Another bloodcurdling shriek cuts through the night. I spot movement approaching the foot of the bridge. A man is dragging the woman along, her arms flailing, legs kicking. She’s putting up a valiant fight, but for how long?
And what the hell can I do except scare him away?
That will have to be enough.
There’s no time for stealth. I arm myself with small chunks of stone tumbled from the wall and slide more than run down the hill. Tall, spiky grass pricks at my skin, but I ignore the tiny bites. Eventually, the ground levels and the grass relents to the dirt road. I kick off these wobbly shoes and sprint, surprising myself with how quickly I’m running.
My adrenaline is soaring by the time my feet touch the bridge. A potent energy thrums in my veins, my fear propelling me forward.
The man has stopped at the middle and is hunched over the woman. She’s no longer fighting. Am I too late? Is she dead?
“Hey!” With stones gripped in my fist, I muster as much force in my voice as I can. “Leave her alone!”
His head snaps up. I can’t make out the finer details of his face from here, but I note his white hair, pulled back in a ponytail. “Are you daft?” he growls. “Why are you not already running toward Ybaris?”
There goes the hope that my presence would scare him off. This degenerate thinks he knows me. But the longer he’s mistaken, the closer I can get, the better chance I have of hitting him when I launch these stones at his head. I approach with a touch more stealth, ready to take aim. “What are you going to do to her?”
He returns to his task, winding a silver rope around her ankles. “I was going to enjoy her later, but bringing her across Islor is risky. Too many will recognize her. May as well get some satisfaction from this catastrophe.”
A faint sound escapes the woman, confirming she’s still alive.
I grip the stones in my right hand tighter. I need to get closer for this to hurt.
“You have failed, Romeria.”
My feet falter. I may not know this lunatic, but apparently, he does know me. Is he one of Sofie’s men? She said they couldn’t come. Maybe that was a lie. “I … I didn’t have enough time,” I stammer.
“You had weeks! Weeks to plan, weeks to deceive that fool. You knew it had to be all of them, or our efforts would be for naught.”
What is he talking about? I only met Sofie last night.
“Your mother will not be pleased when she hears of this.”
“What?” The word slides out on a gasp. My mother is in league with her?
A faint rumble sounds in the distance.
“Here comes the cavalry,” he mutters.
I look behind me. The stone wall I escaped through is a looming barrier that stretches across a high ridge. Beyond it, the orange glow of fire disrupts the night sky. Below it, on the dirt road that I took to get here, a dark shadow moves along the path, the distinct whinny of horses carrying in the night.
Those must be the soldiers.
“Leave now, and seek shelter in Lyndel while you still can,” the man urges, his gloved hands working furiously. “Before the new king gets hold of you. You cannot defeat him on your own.”
The path on the other side of the bridge leads into dense forest. The instinct to listen to him—to run far from this insanity—is overwhelming.
“As for you …” His voice rings with wicked pleasure as he hauls the woman’s limp body up. Springy blond tendrils cascade halfway to the ground. She wears a dress much like mine—flowing layers of silk that belong in another century. “Enjoy your death beneath your beloved brother’s nose.” He hoists her onto the bridge wall to dangle over it.
It’s then I notice the sizable boulder by his feet and the other end of the silver rope that’s wrapped around it. I watch in horror as he heaves it over the wall, shoving her off to follow. Two loud splashes sound a moment later, one after another.
“Run now, or be damned.” The man takes off with remarkable speed, charging for the trees.
It’s a delayed reaction, but I whip the rocks at his head. They miss him by a wide margin.
Behind me, the thunderous pounding of hooves grows louder, the sleek, powerful forms more clearly visible as they charge. If I run now, I might be able to hide in the trees.
But dark memories of a forest and an innocent woman set in flames grips my conscience and stalls my legs. If I take off, this woman in the river will drown, and the guilt that I didn’t try to help her is something I’ll never escape.
I climb onto the bridge wall. I can’t judge the distance, but it doesn’t appear to be too far a fall. I curse Sofie’s name and jump.
Frigid water envelops me, but I’m too fueled with panic to be bothered by its chill. I take a breath and dive, hoping the brilliant moonlight extends into the murky depths, but there is only a bottomless pit of darkness. I swim, groping blindly, until my lungs are ready to burst, and I’m forced to resurface.
“Halt, in the name of the king!” booms a deep, commanding voice above. Two men on horses stand on the bridge. Both wear armor. One holds a blazing torch; the other is aiming an arrow at me.
I swallow against my fear, my heart drumming wildly. “There’s a woman in here. She’s going to drown! Please, help me! I need light!”
The man pointing the arrow lowers his weapon a fraction.
I don’t wait for an answer, diving back under, though I dread my efforts will be futile.
A beam of light blooms within the shadows. It’s coming from the stone in Sofie’s ring, intensifying as it expands, stretching out into the darkness like fast-growing vines in search of daylight.
I follow it with bewilderment, all the way to the river bottom, to where long, blond curls float maybe twenty feet below me. The woman is there, motionless, her arms drifting at either side of her lifeless body.
I don’t know how the ring is doing this, but I don’t waste time, propelling myself deeper. I cut through the water with strong strokes to reach the riverbed and inspect the boulder that anchors her. My dismay swells as I take in the thick, silvery cord, shimmering in the ring’s glow. I’ve never seen rope like this, and the knots are intricate. It will take me hours to unravel, hours she doesn’t have, if she isn’t already beyond saving. Could it be cut, if a soldier would give me a blade?
I reach out to test it. My eyes widen with surprise as it disintegrates beneath my fingertips, like spun sugar pulled apart. I don’t have time to dwell on that miracle. My lungs burn with the need for oxygen. I easily brush away the rest of the binding around her legs and, hooking my arm around her waist, I pull her to the river’s surface.
She begins to cough and sputter the moment we reach air, much to my relief.
“You’re going to be fine,” I promise between ragged breaths. I’m faintly aware of shouting and flaming torches along the bridge and riverbed as I grip her tightly with one arm and use the other to paddle us to shore, thankful the swimming lessons of my youth didn’t get lost in my past. By the time we reach the nearest bank, I’m on the verge of collapse from exhaustion, my chest throbbing.
I flop in the mud next to her.
“Annika!” a low male voice filled with anxiety shouts.
“I’m down here!” she cries out before another coughing fit takes over.
Heavy footfalls and the clank of metal approach. A man dressed in black-and-gold armor drops to his knee beside her. His helm covers most of his face, revealing only his mouth and his eyes through a slit.