Daughter of Dusk

“Your fate will be tied to ours,” Kyra said. When Adele finished binding Willem’s arms, she stepped toward Kyra and Alvred, rope in hand.

“Kyra, take care!” said Pashla as someone threw open the tent flap. Kyra tightened her grip on Alvred as she turned. Three Edlan soldiers stood at the entrance with swords drawn. Several more stood behind them.

“Drop your weapons or your commanders die,” she said, her voice sharp in her ears.

“Do as she says,” said Alvred in his low, booming shout, and the others obeyed.

Well, it was too late for rope now. “Clear a path,” said Kyra. Slowly, the soldiers parted. Kyra turned Alvred around so he faced away from her and nudged him to start moving. She stepped out first, followed by Pashla and Willem, with Adele bringing up the rear. It was awkward progress. He was much larger than she was, and Kyra had to reach up to get her dagger to his throat. Her arm quickly began to get sore, and sweat from his skin soaked into her clothes.

Kyra scanned the soldiers around her as they walked. This couldn’t last forever. There were too many soldiers, and too few hostages. Her spine prickled—she expected an arrow in her back any moment. When Alvred lagged, she pressed the blade closer to his throat, nudging him forward. Slowly, ever so slowly, they made their way to the edge of the camp. Her arms burned. She could see the forest now when she peered around Alvred’s bulk. Almost there. They just needed the shelter of the trees.

Something whistled through the air, followed by a woman’s cry. Kyra turned just in time to see Adele fall to her knees, an arrow shaft sticking out her back.

“Adele!” she shouted. At that moment, Alvred broke free and struck her hard in the stomach. Kyra fell to the ground, retching. Alvred grabbed for her dagger, but she snatched it away just in time.

“Lord Alvred!”

A soldier handed Alvred a mace, an evil-looking club with a steel-coated head. Kyra dove to the side as he raised it high and brought it down. He missed the first time and the second, but his third blow came down squarely on her right hip.

Kyra screamed, and for a moment she couldn’t see anything for the pain. When her vision cleared, Alvred was closing in for another blow. She tried to scoot away, and realized with horror that she couldn’t move her leg at all.

A roar split the air and a demon cat charged into the fray, coming to a stop protectively above Adele. Two more came after and stood tail-to-tail with the first, fangs bared and snarling dangerously. For a moment, everyone stared. Then the demon cats disappeared behind a wave of soldiers. Alvred raised his mace once more, and Kyra hopelessly threw her arms in front of her face.

“Stand back!” Suddenly, Pashla was next to her, still with Willem firmly in her grasp. How had she managed to hold on to her hostage in all that chaos? Alvred hesitated, and in that moment someone’s arms threaded under Kyra’s and pulled her to her feet. She cried out again as the movement jarred her leg. Then she realized it was Flick holding her.

“Easy, Kyra.” His voice was a safe harbor she could cling to. “Let’s get you to safety.”

“To the trees,” said Pashla, dragging Willem in that direction. Flick threw Kyra over his shoulder and hurried after the clanswoman. Kyra buried her face in his chest to keep from screaming. Every step he took was agony. Two swordsmen gave chase, but a demon cat jumped in front of them, cutting off pursuit.

The sounds of battle followed them into the forest. “Our people won’t last long,” Kyra said. And Adele. Was she alive?

Pashla forced Willem to his knees in front of her. “We must get him to Forge.”

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