Cohen extends a hand to block my path. “Stay here,” he says, and then slips through the door.
I listen for only a moment, and after hearing nothing more from Siron, I follow. Right as I walk in, my gaze lands on Tomas. The sight shocks me still. Until I notice Cohen, unconscious and head bloodied, slumped to the dirt in front of the bludger guard.
“Cohen!” I start for my dagger. Hands seize me from behind. My bow digs between my shoulder blades and my quiver crashes to the ground, spilling arrows across the hay and dirt floor. Frantic, I slam my heel back, nailing my attacker in the shin. I jerk my arms free, but he’s quick to grasp them again, managing to seize my left wrist.
With only my right arm free, I throw an elbow back, hitting hard.
He groans. “Britta. Stop.”
Leif.
“Stop,” he says again, his cheek near mine.
I listen because struggling would do nothing more than deplete me of energy, something I’ll need later to figure a way out of this.
The stable door creaks and Captain Omar enters; his eyes immediately seek mine and narrow to slits. He is wearing a brown and gold uniform, which is definitely not one from Malam. “Ready to return to the dungeon?” My muscles contract under his gaze. The daggered look in his eyes is the same expression he wore the night he whipped me.
We’re so close to Celize. It’s sickening knowing we’re going to be taken back. I open my mouth to plead my case, and the captain backhands me. I hear the smack of his hand against my jaw and feel the jolt from the sting, before bitter blood fills my mouth. I cough and shake my head.
“I have enough cause to string you up.” Menacing threat darkens his low tone. “The only thing keeping you alive is that Lord Jamis hasn’t sent a death order. Give me a reason, and I’ll disregard his oversight.”
Truth—?warmth and nausea mix in my gut. His silver eyes drill into mine, promising pain if provoked any further.
When we’re outside the stable, Omar and Tomas drop Cohen to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Tomas kicks Cohen’s ribs. I whimper, wanting desperately to stop them, to help Cohen. The sight of the dark blood around Cohen’s hairline makes my eyes watery. I blink hard and search for a sign that Cohen is breathing. Please be breathing.
Finally, his chest rises and falls.
My relief is cut short, however, when Kendrick walks out of the inn and Omar nods to him. “My word is good. Your son will be spared.” His accent holds the perfect Shaerdanian lilt. Omar is a lying, sneaky bludger. Kendrick must’ve turned us in because he thought Captain Omar and his men were from the Shaerdanian army. He thinks they’ll save his boy from service. How wrong he is. Before I can say anything, Leif’s hand clamps over my mouth.
“Shh,” he whispers so only I can hear. “Don’t make it worse right now.”
When he releases my mouth, I nod, accepting he’s right, that talking now will only get us killed faster.
“I couldn’t let them take my son,” Kendrick says to me. He is grief and guilt and relief all mixed in one. “Ten is too young to go to war. Tell Cohen I’m sorry. I had to do this.” He casts one more glance at Cohen. “I couldn’t lose my son.”
The rage that filled me moments ago disappears. I cannot hate a man for wanting so badly to save his son that he was willing to trade us.
Leif escorts me toward a carriage that is marked with a brown and blue crest with a gold bird painted above it. The captain must’ve stolen this wagon from the Shaerdanian army when he swiped the uniforms. Clearly, I underestimated the lengths to which Captain Omar was willing to go in order to find us.
After putting Cohen in the carriage, Captain Omar manacles my wrists and shoves me in as well. One look at Cohen’s unconscious body and remorse cuts through me. I should’ve never made that deal with Lord Jamis. If I hadn’t tracked Cohen, he’d be free and clear now, and probably would know who the real killer is.
When the time comes, I’m going to right this wrong.
I’m going to do what it takes to free him.
Chapter
17
ONCE WE’RE MOVING, THE CARRIAGE lurching along the rutted roads of Padrin, Captain Omar finally speaks. “I wasn’t pleased you slipped through my guards’ fingers. That’s a mistake they won’t make again.” As always, there is an undercurrent of bitterness in his tone. He must be furious that I managed to best his men. “You weren’t easy to find. It was luck more than anything. Leif remembered Cohen had a friend in this village.”
His confession makes me think he wants me to know that Leif and Tomas paid for what happened the other day and I will too. I grit my teeth and focus on the wall of the carriage.