The road of shops, bustling with activity only hours ago, is now void of life. Where is everyone? Panic swells. This is bad.
Pop, pop, pop.
I’m running, tripping, hauling my way through streets, only stopping to breathe when I can’t stand not to.
And then I see them. A crowd gathered in a clearing just ahead. Someone’s shouting. Another is wailing. What in the—?
A hand fastens over my mouth, dragging me back, down to the ground. I kick and claw. But then my captor comes around and faces me. Breathe. It’s only Ky.
He lifts his hand. Puts a finger to his lips.
I nod, afraid to as much as blink.
Ky clutches my hand like a lifeline, and together we slink under the cover of the trees, keeping a wide berth between us and the mob. He leads me to an outcropping of boulders.
I peer through a crevice at the horror scene ten feet away. Soulless dot the area, weapons in their possession ranging from swords and machetes to shotguns and crossbows. One guard restrains Wade, presses a jagged knife to his throat with a black-veined hand. Wade’s arms are pulled tight around his back, his contorted face an agonized version of his former persona.
Beyond him Haman stands with his back toward us, a handgun aimed at the ground. No, not at the ground. At an owl.
Lark.
“I will execute one rebel every hour until you relinquish the girl. Do not think His Sovereignty will be fooled. Once we have her, you will be free to live in peace.”
The crowd falls silent. My heart aches. These people don’t even know me, yet they would die before they’d turn me in to Haman?
But it’s not really me they’re protecting, it’s their king. How could I forget?
I train my eyes on Lark. She’s just lying there, unmoving. Is she already dead? I squint, zeroing in on her middle. Up, down. Up, down. She’s breathing. Not dead. Yet.
Haman’s particular Shield Calling didn’t work on Wren when she rescued us from the bridge. What did Ky say? Shields can only affect someone in human form? Must be the reason for so many guns—to compensate for the limits on the Callings. Did Jasyn send his assistant into the Third for the modern weaponry? I remember Haman having a gun, but this—
Ka-chick. He cocks the gun.
No. This is happening too fast. We need more time.
“One!”
I lunge forward, but Ky wrestles me back, wraps his arms around me, locking me in place.
“Two!”
“Use your Calling,” I beg Ky. “Paralyze him! Make him stop!”
“I can’t. Shields can’t affect other Shields, remember?”
“Your knife then.”
“No. I won’t jeopardize our position.”
I cover my mouth to stifle sobs.
Before Haman reaches three, a section of the crowd parts. Robyn in tiger form bolts into the clearing, charges Haman.
He re-angles his gun just as she pounces. “Three.”
An earsplitting growl. Thud.
Robyn’s blood stains the ground.
TWENTY-FIVE
I Didn’t See It
Tears. Snot. Spittle. Bodily fluids seep from my eyes, my nose, my mouth. I suck them back. Only blood is missing. The blood I should’ve shed. The blood Robyn didn’t deserve to.
That murderous, good-for-nothing—I’ll kill him. I don’t know how or when, but somehow I’ll find a way.
“Revenge looks sweet on the outside, but its center is full of worms.”
Enough with the adages, Mom. Silly little sayings won’t bring Robyn back. I have to do something. No one else can be harmed because of me.
Cursed birthmark. Haven’t you caused enough trouble? Mom. Joshua. Ky’s sister. Did you have to take Robyn too?
I squirm and Ky squeezes tighter. He puts his mouth to my ear. “We have to go, Ember. She’s gone. You can’t save her.”
How can he be rational? A girl just died for Verity’s sake!
The Soulless holding Wade releases him. The Physic stumbles to Robyn’s side. She’s transformed back into her human self, no longer alive to retain her feline state. Wade removes his jacket. Drapes it over her naked, lifeless body.
My stomach clenches into a fist. I can’t watch this. I twist, pressing my face into Ky’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Em.” He whispers the shortened version of his nickname for me with more tenderness than I’ve ever heard him use. “But we have to go.”
I pull back. Golden flecks I never noticed before dance in his green eye. I shake my head, hysterics rising. “We have . . . sob . . . to get . . . sob . . . Joshua.” I inhale, exhale, bite my lower lip. “His blood . . . sniff . . . can save . . . sniff . . . her.” And what about the others? Lark, Kuna, Preacher, Stormy?
Ky’s mouth turns down as he rubs little circles on my back. “If David revealed his Calling, Haman would know what he is, and we couldn’t place a worse weapon in Crowe’s hands right now.”
My knees buckle. Ky holds me up, the rock I so desperately need. “We have to at least warn him.”
“David can take care of himself.” Ky looks past me, eyes scanning, the Guardian in him shifting to full throttle. “He would want me to get you to safety.”
Safety? Wasn’t the Haven supposed to be safe? “But Haman could hurt him.”
“If he gets the chance, but David’s not stupid. He’ll figure something out.”
A scream severs the blip in this tragedy’s reel.
I whip my head around. Through the boulders I see the human Wren wailing. She’s on her knees, hovering protectively over her sister’s form.
Lark transforms into her human self, takes Robyn’s limp hand.
Wren scowls, pushes Lark away. “No, Mother. You do not get to mourn her.”
Mother? Oh my—that’s why Lark’s name sounded familiar. Wade mentioned her. Robyn said she’d left.
Wade lifts his tunic over his head and lays it across Lark’s shoulders. He helps her to her feet, holds her as if she never left.
Wren rises, a pillar of hatred and fury. “Where is she?” Wren screams. “Who’s hiding her?”
My heart shrinks to my spine.
Haman chuckles.
The people lower their heads, not one meeting Wren’s fiery glare.
She spins, her braid lashing her face like a whip. “How long before another innocent dies?” Her shoulders heave with each seethed word.
Two Soulless, weapons drawn, converge and shield Haman. Morons. As if he needs their protection.
Haman parts the guards as if opening a sliding glass door. He strokes his chin, steeples his long, bony fingers. “I do love a good revenge scene.” His upper lip curls, revealing his silver tooth. “I’ll strike a bargain with you, girl. You have one day to seek the girl and return her to me. During those twenty-four hours, I swear I shall not so much as snap my fingers near a rebel.”
Captain Hook’s voice echoes Haman’s words in my mind. “I have given me word not to lay a finger, or a hook, on Peter Pan.” Yeah. Right.
“Fine.” Wren offers her hand. “I bind you to your vow.”
Haman leans down and kisses the heel of her palm, just as he did with Isabeau. “By a kiss I am bound.”
A Kiss of Accord. Has to be. But what could Haman possibly stand to gain from such a bargain? At least I know the rebels are safe for another day. If Haman breaks his promise, he’ll die.