I curl into a corner behind an armoire, holding my breath. Crippling desperation grows with every clack of the guard's boots on the cobblestone.

What if they find me?

A prospect too dire to imagine.

He passes by my hiding place in such close proximity that the air drift from his sheath leaves a cold tingle on my skin. As his steps fade, I scurry along the corridor. Glancing to my right and left, I pass the open double-doors to a salon. Murmured voices, carefree laughter, and the clinking of cups on saucers fill the air. These Anous live a comfortable life. From what I've seen, they have food in abundance, luxurious living spaces, and few worries. Quite different from the way I was raised. Arriving at a staircase, I begin a rapid descent. Every second counts. The hem of the long underskirt hits against my ankles and my toes curl from the coldness below my bare feet. I rush so much that I almost trip.

Did Jaslynn notice that I'm gone?

She only left me alone for a quick detour to the kitchen to fetch us a jug of sweet tea.

Will she sound the alarm?

A question that sends icy chills down my spine. With as good as zero planning, so many things could go wrong. I could be dead in the next five minutes.

By a miracle, the staircase ends in the same courtyard where our carriage arrived earlier. I take cover behind a wooden trough right across from the main gate. For a few minutes, I watch the armed guards patrol their paths, trying to find just the tiniest spider hole to get out. There's nothing. No diverting of those sharp eyes from the entrance, no slowing of steps for even a beat to take a short break, no yawn behind a raised hand that could prove distracting. Those soldiers are like machines who don't swerve once from their course.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

What am I gonna do?

I don't know the grounds enough to find another escape route and time is running out.

Squeaking of wheels has me turning my head. A low cart is swaying toward the gate. It's a freight wagon pulled by only one horse, the bed covered with a tarp. The guards jump out of its way, a few moving the collars of their tunics over their noses. Swinging arms signal the driver to hurry up. In the approaching darkness, the soldiers might not notice if I jump quickly enough into the back.

Inhaling deeply for some courage, I leap for the wagon. As I peel the tarp back, the stench is overpowering. I gag.

By Genessa, it's a manure cart.

I only hesitate for a beat before flinging myself into the dung. Pulling the tarp over my head to seal off the opening I created, I bury my nose into the sleeve of my shirt. My stomach cramps, but any disgust is drowned out by the seething fear.

"Hoo." The driver brings the cart to a stop.

"Keep going," comes a shout.

The driver chuckles. "Why, no inspection today?"

"Just move before I thump you right in that frigging mouth." The gruff snarl is only inches from my head, sending my mind into a spin.

Any second now, they will discover me.

I bite the side of my hand to stop myself from shrieking out loud. My heart hammers hard against my ribcage and it's mindboggling that the guard can't hear it. The wagon moves forward again, swaying and squealing on its rusty hinges. The stench of the manure bites the inside of my nose; I'm dizzy and barely able to keep in the bile. I close my eyes and focus on the pounding in my head.

By Genessa and the other gods, please help me through this.

The ground turns from cobblestone into bumpy mud. I'm tossed around, my clothes soon drenched and stinky like a horse's arse. I'm soaked down to my skin in dung. Only my burning will to live outside the walls of the Stye keep me grounded enough to stay on the wagon. I loosen the tarp a bit and glimpse outside. We are still in the fields surrounding the stronghold, but the forest line is slowly approaching. I only have to hold on for a few more minutes.

As an army of trees darkens my vision, I pull back the tarp and roll off the cart. My right shoulder takes the brunt of the fall; twinges of pain snake up my neck and down my arm. Like a seafarer about to drown, I soak up the crisp evening air. Disgust still surrounds me and I gag, my stomach heaving to dispel the little bit of birthday cake I had devoured before I left home. Wiping my mouth makes me queasy again.

I look around for a water source to clean myself. The underbrush is thick and the treetops form a solid roof that wouldn't allow any large amounts of rain to trickle through to accumulate on the ground. I prick my ears for any sounds; a sudden ayeh of a screeching bird startles me enough that I'm close to jumping out of my skin. I grit my teeth and get to my feet; my whole body is sore and I limp aimlessly in a circle to find a hole in the underbrush. When I can't find anything but entwined branches, I tackle the problem headfirst and fight my way through the bushes. Scratched and pricked by thorns, I come out on the other side. The skirt and shirt are torn to rags and barely hide my undergarments. Disposing of them might be more comfortable, especially since the fabric still reeks of dung, and will make me faster.

I gaze around. The trees have cleared a little and I catch sight of a circling bird-of-prey in the sky. Another ayeh thunders through the still evening air. The creature is majestic with its wingspan darkening the glowing orange ball of the setting sun. For a breath, I'm mesmerized by the elegance of its flight, the freedom of just taking off into the clouds and leaving everything else behind. Envy swells in my heart; as the tears rise, I refocus on the forest. My path is ahead of me, not above, and I have miles to go before I'm even remotely safe.

Stumbling through the gaps between the trees, I ensure that the warmth of the sun stays on my shoulder to avoid walking in circles. The bite of the night is advancing fast and I shiver in my thin clothes. I'll have to find shelter soon or risk frostbite. The Spring equinox is still a month away and in this part of the country, the temperatures leave a frozen shroud on the ground during the dark hours.

The ayeh of the bird sends a shudder down my spine; it's as if the creature is stalking me. Maybe it can sense that I'm weak and probably not make it very far, waiting to swoop in for the kill when I least expect it. Large birds-of-prey are scavengers by nature who relish feasting on corpses.

My next wrestle with the dense underbrush leaves me exhausted but hopeful. I find myself in a small clearing with some suitable rock shelter. The grass is soft beneath my feet and a small stream purls over rocks, ending in a small pool. The water is crystal clear; when I taste a mouthful with my hollow hand, it's fresh on my lips and cools my burning throat. I get on my knees and scoop water onto my arms and legs to clean off the rest of the manure, careful not to contaminate the water in the pool. Scrubbing my face clean is like a salvation. The wind picks up and I shiver; I'd love to start a fire, but that would be too dangerous. The Anou will soon send out their soldiers to find me and hiding under a solid blanket of leaves will be my best chance of survival.

A loud ayeh drives me to my feet; a shadow momentarily cuts off the last daylight. The bird passes so closely by my shoulder that a few feathers stroke my skin. They are soft at first but leave a burning sting behind. When I run my hands over the sore spot, the warmth of blood sticks to my fingertips.

The bird settles on a boulder and the breath catches in my throat. It's a Sotaro, a native of the Isaaen Mountains. The creature shouldn't be this far north. Crown-like, yellow stripes streak its solid black head and the turquoise, red, and violet feathers that mark the tips of its wings are razor sharp. Gray eyes with a hint of silver suck me in; my muscles turn to lead and I'm unable to twitch.

With one flap of its wings, the bird combusts in a cloud of mist. When the smoke settles, a man is left in its place. He is short for a warrior with a slender frame and fine facial features, and the wind nips at the tips of his corn blond hair. Giving me a once over, the gleam in his gray-silver eyes shackles me in place. I swallow hard, my mind racing. Since he shifted from an animal form, he must be a Tisi, but invading another Dynasty's land without an army is suicide. Though as a bird, he could easily fly away, which only leaves a scout.

He smiles and lets out a low whistle. A white horse appears between the trees and joins him by the boulder. It snorts, nudging his shoulder. The man strokes its nose, his glare paralyzing. I can't move a single muscle.

"Look what I found." His chuckle drips with honey. "A female in her nightgown. Isn't she adorable?"

The horse neighs; its teeth are exposed as if it were laughing.

"And from her non-magical aura, she appears to be an Elowen. All alone, without a master. Such a dangerous endeavor."

Abandoning the horse, he steps closer. I finally manage to break his spell and lower my gaze. Fists pumping, I'm determined to put up a good fight.

He halts in front of me and yanks up my chin. His intense stare recaptures me and I'm unable to breathe.

"She looks like decent livestock, so let's take her with us. I bet she'll fetch us a pretty penny at one of the gruft bars back home."

I gasp just as his glare ruptures my consciousness, and the world turns black.

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