How long had she been marching? Elba couldn't remember anymore. Out there in the inky darkness, it was damn near impossible to tell the passage of time. For so long she'd relied on the sun and moon to guide her. Now it felt as if one of her senses had been ripped out, deadening her, lessening her.

All she remembered anymore was the numb sensation of her feet shuffling through the snow, the constant rattle of her chains, the occasional grumble or curse from one of the Forsworn as they marched past, making sure the other rabble stayed in line.

They'd locked her up like cattle, the bastards, fastening a square wooden yoke around her neck, loops bolted to the bottom so they could chain her arms to it. She couldn't scratch her nose or her arse even if she tried. Another loop bolted to the top made it so they could chain her to the other prisoners, leading the entire pack in a single file line if needed. Unlucky for her, the person in front of her had a quicker step, forcing her to either bend over or pick up the pace.

For the first few hours terror had been her sole companion. Elba replayed the past over and over in her head, wondering where she'd gone wrong, what she could have done better. The shock on Libro's face when she'd been torn away. Forsworn after Forsworn falling to her sword before they'd overwhelmed her. The sickening realization that she was going to die alone.

But they didn't kill her. Instead they'd taken her captive and were marching her off somewhere else instead. A certain sickening curiosity took hold after that. Where were they taking her and why? What made her more important alive than dead?

Time passed without answers, and so she'd stolen glances at some of the passing Chosen and Forsworn, comparing their gaunt differences to pass the time.

While deathly pale and malnourished, the Forsworn appeared as normal looking people. The Chosen, however, looked one foot in the grave already, and yet they radiated a certain malice she'd felt only once before.

Raylein Stelegrim. The magick aura he possessed had felt like a crushing stone against her chest. The Chosen, while to a lesser degree, had something similar, but the feeling they gave off made the hair's on her body stand on end. As if invisible eyes were always watching her. She would need to be careful around them. After her first encounter with one at the border tower, she'd quickly learned her lesson.

Finally, as more time passed and her fear and curiosity melted away, Elba began to think about the future. She wasn't going to let these bastards lead her around like fething cattle for long. She'd been under enough yokes in her life to know none would ever fit, but she wasn't about to throw her life away in a mad dash for freedom.

Deep down, Elba knew Libro would come for her. Say one thing for the Captain, say he's a stubborn little mess. When that man got into a mood, it was tough to pull him back out. Cent and Moss too. No doubt they'd already fished themselves out of the river and were making plans to head back.

And that meant staying alive for as long as possible.

Elba craned her neck up as best she could to stare at the other prisoners. There were a random assortment of young and old, tall and short, but she soon realized one common element between them. They were all women.

A cold shudder went down her back as she flicked her gaze over at one of the guards, a new, more terrible thought forming in the back of her mind. She would survive for as long as possible, but she was going to cut a man's fruits off before he even thought of touching her.

She pushed the thought down and tried to focus. If the prisoners were all women, then Tergrid may have been one of them. A possible ally perhaps, if she could find her of course. She couldn't see her past the endless rows of people, but the idea alone struck a spark of hope in her heart.

"All right," one of the Chosen called out, his voice like the rustling of old paper. "Stop here for a bit. The living need their rest after all. " A few hollow chuckles echoed out from the others. Some of the Forsworn even joined in.

Elba and the prisoners were led to a small stream to drink first. She bent down, able to swallow a mouthful before she was tugged along, nearly choking on the bitter cold water. From there they were guided to a patch of ground to rest. The ground was cold and craggy, but thankfully free of snow.

A flood of unfamiliar faces surrounded Elba as she tried to gather her thoughts. She remembered Tergrid having sharp, angular features, like a brooding swan, or a moody hawk. Her search came up fruitless, however, as no one appeared to match those features.

Elba bit her lip, wondering if Tergrid had been killed after all. Now that she realized it, she didn't seem like the type to give up willingly. Had she died after all in Middlefort? Were Libro and the others dead as well? The little spark of hope in her heart began to flicker. What if she was the only one left? Alone, with only her husband's unborn child to keep her company?

And who knew how long that would even last? Could a child even survive in a place like this? Would she even live long enough to have it? Would they take it away from her once it was born? Question after question rammed into her guts like a hot knife, her breath coming out in quick, painful snorts.

A memory flashed past her vision then. She remembered Libro having these same panicked fits before. Little moments when he'd stare off into space, still and calm as a statue, and yet his chest heaved as if he was running for his life. She'd always been the one to calm him down, but now that she was alone there was no one there to comfort her.

"Fething shit," she murmured, crushing the feeling down with all her strength. Felt impossible at first, like she was pushing against a mountain, but little by little she found her strength. She screwed her eyes shut, gritted her teeth, made it so the tears never came.

She had been under the yoke of others for far too long, and crying about it would change nothing. She could worry about it, or she could do something about it.

Elba opened her eyes. Sitting before her, nestled against the stump of a long dead tree, was Tergrid. She sat with her knees hunched up to her chest face buried against her knees but there was no mistaking her mop of brazen red hair. Her hands hung uselessly at her sides, the heavy wooden collar digging into her stomach.

An omen maybe. Gretta had spoken of these little moments before. When the world shifts a fraction in your favor. A moment Elba knew she had to take. With slow, careful steps, she crept towards Tergrid, making sure not to pull the chains of her neighbors too tight. If anyone made a fuss it could potentially ruin her chance.

Snow crunched underfoot as Elba half tiptoed, half squatted till she finally reached the rotten stump, plopping down beside the girl as her legs finally gave out.

"Hanging in there?" Elba asked.

Tergrid didn't answer, didn't even look up. Instead she shrank even further into herself, or at least as far as her collar allowed.

"I thought as much." Elba considered placing a hand on Tergrid, then thought otherwise. Something told her comfort wasn't what the girl needed right now. "Don't suppose you remember me at all. I was with that dashing young Captain and his two knuckleheads, and our favorite Magician," she added, hoping the mention of Brand might finally rouse her.

A red rimmed eye peaked out from the snarled mass of red curls. "I remember. Looks like the Right Hand caught you too."

"Looks like. Where are they taking us?"

Tergrid sniffed and looked back down, a shiver running through her body. "To Kel Dracon. To the King's Graveyard."

Elba suppressed a shiver of her own. "I'm guessing they're not going to give us a royal burial there, are they?"

"It's a prison. The Right Hand takes all his prisoners there, and no one ever returns. My Dah used to say it's where the Restless are born." Tergrid puffed her cheeks and blew out a sigh. "I'm trying not to think about it right now."

"All right, all right," Elba said. "Let's focus on something else then." She looked around, made sure no one was listening as she leaned in close. "Like how we're getting out of here."

"It's too late for that now. I tried to jump on my knife back at the tower, but they took it from me. I'm going to die in that miserable place now. Just like my mother. Just like my sisters. And then that evil witch will turn my corpse into a puppet and parade me around like some mockery."

Tears slowly pattered down from Tergrid's cheeks as her lower lip started to quiver. "It's not fair. Why? Why did this have to happen at all?"

"Tergrid," Elba snapped, seizing the girl by the sleeve of her coat. "Look at me."

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, that scared red rimmed eye turned back to her.

"You're going to survive this. We are going to survive this. And do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because Captain Libro, my husband, is coming to save us. Him, and those two knuckleheads, and our favorite magician too. They're all coming."

Tergrid perked up at that. "Brand's alive?"

Elba bit her lip. "That's right," she lied. "We found him back in his dressing room, going on and on about how he'd forgotten his staff, of all things. We tried to escape by jumping through a window into the river, but I was unfortunately captured. He and the others made it out safely, though."

"Thank our lucky star then." Tergrid breathed a sigh of relief. "But how will they find us? The river could have swept them out for miles, and our tracks will be lost in the snow after a couple of days."

"My man's a bull headed bastard when he needs to be. No doubt he'll throttle the first Chosen he finds and demand where they've taken me. Just you wait and see."

A weak smile trickled up one side of Tergrid's lips. "He sounds amazing."

Elba snorted. "He does his best, and that's all I can ever ask of him." She turned back to look at Tergrid. "Of anyone really, and that's what I'm asking of you. I need you to do your best, to survive with me as long as possible until help finally arrives. Okay?"

Tergrid stared at her for a long time, face crushing up with half hearted determination. "Okay. I'll try."

"There's my girl." Elba let go of Tergrid's sleeve, letting it settle beside her hand instead. Despite the awkwardness of their chains, they were able to interlock fingers, and seal the pact together.

No one was going to die on Elba's watch. Not Tergrid, not her, and certainly not her child. They could call the King's Graveyard the Fething Death Pits for all she cared a shit. Libro was going to find her, and she would tear the very gates off Kel Dracon once he got there.

"All right! Enough time's been wasted! Get back up!" One of the Chosen yelled. Elba gasped as she was nearly yanked off her feet as the other prisoners rose back up. Her grip was torn free of Tergrid as they were separated once more, meeting each other's eyes for one final moment before they were lost again in a sea of people.

***