“The Garden is too good for the likes of you,” the driver snarled. “Bradwr.”
He spat on the ground and glared at me.
Traitor.
It was going to take some time to get used to the insults. I had to be strong. For Maeral.
The driver turned away from the window and shouted up to the gatehouse. “Prisoner delivery from the Golden Citadel!”
“What kind? We wirnae expectin’ any deliveries. Especially not from the likes of you.”
“An unexpected arrangement,” the driver explained. “A message should have arrived for the warden by now.”
“No one told us,” the guard shouted back.
“Y’haftae take her,” the driver said. He stomped around to the back of the wagon and fumbled with the enchanted chain that held the doors closed.
As they loosened, so did the ones that bound me. I took the opportunity to wriggle my arms and managed to work one hand free. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. Maybe I could take a chance and escape… If I could find my way into the Unseelie lands maybe I could escape—
The driver flung the doors open and reached into the wagon to snap his fingers at the ends of the chain that were secured to the iron rings in the floor.
The chains didn’t move and I dared to smile just a little.
The driver snapped his fingers again and swore under his breath.
It took him three more tries, but finally, the iron links slithered to life and unhooked themselves from the rings embedded in the rough wood floor. When I was awaiting my sentence, each link of the chain that wrapped around my body had burned painfully against my skin, but now they were just cold metal.
Perhaps we were far enough away from the Golden Citadel that their magic was weakened—or the Black Garden’s own protections were strong enough to drown out any other magic.
That would explain the need for the wagon… No magic in the Garden.
With a grunt of frustration the driver reached into the wagon and grabbed the limp end of the chain with both hands. He yanked on it hard and I stumbled to my feet. My knees gave out as my ankles cramped and I fell against the side of the wagon. The driver pulled on the chain again, and I gritted my teeth against the pain as the feeling began to return to my legs.
He looked over his shoulder to shout at the guards who were, no doubt, waiting in their gatehouse.
“Hurry up!” one of the unseen men shouted. “We havnae got all morning. We have some actual prisoners coming in from the Grafmark Ranges… Real criminals…”
The driver grumbled and wrapped and chain around his forearm. He leaned back to look at the guards.
“This one is a real criminal—”
I might have been at a disadvantage—but he was off balance and I had to take my chance while I had it.
I rushed forward, stumbling as my ankles screamed in pain. The driver turned toward me just as I leapt out of the wagon and planted both feet in the center of his broad chest.
The weight of the chains and the force of my leap knocked the man off his feet, and he landed on the muddy ground with a surprised grunt.
“What’s taking so long?” one of the guards shouted.
“Help!” the driver cried as I struggled to shake off the chains and scramble to my feet. “Help, she’s escaping!”
The last length of chain fell to the ground with a muffled thud as I pushed it off my shoulder and ran headlong for the forest.
The driver reached out to catch my ankle, but he missed and was rewarded with the edge of my boot crushing his fingers as I ran past him.
His strangled cries for assistance had finally caught the interest of the guards in the gatehouse and I heard more shouts as they emerged to see what the commotion was.
I was almost there. The dark trunks of the pine trees looked cool and inviting, and I was more than prepared to deal with whatever was in there if it meant I could avoid being taken through those ivy-covered gates.
I could smell the treeline, if I could just get close enough—
I reached out for the trees, but just as hope flared in my chest I cried out in surprise as a sharp pain lanced through my leg.
“Not that easy, bradwr,” a man cried out. Braying laughter followed as I fell to the ground so hard and gasped as all the air rushed out of my lungs.
The world tilted and I had dirt in my mouth and in my hair. My left leg shivered and burned and I couldn’t stop shaking. I managed to twist enough to grab for my ankle, and yelped in pain as my fingers were burnt by the glowing golden rope that was wrapped around it.
The laughter of the guards echoed off the trees as they approached.
“She doesnae look like much,” one of them said.
I looked over my shoulder at the approaching men and pushed myself up onto my feet. My legs were unsteady, and I couldn’t put any weight on the left one.
“Don’t you touch me,” I growled.
“Hobbled. I told you these work like a charm,” one of the men said with a cocksure grin on his face. He patted the loops of golden rope fastened to his belt. The same rope that was wrapped tightly around my left ankle. “They said we couldn’t have ‘em, but I got these through a… different source.”
The second guard shoved the speaker. “You’d best be keepin’ your mouth shut about that shit.” He pointed to me. “Are you sure this is the one?”
The driver who had brought me to this accursed place came up behind them. He rubbed his chest painfully and fixed me with a deadly glare. “Certain of it,” he said through gritted teeth. “If she’s broken any of my ribs, I’ll be filin’ a complaint—”
“Shut your mouth,”
