“You want to take her?”
“Larke will never let her go if he gets his hands on her.”
The old captain didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he had to agree. Jasper Larke was a ruthless man, and he’d proved willing to hurt women to serve his own ends. The captain had seen it before and—to his shame—he hadn’t spoken up. He had protected a powerful man’s interests instead of defending the woman he had hurt. No more.
“Give her the babe, lass.” The captain put a hand on his sword, which he’d rarely drawn except in training. “I’ll look after you until she returns.”
Mae gave a ragged sob and handed the still-sleeping baby to the other young woman. It was a marvel that the child could nap through all the commotion.
“You get her to safety,” Mae said fiercely. “Don’t come back.”
The wild-haired young woman gave her a searching look, then she nodded. Clutching the baby tight to her chest, she took a deep breath and stepped across the threshold. For a moment, the captain feared they had been wrong.
The girl paused, swaying on her feet. Then she peeled back the blankets and bent her head over the baby. She looked back at Mae and the captain. “She’s all right! It worked.” Then her eyes widened, her lips parting.
And the captain noticed a red-tipped sword had suddenly appeared, sticking clear through his back and out the front of his chest.
Chapter 30
Briar gasped as the old captain was stabbed from behind. Mae screamed, leaping back as her would-be protector fell to the ground. She teetered at the threshold, nearly falling across it. Then she pitched the other way and crawled away from the fallen captain and his murderer.
The newcomer was broad-shouldered and young, with a mop of thick brown hair and a barrel chest. Briar didn’t wait to learn more. She wrapped her arms tighter around the baby and ran.
It was pitch-dark outside, and rocks and boulders rose out of nowhere to trip her. Clouds had gathered overhead, blocking out the starlight. Despite her unsteady footing, Briar ran like she had never run before, pure terror driving her onward. She had faced her parents. She had risked crossing the most complex barrier curse she’d ever seen. Worst of all, she now had a very fragile, very fresh baby in her arms.
So she ran, with nowhere to go, no one to help her. She could be the only member of her team left. Archer wouldn’t come to her aid with his knack for knowing which way to go, his certain kind of vision. He was under the mountain, knocked down by her curse. If he still lived, he wouldn’t escape that fortress unless Briar’s parents willed it.
Briar winced at the thought of that burst of power she’d hurled across the corridor. Her father had been far enough away to avoid the blast, but her mother and Archer…
Did she really have to paint such a powerful incendiary? She could have painted a border that would put her pursuers to sleep if they crossed it. She could have created a flashbang to divert their attention while Mae escaped. Why had she turned so quickly to one of the deadliest curses she knew? What was it inside her that allowed her to unfurl such destruction when a simple stop curse would do the trick?
You know the answer.
She gritted her teeth, trying to push down the little voice whispering to her like the deadly hum of a voice mage.
You wanted to show them, didn’t you? You wanted to prove you are more powerful than even they dreamed you could be. You’ve been practicing that curse, that blast of destruction, for far too long, imagining their reactions when they saw it. Well, congratulations. You sure showed them.
Briar wanted to scream at the voice, to deny the assertion that some part of her wanted to shove her power back in her parents’ faces. She refused to admit she had become exactly what they’d always wanted her to be.
She ran on through the night, getting farther from Narrowmar, farther from what she had done. She wanted to go back, to see if she really had rained down death in that corridor, but Archer and Mae would never forgive her for putting the baby in jeopardy to save them. Running away was the right choice, but that didn’t stop the tears that flooded her eyes, blurring her surroundings.
Briar stumbled, catching herself before she fell on top of the baby. The satchel of paints swung heavily at her side. She needed to stop, or neither of them would survive the night.
She slowed, blinking her eyes clear. The ravine looked different, as if a great fist had punched into the middle of it, making the ground ripple like struck flesh. The trees on the ridge were ripped up and scattered, their broken branches rising like skeleton fingers. That must be where Esteban had ambushed Lord Larke. There was no sign of him.
Briar scrambled toward a pile of ripped-up logs partway up the side of the ravine. She dropped to the ground behind the rubble, hiding from the men her parents would surely send after her. She sat in the darkness, attempting to slow her racing heartbeat and recover her strength. Clouds gathered overhead. A storm was brewing.
How far did she have to go to find safety? New Chester was more than a day’s journey away. Mae and Archer would be long dead by the time she deposited the baby and returned. Her heart stuttered, rebelling against the idea. She couldn’t lose him. They were barely getting started.
Then she heard a sound like the sneeze of a kitten. She raised her head and found herself looking into the wide
