Beyan ignored her and started grabbing whatever he could from the campsite, hastily packing things haphazardly. “Come on, we have to get moving.”
Farrah, Rhyss, and I didn’t move. “What’s going on?” Rhyss asked.
“I’ll explain later, but for now, we have to go,” Beyan said.
“What about Joichan?” Farrah said.
“We’ll find him later. Come on, we don’t have much time.”
His unceasing urgency finally galvanized us into action. We jumped out of our bedrolls and started packing, but it was too late. Heavy footsteps made us look up. Several of King Hendon’s soldiers marched into our campsite.
Two of the soldiers instantly targeted me, grabbing my arms and forcing me away from the others. My friends tried to come to my aid, but found themselves facing the sharp ends of the soldiers’ swords. One of the men stepped forward. I recognized him as Kestos, the Captain of the Guard.
“Kestos! What are you and your men doing? I demand you let me go, right now!” I tried to dig in my heels, but the two men holding me easily lifted me as if I weighed no more than a feather. With the guards holding my arms, I was unable to cast any spells. Not that I would have wanted to; I would never have wanted to do anything, magical or otherwise, against my own people.
Kestos looked at me sadly. “I have to follow orders, Your Highness. Otherwise, there will be consequences.”
He turned to Beyan, who was glaring at the men holding me. “His Majesty, King Hendon of Calia, thanks you for your help, young man.”
Farrah gasped. Rhyss’s eyes grew wide. Beyan turned his glare on Kestos.
“For your service.” Kestos threw a small, dull brown pouch at Beyan’s feet. The clink it made as it landed promised a hefty reward.
“You can keep your filthy money,” Beyan spat out. He made a move, like he was going to pick up the pouch and throw it, but the soldier who held him at sword point moved in closer. Beyan stepped back.
My guards started to haul me toward the castle. The people at the other campsites looked away as we passed; no one wanted to get involved in whatever issue had occurred. My vision was blurring; tears were flowing down my face, unchecked. Through my watery eyes I saw Beyan, Rhyss, and Farrah get smaller and smaller as they helplessly watched me get taken away.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
MY TEARS HAD STOPPED somewhere after we had entered the castle, but once the soldiers dragged me down to the dungeons, they threatened to start again.
I could see through my watery haze that I wasn’t the only one down here. Each cell we passed had at least one or two occupants, sometimes more. Young and old, male and female. Some of the prisoners were mumbling to themselves, while others sat or lay on the ground and stared at the walls. I was shocked to recognize one or two nobles in the cells; I had been informed, months ago, that they had left for their country estates and would be gone for a while. And yet, here they were in the palace dungeons. With me.
One boy started screaming as we passed. I longed to put my hands to my ears to drown out the noise, but since two soldiers had a firm grip on my arms, I didn’t try. Instead, I started at him as we passed, overcome by some morbid fascination. The screaming boy was in the same cell as a young girl who was staring sightlessly out into the corridor. They had similar features. In fact, they were twins. The girl was —
“Sava?” I gasped, and stopped walking to get a better look. It was her, the blueberry-loving kitchen maid that Taryn and I had discussed oh-so-long ago.
“Sava, are you okay? Why are you in here?” I spoke a little louder, trying to drown out her screaming brother and get her attention. Sava didn’t respond when I called her name. She just kept staring, dead-eyed, at something beyond me.
One of the soldiers holding my arm shook me a little, tightening his grip. “Keep moving.”
Reluctantly, I started walking again. We passed two more cells before the guards unlocked a door and shoved me into a cell. My tears started falling in earnest.
Sniffing, I blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears and adjust to the dim light coming from a small, barred window near the ceiling.
I stared despondently at the magic-blocking band one of the soldiers had clamped around my wrist before shoving me into the cell. The dark metal bracelet glared back at me, as if daring me to try my abilities. I tried to cast a calling spell; my magic sputtered and recoiled back on me, shocking my hand and causing my heart to beat erratically. I sat down hard, breathless and scared. It was a good thing I hadn’t tried a bigger or more complex spell. Who knows what the repercussions might have been? But it also meant I would not be able to contact Joichan or anyone else through my magic.
I heard rustling somewhere to my left. I gasped and lifted my skirts. Rats?
“Jennica? Is that you?”
My eyes had adjusted enough to see a shadowy figure on the floor. A slim woman with tangled blond curls, whose voice sounded like...
“Taryn?”
She barreled into me, giving me an enormous hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” She stiffened and stepped back, eyes downcast. “I mean... forgive me, Your Highness, for being so familiar.”
I reached out and pulled her back into an embrace. “Taryn, you ninny. Titles don’t matter down here. Especially not between friends. I’m so glad to see you safe.”
My face was wet again, but I was laughing. Taryn was laughing and crying as well. For several minutes, we let it all out, the tension and hysteria and relief and uncertainty. When we had finally controlled ourselves, Taryn sat down on the stone floor and patted the area next to her. Gingerly, I joined her, gathering my skirts around me
