Chapter 4—Terra

His mother sobs quietly. Lord Spurlock picks the little boy up and clutches him to his chest, rocking back and forth. It’s an extremely private moment, and I’m uncomfortable witnessing it. I scoot quietly toward the door and crack it a bit.

The gravelly-voiced man, probably Kyle, stands outside, his eyes widening when he sees me. “Is Joshua alright?”

I shake my head tightly.

His face falls. “Oh, no.”

“We probably ought to leave,” I whisper. “I think they need some privacy.”

“It was the Wasting, then,” he whispers, his voice surprisingly gentle.

I nod.

“Yes, you probably ought to be shown out.” He widens the door and motions silently for Thomas and Martin to come. They don’t waste any time following Kyle’s directions. We’re halfway down the hall to the main corridor when someone calls for us.

“Wait. Healers, wait.”

I freeze, dread pooling at the bottom of my stomach. We were so close to escaping. I turn slowly, Martin and Thomas turning stiffly at my side.

“Yes?” Martin asks.

It’s Joshua’s mother. Tear tracks streak her face. “You haven’t been paid.”

Martin shakes his head. “No payment is necessary.”

She walks toward us, her soft slippers barely making a sound on the plush carpet. “You came to try and save my boy in his last moments. You knew what was happening, and you came anyway. And when my husband frightened you, you were still kind.” She unclasps a golden pendant from around her neck and extends it. “I don’t have money with me, but please. Take this.”

Martin’s eyes widen. “I couldn’t possibly.”

“If you don’t, I’ll be forced to leave and hunt down our clerk to obtain payment.”

She’ll have to leave the bedside of her deceased child and his mourning father. Martin sighs and extends his hand, reluctantly taking the ornate pendant, a symbol of a Ram’s head. It represents Amun, the foretold God whom the Followers of Amun believe will one day return.

“I know Healers don’t believe in Amun, but you can melt it down or sell it to one of his followers.” She forces a sad smile. “Thank you for your kindness and your willingness to help.” Her eyes well with tears.

“Our thoughts are with you, Lady.” I try to curtsy. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I manage not to fall on my face.

She wipes her eyes and turns around, jogging back to her husband and departed son.

And then we walk out, mercilessly safe. Unchallenged. Alive. I shouldn’t be, but I’m startled to find that when we emerge, the sun has already set. There’s a chill in the air, and I shiver. Most concerning of all, Francis, Sunshine, and Wind aren’t where we left them. Martin looks at me, and then we all turn to the soldier who brought us.

Kyle grunts. “I trust you can find your way back to your wagon ring.”

“What about our horses?” Martin asks. “We tied them to this post in our haste.” He points to the conspicuous lack of mounts anywhere.

“Ah.” The man nods. “They’d have been taken to the stable. Look for Robert and tell him you’re the Healers whom Lord Leonard bid come.”

We follow his directions to the stable and locate Robert pretty easily. He has the reddest face of any man I’ve ever met, and he’s even surlier than Lord Spurlock. . .which is moderately impressive. His nearly black hair is streaked with silver, almost the exact color of his eyes. “They’re here.” Robert points, and I follow the direction of his arm and find our horses. Thank goodness.

The guys’ saddles are slung over the side walls of the stall doors. The bridles are slung next to them.

I didn’t expect them to take such good care of our horses, honestly. I lift the latch to enter Wind’s stall and he snuffles against my hand, searching for a treat. “The second we get home, boy, I promise.” I bridle him and lead him out while I wait for Martin and Thomas to saddle Sunshine and Francis. They lead their horses out, and Thomas gives me a boost up onto Wind. After all, I can’t exactly Bind handholds to hop up right here in the Unit stable.

I breathe a heavy sigh of relief as we all head for the exit. Wind is nervous, as are Sunshine and Francis. They can probably pick up on our nerves, but soon we’ll be gone. Robert’s leaning against the front doors of the stable, glaring. We can’t escape this place fast enough.

“Your saddle is canted sideways,” Thomas says.

I glance over at Martin and realize that his is. Every horse holds in some air, but Francis is the absolute worst about it. It would be just our luck for it to slide around sideways and have Martin fall off now that we’re finally heading home. He groans and swings off, bending a little to tighten the girth.

The necklace hardly makes a sound when it slides out and lands on the cobblestone floor of the front of the stable. Only a tiny clink, really. But Robert notices it immediately, his eyes narrowing and his lip curling. He straightens and strides toward us. His fingers dart downward and pick it up. “You trashy thieves. This is her ladyship’s pendant.”

I shake my head. “No, you don’t understand. She gave it to us, as payment.”

He sneers. “She would never—she wears it everywhere. You stole it, and you won’t get away with it.” His eyes glow, silver light spilling outward, and I realize he’s Lifting something. I reach out with my senses, feeling for any threat.

The dagger isn’t large, but even something small can do a lot of damage when it’s aimed at a man’s heart. I don’t have time to think, to argue, or to be rational. It’s why I came—to protect Martin.

I Lift the dagger and send it flying into the side wall. Then I Lift Robert from the ground by his throat, his eyes bulging, and fling him against the front of the stable. His head makes a thump as it connects with solid wood, and I shudder.

“Run,” Martin shouts. “Run, now.” He leaps to the back of Frances and gallops out of the stable. Thomas and I follow without argument. The guards aren’t accustomed to blocking people from exiting, and they simply move aside as we thunder past the gates to the main castle. By the time we reach the entrance to the surrounding town, someone is sprinting after us, shouting.

“Faster,” Martin screams.

Wind could outpace both the other horses without a thought, but I don’t let him. I stick to their sides, and as our horses exit the main city gate and cobblestones give way to packed dirt, we accelerate yet again. We reach the wagon wing of the troupe in record time, all three horses winded and huffing.

“Hitch up the wagons,” Martin yells. “We leave immediately.”

“I don’t understand,” I say. “You didn’t actually steal anything. Surely the lady will clear that misunderstanding up.”

Martin doesn’t even look at me. He’s staring at the other members of the troupe who are all goggling at us wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “Alora Lifted in the camp. They’ll be coming for her any moment.”

They pack faster than I imagined possible. Moments after we arrive, the wagons are hitched, the horses are hooked up, and we’re on the road.

“Tie Wind to the back of my wagon,” Martin says. “Next to Francis. He’ll need a break.”

“But then where will I—”

Martin pats the bench seat beside him. “I have some things to tell you, and they aren’t good.”

“What do you have to tell me?” The hard ball forming in my stomach isn’t patient. I shouldn’t have Lifted or harmed Robert, but he tried to kill Martin. It was self defense. Surely Lady Spurlock will see that.

“I’ve always stressed the importance of keeping your ability hidden.” Martin’s voice is gruff, angry even.

“He would have killed you,” I say. “He sent a dagger—”

“Thomas could have Healed that,” he says. “And as you say, the lady would have cleared up the misunderstanding.”

“You can’t Heal dead.” I set my jaw. That dagger was headed for his heart.

Martin’s strong hands cover mine where they’re knotted on my lap. “I love you, Alora. You know that.”

“I’m sorry.” My voice is small, broken. “Did I ruin everything?”

He turns toward me then, his hands squeezing mine. “I’m not angry with you. I’m worried about you.”

“But why?” I wail. “Everyone knows women can’t Lift. It’s not a crime to abandon life as a citizen and join a troupe, they just think it’s a fate worse than death so none of them do it. They’ll assume you Lifted to stop his dagger, or that Thomas did. No one will suspect what they know cannot be.”

Martin shakes his head slowly. “Robert was staring right at you. He saw your eyes light up.”

“So they’ll finally know the world isn’t as simple as they thought,” I say. “It was the Followers of Amun. They hate women. They probably won’t even care.”

“Wrong,” Martin says. “They do hate women, but they have a prophecy about a woman who will one day be born who will be able to Lift. They call her the Warden, and they believe she will destroy Terra.”

I swallow. “They can’t possibly—”

“They’ve all taken an oath, every last member of the Followers of Amun.” Martin stares straight ahead. His knuckles grip the reins of the wagon so tightly that they’re entirely white.

“What kind of oath?”

“To kill you, Alora.” His voice trembles. “Now they know you’re real and not some empty threat made up by their forefathers. They’ll never stop coming for you.” He turns to face me. “You’ll never be safe again.”