Standing to my feet I brushed my dirt caked hands on my shirt and looked around for a means of faster escape. I glanced back down into the trapdoor, looking for signs of Kael or Cammie. But the passageway was empty except for the faint glow of fire and a trail of smoke that was pouring out of it.

There were eight wooden stalls in the stable, six were empty. I knew the Raven wasn’t here because Scar Lip had said so and I hadn’t seen any of the cursed Septori. Where were they? Somewhere close? Or did they build a stable out in the middle of nowhere for this purpose. No, I thought to myself, there had to be another building close by. I wasn’t sure but I didn’t think the prison seemed big enough to house all of the Septori and guards. If that was the case that meant they would see the smoke and soon they would be upon us.

Two horses were still stabled and the signs that a third was here not too long ago. Tym was smart enough to grab a mount. The two horses were starting to panic as more smoke poured in through the trapdoor.

Running to the wall, I grabbed the bridle from a hook and tried to put the bay's tack on. My hands were shaking so much that I kept fumbling with the cinch. Once finished, I reached for the roan's bridle. I knew I wasn’t going to have time for saddles, I was tiring quickly and I didn't have the strength to hoist the saddles onto the horse’s backs, when I slipped in something warm and wet.

Looking down, I saw that I had stepped in a small pool of blood. Horror and shock froze me and the jerking of the horses pulled my attention back to the dire situation. Ignore the blood, get out of here. NOW!

I struggled to keep both horses under control as I led them out of the stable into the darkening night. The crackling fire and the pungent smell of smoke were getting closer, and making the horses panic. The sound of a rushing river caught my ear and I half pulled, half sweet talked the horses toward the water away from fire. But once they caught sight of the water, they dragged me the rest of the way. Looking over my shoulder toward the stable I prayed that Kael would hurry up and get out of there.

Reaching the river bed I dropped to my knees and leaned down to wash the dirt from my hands. Cupping my hands I drank the water down in huge gulps, the coldness making my empty stomach cramp in pain. But my stomach pain was soon an afterthought as I felt the cool prick of a knife at my throat.

I froze in fear, hands to my side, still kneeling by the riverbed; the rocks digging into my knees painfully. Too scared to turn my head, I followed the blade of a knife with my eyes to Scar Lip’s shaking body. He was angry, bloody and sputtering in rage.

“You little brat, he’s going to hold me responsible!” Scar Lip grabbed me around the throat with his free hand and began to squeeze. His voice became cold, hard “but you are the one who’s going to pay, just like the boy!”

My mind flashed to the drops of blood I saw in the stable and I made the connection to Tym. Scar Lip had killed Tym!

Wildly I clawed at Scar Lip’s huge hands trying to pry them from around my neck, to no avail. Dropping one hand I frantically dug my fingers into the dirt; looking for anything that could be used as a weapon, when my fingers wrapped around a small rock.

White specks danced before my eyes and I knew I was running out of time. And during this bizarre moment is when I realized my constant headache had disappeared. In a final act of desperation, I swung the rock at his head and Scar Lip yelled, dropping the knife into the river.

Gasping for breath I scrambled to my feet, my hands reaching for my bruised throat. It ached and I had trouble swallowing and catching my breath. I had just turned to look for Scar Lip, when a large branch came out of the darkness connecting with my head. White blinding pain filled my conscience. Spinning with the force of the blow I fell backwards into the fast moving river. The coldness made me gasp for breath and water filled my mouth making me choke. I was able to glimpse the starry night turning bright with orange fire before my world turned pitch black.

Chapter 2

The smell of cooking meat and the sound of a campfire crackling brought me slowly to awareness; that and the small stone that was stabbing my lower back with a vengeance. Being very careful not to change the rhythm of my breathing, I listened and tried to take stock of my surroundings through lowered lashes.

I was laid out on a bedroll underneath the open sky with a cloak rolled up under my head. The scent of sweat, spice and horse mingled together and assailed my nose. The sound of numerous horses nickering warned me of the possibility of multiple people in the camp. I looked for any signs of the Septori or Scar Lip.

A small fire was being tended by a brown haired, middle aged man wearing the most flamboyant outfit I had ever seen. He was arrayed in patchwork blues, yellow and white. The clothing was wrapped so intricately I couldn’t tell where one swatch began and the other stopped. Light tan leather boots went up his calf and ended with ornately decorated designs of swirls and flourishes. I was staring so hard that I missed someone leaning over me until a shadow covered my face.

“Well Darren, it looks like our little fish is awake,” the shadow spoke.

All pretense of feigning sleep vanished as I found myself confronted with the most handsome young man I’d ever seen. I took in the wind-blown, sandy blonde hair and dimpled smile. His deep green eyes were pools of emotions. Worry, kindness, hope were so evident in them that I soon lost all thought of being afraid. He was beautiful, too beautiful to be human. His attractiveness left me stunned and gaping wide mouthed like the fish he had moments before called me.

“How are you doing?”

His strong fingers went to my brow to adjust the bandage that was wrapped around my head. I flinched with the contact. He made shushing noises as I tried to protest the cup of water he was putting to my lips. But once the cool water touched my dry throat I grasped his hand and began to drink greedily, moaning in protest when he pulled it away.

“No, that’s enough. I’m sure you have plenty of questions, and we have some for you, but let me assure you first and foremost that you are safe. And we won’t harm you. What’s your name?”

“Thalia.” I paused as I racked my brain helplessly for more. But that’s all I was able to give him.

“Well, Thalia, you can call me Joss. The funny looking man burning the soup is Darren Hamden.” He gestured to the brightly decorated man I was staring at earlier. My eyes skimmed Joss' outfit and saw that he too, was dressed in finely tailored clothes, although not as exuberant as Darren's clothes.

“Where are we?” I implored.

“Well, we are currently in Calandry,” he said as he pointed across the river, “right over there is Sinnendor, if that is where you would like to be?”

I stared blankly at Joss, waiting for him to elaborate. He bobbed his head as he hurriedly tried to explain.

“We stopped to water the horses and found you, injured and burning with fever on the riverbank.” Joss nodded in Darren’s direction. “Darren thought maybe you had a run in with some of Sinnendor's Elite.”

What I knew of Sinnendor was very little. It was a country run by a King that hated all Denai. So the Denai stayed clear of their borders and the blood thirsty king. But accidents happen and sometimes Sinnendor’s bloodline wasn’t always as pure as the King hoped. Those with mixed blood tried to escape at night to Calandry, where all races were welcome. Most never made it past the guards, or “The Elite,” Sinnendor's fiercest warriors that patrolled the borders and killed anyone trying to enter or leave the country on sight. Their sole purpose was to keep the scourge of the impure out of the country and kill those with it, trying to leave.