When my heart slowed from panicked to scared, I ghosted along the fence until I found a crack big enough to peer through. Soldiers searched the compound. After a few minutes, the door at the end of the barracks flew open. Men spilled out. And in the middle of a tight group was Kerrick.

Blood flowed from a gash on his forehead. He scowled as they hustled him along. His hands had been manacled behind his back. They took him to a square building in the northwest corner of the camp. Probably a jail or a place where they could interrogate him.

What now? Catching up to Belen and the others would be the smart thing to do. It would be what Kerrick would want me to do. But guilt wouldn’t let me be smart. Oh, no. Guilt knew we had come here for me. And that I had to fix this. The problem of how to rescue him remained.

I considered what I had in my favor. The element of surprise—since they would hopefully assume I had escaped into the forest—my defensive powers and a knife. In order to keep my optimism, I skipped the longer list of things against me.

Waiting for the camp to return to normal, I wiggled into a comfortable position and spied through the crack. As I shivered in my cloak, my thoughts kept returning to Noelle. The venom in her voice and the rage in her gaze still burned in my mind. More guilt swelled. I remembered thinking it was odd that I hadn’t gotten a letter from home in a while, but I had been so wrapped up in my studies that I hadn’t spared the time to discover why. Noelle was right to hate me. I had abandoned her. Desire to make amends, to explain, to hold her until she forgave me, pulsed in my chest. However, Kerrick was first, and later, if I had a later, I would find her again.

The soldiers who had run into the woods returned. Slowly, the compound emptied of searchers and settled. A few men left the square building, but too many for me to handle remained inside. Torchlight glowed from the ground-floor windows.

When I felt as confident as possible considering the circumstances, I climbed the fence and dashed into the shadow of the building. No cries of alarm pierced the air. I drew in a deep breath. Hugging the wall, I crept to one of the windows and peered inside.

The bright light blinded me for a moment. Despite the glass, I heard a man ask, “Where is she going?” No answer. Then a loud slap.

My vision adjusted, and I had an unobstructed view of Kerrick’s bloody back. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t block the image of him with his wrists chained to two posts. He stood between them without a shirt. The man asking him questions held a whip. And each time Kerrick refused to answer, another ugly bleeding slash joined the others.

Five more soldiers witnessed the whipping. Too many for me to fight. Unable to watch, I sank to the ground. I bit down on my knuckle as the torture continued. Tell him something, I silently urged Kerrick. But the stubborn man wouldn’t say a word. He didn’t make a sound the entire time. It went on for an hour or more, but felt like days. The only thing keeping me from surrendering was the fact he would have suffered for nothing if I just waltzed in there.

The soldier finally stopped. He promised to return with a magician, and he left along with three others. Two remained. Could I handle two? I would have to.

I removed my cloak and hid it. My black shirt and pants resembled the training uniform. I twisted my hair up into a knot. Now the hard part. Walking as if I belonged there, I headed to the drinking well. My luck held. No one called out and I found an extra bucket and ladle. Filling the bucket, I returned to the square building.

The door was locked so I knocked on it. A soldier peeked out. “What?”

I held up the bucket. “Captain ordered me to bring the prisoner water, sir.”

He stepped aside, letting me in. The other leaned against the far wall. He peered at me with a contemplative purse on his pudgy lips. Kerrick no longer stood, but hung limply between the posts.

“Would you like a drink first, sir?” I asked the guard.

“Sure.”

I held up a ladle full of water. He took it from me and bent his head to drink. One chance only. I touched the back of his neck with three fingers, and sent a blast of power. The soldier tipped forward as the other one yelled his name. I let him fall, pulled my knife and turned in time to meet Pudgy Lips.

He hadn’t drawn his weapon. Skidding to a stop, he reached for his sword. I didn’t wait; I threw my knife, aiming for his right shoulder. Hard to swing a heavy blade with a knife embedded in flesh and muscle. Then I rushed him. Grabbing his arm, I poured magic into him, overloading his senses. He screamed, then collapsed to the ground.

Not wasting any time, I went to Kerrick. He had passed out. I laid my hands on his chest and shared my energy with him. Kerrick groaned and opened his eyes.

He squinted at me. “Avry, what—?”

“Can you stand?” I put my shoulder under his arm to help him get to his feet. On tiptoe, I inspected the cuffs around his wrists. “Do you know where the key is?”

“No.”

I searched the two guards and found a ring of little silver keys. Dragging a chair over to the post, I stood on it. Of course the right key had to be the third to last one I tried. At least unlocking the second cuff took mere seconds.

Kerrick’s short cape and ripped shirt had been tossed in the corner. By the time he dressed and we slipped from the building, the predawn light had crept over three-quarters of the night sky.

Halfway to freedom, we were spotted. “Hurry,” Kerrick urged as the soldiers chased us.

We scrambled over the fence and dove into the woods. As soon as we entered, Kerrick grabbed my arms. Magic zipped along my skin as we rolled together through the underbrush. Our pursuers crashed through the brush. I marveled over how close they came to stepping on us.