Page 51 of A Kingdom of Lies

The door slammed open, wood crashing into the stone wall.

Heavy footsteps followed.

Before I could sit up, uncaring hands snatched me from bed and dragged me to the floor. In the noise of rushed, urgent shouts, I could hear Gyah’s angered cries. But I couldn’t hear Althea, although I imagined she’d never show her panic with screams and shouts.

Hunters surrounded us, sharing commands which I couldn’t make out.

“What are you doing?” I said, heart a lump in my throat, trying to elbow my way free. But the more I struggled, the more hands took hold of me.

And no one replied. I was helpless to do anything but let them take me, my feet dragging across the floor.

Focus. I remembered the night I had first been taken by Hunters. Pressing my panic down, I tried to study the details of what was happening. If no one would tell me, then I would have to piece the puzzle together myself.

It was dawn outside the window, another day lost. I looked down the corridor beyond the room, the sky beyond a pale plum colour with wisps of thin clouds. I was tired, but nothing was new there; the sleep I had been snatched from must have only been a couple of hours at most.

What was different to my first abduction was these Hunters were not calm or smug. Something panicked them. Their hold on me was harsh and rushed, their movements quickened by something that I had not yet figured out.

We were out in the open, the courtyard a mess of Hunters running across the straw-covered ground towards the rising stone platforms around the fortress’s edge. They held large hunting bows almost the same height as them. Swords dangled from hips. Cloaks billowed out behind them.

I looked up at the shrill cry that split the sky. Large, fearless creatures cut through the sky, dancing through the air with precision. For a moment I thought the gryvern had found us, but it was birds that I saw. Hawks – large bodied and sharp-beaked. There was a storm cloud of them, circling Finstock from above.

We were dragged towards a familiar wheeled cage. Its iron bars caught the morning rays as it waited in the heart of the courtyard for us. Duncan stood beside it, his voice booming over the crowd as he shouted commands with haste. The expression on his face, grooved lines across his forehead and neck tense, encouraged my panic to take hold again.

He noticed our arrival, waving us forward as though the Hunters didn’t pull us along fast enough. Another Hunter I didn’t recognise stood close beside him.

This one was tall, but not as towering as Duncan. Pale, ginger curls cut close around a youthful but handsome face. Bright azure eyes were framed by his serious expression. But it was the hawk resting upon his shoulder that entranced me, how it chirped in his ear, whispering secrets of the skies.

Duncan knew this man in a different way to the Hunters who dragged and manhandled us now. I hadn’t seen Duncan having conversations with anyone, usually barking commands or asserting his dominance as their general. But with this amber-haired man, they spoke as equals, Duncan even going so far as to listen intently before formulating a response.

“What’s happening?” I called, trying to pull out of the many hands that held me. It was wasted effort.

Duncan spared me a glance, flicking his stare between the man he spoke with and me. “It would seem we have afewunannounced guests on their way.”

Was it Erix, or the Cedarfall army? Whatever the answer, Duncan seemed spooked.

“Get them in the cage,” he shouted at the men and woman holding us. “We leave Finstock immediately.”

Gyah continuously shouted about the horrors she would unleash upon the men and women who touched her. It was a surprise they did not let her go just from the pure, haunting terror she promised them.

“Erix?” I said the name in question to Duncan as I passed him.

He ignored me, as if answers were not something I deserved.

Perhaps it was the company, or the person who stood as his shadow, but the usual smile was not upon his face. This version of Duncan was serious and stoic. “It would seem your Berserker has given up on you and instead marches with a horde of fey warriors. One man we could take, but an army, my Hunters are not prepared for that. It takes a clever man to know when to run and when to fight.”

“And run we shall,” the ginger-haired boy spoke, his hawk screeching in agreement.

I blanched, skin paling, the blood rushing to my feet. “Duncan. Althea and Gyah, let them go. They can stop them–”

“No, Robin. I cannot do that.” Duncan turned to the red-haired Hunter. “Kayne, help secure them into the cage.”

I latched onto the stranger’s name as the Hunters hoisted me past him, pushing me up into the cage which rocked with my added weight, and I took note of our surroundings. There were clearly more Hunters around Finstock than before; they must have arrived with Kayne, bringing warning of the pending fey army’s arrival.

“Has our time apart from one another made you forget, Duncan?” Kayne asked, long fingers gripped around the wolf-shaped hilt of the sword at his waist. “We’re equals, mate. It has been many years since you commanded me.”

Duncan huffed, rolling his dark-forest eyes as though he spoke with a sibling, one who both impressed him and equally annoyed him. “Then getyourHunters prepared. We will get a head start and wait for you at our chosen checkpoint.”

Both men clasped hands, holding each other away by the width of an arm as they embraced. “It was always me who stayed back to fight whilst you looked for shelter,” Kayne observed.

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