Page 89 of War Hour

My power is gone.

Reaching for my dagger, my hand smooths over my thigh where it is normally tucked away in my garter. I curse under my breath. “Trials, Lysta.” In my frantic rush to the judgment hearing, I had left it behind under my pillow.

Across the field, the assassin steps forward, which makes me stagger backward automatically.

Breathing heavily, I wait for a moment before turning on my heel and running in the other direction. Directly toward the Border Forest.

The sword follows, its wielder not far behind.

When I approach the boundary separating the forest from the field, I feel my power thrum to life. Relief courses through me, a strangled sob making its way out of my throat.

I don’t have the time to bask in it, immediately whipping around to bring the shield up just as the assassin’s swords swings toward my throat.

A satisfied smile twists at my lips until the assassin moves closer, still at least one hundred paces from me, and the shield slips away.

Horror slinks down my spine.

Could this shadow-covered man take away my powers?

Again and again, I try to pull out my shield with no success. The sword lashes out at me, and I block it with my arm, hissing in pain as the blade slices through my sleeves and skin.

How can I pursue a man or defend myself against someone I can’t get close to? I look to the left and right, desperate for a way out.

My only escape, the forest behind me.

Without hesitating, I pivot and sprint into the canopy of the trees.

Chapter 34

Dusk chases me in the forest, stealing every bit of light that guides me through the endless, winding trees. The evening haze makes it impossible to see if the assassin still follows me, but as my chest heaves with rasping breaths, I have to stop.

Falling into the shadows of a tree with cascading branches, I use my quick break to listen for someone pursuing me. There’s a shuffle of leaves as wind swirls through the fallen piles accumulating on the forest floor. But no footsteps or voices.

I collapse at the base of the tree to collect myself, adrenaline pumping through my body. My ankle throbs an aching pain, twisted from stepping on a rotted through log that caved under my weight. I’m lucky I didn’t break my leg, but I still curse as I touch the swollen area.

Why would someone try to kill me now? I could see before the judgment meeting, keeping me from talking, but they already ruled in Drytas’s favor now.

It has to be about revenge.

I’m out of Drytas’s way. The Crowns will never take anything I say at face value again. I’m no longer a threat, if he ever considered me one to begin with.

Maybe if I’d made enough of an impact, the ink of my words would stain his reputation for the foreseeable future. But he won—what do I know that would threaten him enough to kill me?

Leaning back against the tree, I close my eyes, body and mind exhausted. The trauma and weight of everything that I’ve experienced in one day weighs heavy on me, and I haven’t even had the time to truly process it—to grieve.

My throat tightens.

Spending the night on the forest floor isn’t favorable, but for all I know, the assassin could just be waiting for me to retreat to the capital.

I freeze when a thud echoes through the ground, not moving a muscle until the tremble sounds again. Flying to my feet, I crouch, surveying the surrounding area for the disturbance.

But the shakes continue without revealing its origin, becoming louder and heavier.

I stumble to the right, gasping when a flock of birds burst from a nearby tree, their cries sounding as they flood the sky, disappearing into the darkness.

From behind the towering trees, where the birds have just flown from, steps out a creature. Its body is as green as the surrounding trees. Patches of moss and flowers grow on the skin of its back and hang from its large, protruding antlers.

A stag. Sort of like the ones Doireann used to get in occasionally for meat, but this one is impossibly massive. Its antlers tangling in the thicket as it pushes forward.

---