"Up!"

Leather boots kicked dust into my face. My comrades groaned at the soldiers rushing our cell, waking us from sleep. Except that I'd had another sleepless night of staring at the ceiling and nudging Wren every time she snored.

I rose onto stiff legs.

"What's this about?" Leif spat on the ground. "We don't die for another twelve days. Are you impatient?”

“Quiet,” I whispered.

“Line up!” A soldier jerked my wrist closer and slapped a shackle on tightly. I dug my nails into my palms to keep from lashing out.

Soon they forced us all out of the jailhouse, taking only two groups of our best warriors.

Twilight met us outside, a navy sky splashed with constellations of beautiful white lights. This far north, the sun only truly set for a few hours in the summertime. I loved the midnight sun, but I'd even learned to enjoy the endless nights of winter. It reminded me of things I learned in our science classes at the Sacred School, and I never wanted to forget those truths when so few in my world had the privilege of knowing anything like that.

We continued down the path until we reached the courtyard, where the Prophet had stood on the stage yesterday, mocking us with our families held captive behind him. There, he met us again, alone this time.

My skin crawled as I looked up into the face that haunted my nightmares and met me when time and space slipped between my fingers.

I searched for any sign of where they might have housed our innocents, but the entire village was foreign to me. Knowing Rune was somewhere within the village walls both comforted and tortured me. How must Leif feel?

The Prophet's voice boomed like the night before. “The Flatlanders are staging an attack. If we lose, your innocent fall into their hands. You’ll fight with us.”

That was why they’d chosen a small, but effective group of our warriors. Easier to control fewer people. Beside me, my comrades scoffed, shackles clanking as they threw up their hands. But I stayed still. This was an opportunity for me to escape and return home to the Mountain of the Gods for help. If I could convince anyone back there not to kill me, that was. Besides, we fucking hated Flatlanders. They had tried to steal land from us for as long as anyone in the village could remember. I wouldn't mind killing a few of them while I scoped out my escape route.

“I’ll have messengers on rotation every hour," the Prophet said. "Any negative report and I will slaughter ten of your innocent.”

Brutal. I would need to fake my death in battle then.

The guards led us behind the stage to a row of sheds. My eyes widened when I entered one and found our weapons stashed in a pile. My shield stood out near the back of the shed, its red emblem burning like fire.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

Others shuffled forward in their bonds but I stayed put, turning possibilities in my mind. If I seemed hesitant to fight, falling in battle could be more believable, because I wouldn’t be at my best.

“Take up your shield.” A guard glared.

I clenched my fists, playing through scenarios in my mind. It seemed better if I pretended to not be willing to enter this battle. Why let anyone know what I was thinking?

Rough hands grabbed my wrists. “Take your shield, woman! Your spear!”

I slammed my bound hands against him. “Why should I fight for my enemies?”

Nash entered beside me, a spear in each hand. “An enemy of your enemy is not your friend in this valley.” He held one out to me. “Fight for your fellow prisoners, not us.”

Our gaze met as I wrestled internally with turning the spear on the man near me and fighting for my people to escape now. Foolish impulse. Without my power, the Prophet would use his to kill me in a second. I knew that. Still, it tempted me.

“Will I fight in bonds?”

Nash took my wrist and lifted my hands between us, hesitating once he’d pushed the key into the lock. “The Prophet is not a forgiving or patient man. Promise me that you’ll be wise when I release you.”

“Why do you care?”

No answer. He unlocked the shackles and peeled the coarse metal from my tender skin.

Quickly, I turned for my shield and then found the familiar hard leather of my armor, fingers gliding down to the stitching from Leif's repairs over our last training session. Finally, I’d feel like myself again. I pulled it over my tunic and sighed.

“Where’s my bow?” I asked the guards when I walked outside.

“You won’t need it,” a guard said.

“If you want to live I do.”

“Give it to her,” Nash said.

The guard groaned and stepped into another shed, beckoning me. Nash must have held some sway to get the man to listen to him. I'd picked a good person to get to know.

I entered the shed and my breath caught. There it was. The beautiful smooth arch of the bow that had saved my ass more times than I could count. It had been thrown carelessly on the ground with dozens of other bows. I could take out a lot of these fools with this.

We gathered outside before the stage where some of the Prophet’s warriors now talked in groups. Others were joining us, outnumbering us five to one, and that wasn’t counting the guards. Several warriors gathered my people into groups of five and gave us cloth bags with the most basic of supplies. Water, bandages, a small sharpening stone. A guard lit lanterns that circled the courtyard. The Prophet must have needed to spare electricity. The show from the night before may have been a special event, meant to intimidate us.

Foolishly, a warrior separated me from Wren and Leif. They might have thought it would make us easier to manage, but it only weakened their war party to jumble our usual formations.

“This is your squad for the battle.” The woman was tall, taller than many of the men in the courtyard. “Stay together and follow my lead. I’ll be your commander."

As she spoke, a feeling came over me, similar to the sensation of being stared at, only much more intense.

I straightened. Felt her before I saw her or heard her. The haze of power emanated from the temple like heat from a raging fire. It called out to the dormant power trapped within me so I thirsted for it like a woman dying of dehydration. Still it was a mere pinprick of what I'd felt when our village was attacked.

“A demon!” Warriors and guards alike shouted.