I grip the back of the beautifully crafted mahogany chair and drag it in front of the window. With a grunt, I heave the solid wood over my head, sending it crashing through the glass.

Stepping onto the windowsill, I climb through glass shards to stand precariously on the other side. A glance down reveals a four-story drop, the chair in pieces below. The darkness stretches downward and cold night air whips through my clothes deep into my bones but shouts from behind pull my attention. The guards are rushing forward.

“Stop, or I jump!”

Like little automatons they halt, dread clear in their eyes. That’s right. Just imagine the consequences of letting the commander’s sister jump to her death on your watch.

“I want Jaxon.” I inch further along the narrow edge lining the exterior wall, away from the window and out of reach.

“Alright, alright!” The one on the left holds out his hand. “I’ll go get the Captain. Just, don’t move.”

My breath puffs out white clouds that sweep away into the cold night, and I shiver against the icy bricks at my back as I wait. Another peek below and I grind my teeth. A full moon illuminates the wide open field and training grounds beyond.

“Miss Volkov.”

Glass crunches beneath my shoes as I shift to see the voice’s owner. He sounds winded, hair out of place. Face, pale.

Jaxon keeps his distance but his body is tense, muscles strung tight. “Talk to me.”

“Make them leave,” I demand. “I don’t want them here.”

The two guards exchange looks of anxious dread and Jaxon gives them a nod. I peer around the edge and catch them leaving the room.

“Not just out of the room. I want them gone.”

Jaxon hesitates so I inch further away, turning to stare over the edge at the ground below. Jaxon takes a step closer, raising a halting hand my way. “Don’t—don’t do that. Miss Volkov, look at me. Keep your eyes on me, okay?”

He says something to the men, and a few moments pass between us. “It’s just you and me, okay? Tell me what’s going on.”

I’ve never taken an acting class. I suspect I would fail miserably if past experiences count as anything. I never fooled Jol, and the only time I succeeded in convincing someone of a lie was when they practically told it for me.

But right now, this is real. What I feel is real. It’s not a lie.

“I can’t do this,” I say. “I can’t do this without Eli. I need him.”

Jaxon takes another step closer and in response, I shuffle a little further away. He stops.

“There are those who need you, Miss Volkov. I know it may not seem like it, but you’re not alone. Many people care about you.”

The tears come easily enough. All I have to do is let the horrible visions plaguing me all night rise to the surface. I see Eli bound, walking up those steps in the town square. Forced to his knees. His eyes meet mine as the ax is raised high—

“Miss Volkov!”

Jaxon’s shout snaps me from my stupor and I realize my body has been slowly leaning forward. As my center of gravity shifts, my heart jumps up my throat and I claw at the brick behind me, pulling myself back to it.

“Please! Whatever you want. I will make it happen!”

Jaxon looks well and truly panicked now, and he is not alone. I almost gave myself a heart attack. Who knew I would end up nearly pancaking myself through no other means than sheer ineptitude? I need to stay focused. I’m here to save Eli, not kill myself.

“Don’t lie to me,” I say with conviction. “I know you can’t save Eli; Ivan would let me die if it means he gets his revenge.”

Which isn’t entirely true. I think. I could use my own life as a bargaining chip and force Ivan to spare Eli or else I jump to my death. But it requires two things I don’t trust. I must fool Ivan into believing I truly am suicidal. And Ivan must be true to his word. Otherwise, I get a straightjacket the moment I step off this windowsill and Eli still dies.

“Your brother loves you, he is just”—Jaxon struggles for a word—“a little lost right now. But he does love you. If you do this, it will destroy him.”

“Maybe I want that.”

“No, you don’t. I’ve seen you. You’re strong and smart and kind, and you love him. You came all this way for him. He’s your brother.”

I notice Jaxon now stands several feet closer than before. A few more, and he could reach out and graze my ankle with his fingertips. I need to hurry this up.

“Not after tonight.” I squeeze out a few more tears. “I’ll be alone after tonight.”

“No, you’re not alone. You have people who care about you. Your brother. Thomas. Fin…me.”

Those copper eyes bore into mine with all the intensity of a desperate man. Finally. The fish bit the hook.

“You?”

He takes a step closer and this time I don’t inch away. My tears feel like icy trails down my cheeks in the night chill.

“Yes, me. Especially me.” I see his control slipping. His normal, seamless look of propriety fractures as something akin to misery shows through. “You have no idea the power you hold over a man.”

Well, I’m about to find out.

I muster up a soft sob. “Will you stay with me?”

He closes the last of the distance in an instant, reaching out the window for me to take his hand. “Of course. However long you want, I will stay with you. I am right here.”

I stare at his outstretched fingers with a racing heart, knowing what I must do. Everything rests on what comes next.

I take hold of his hand. Strong fingers wrap tightly over mine and guide my exhausted, shaky steps along the edge away from the window. Toward Jaxon. The moment I am within reach, he snatches my waist and pulls me inside. When my feet touch the floor, his arms loosen but remain around me.

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He is warm, or maybe I am just cold from the night air. But I lean into the embrace, hiding my face in his chest. He holds me tighter, one arm around my back while the other cradles the base of my head.

The dagger on his waist glints in the soft moonlight. Adrenaline spikes like fire through my veins. I reach for it.

“I’m sorry.” His words stop me. “I’m sorry you have to go through this. I tried talking your brother out of it, but he’s stubborn. Not unlike you.”

My fingers quiver as quick, shallow breaths threaten to break me. Is that where he was all night? Guilt sucker punches me.

“Why did you let me see Eli?” I ask, cursing myself as I do. Stop hesitating.

“I did it because, if I were in your position I would want a chance to say goodbye.”

My face screws up. Jaxon is not a bad man, but in times like this I wish he were. Maybe then, my heart wouldn’t be clawing for escape from my chest and I wouldn’t feel so sick to my stomach. I slowly return his embrace, sliding my arms around his narrow waist. His arms tighten in turn.

Quick as a rattlesnake strike, I snatch the dagger and plunge it into his side, shoving it as deep as I can.

Over my head comes a sharp inhale followed by a grunt of pain as I release the handle. I pull away in time to catch the look on his face: shock swirled with pain and betrayal.

I’m sorry.

I run.

The silence behind me catches me off guard. He doesn’t even shout out. Maybe he is too shocked. Or maybe the knife got something vital and he is simply dying back there. I clutch a fist to my chest.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

~~~

I sit, quiet as a dead man at the top of the bell tower. The faintest hints of sunrise light the horizon painting the sky shades of deep, velvety midnight blue. My back presses against the stone wall and a cold breeze snakes through the open space. The enormous metal bell before me, big as a door, waits for the end of the hour like a reaper standing in a doorway. My bow is strewn across my lap.

By now, my brother will have heard the news of my escape. He can either cancel the execution or proceed in an attempt to use it to draw me out. There is a chance he opts for a private execution, something inside the prison cell. It’s even possible Eli is already dead. But I keep my mind from resting on those thoughts because of the sudden, crushing pressure they bring.

I’m lucky in a way. Normally, equipment in the training grounds gets locked up tight by the end of the day. My rifle was gone but my compound bow remained untouched. Maybe they never considered it as much of a danger as a gun. Or maybe they left it because the thing is so unique. So distinctly mine. And best not to upset the Commander’s sister by moving her things.

I sneak a glance over my shoulder at the town square. Already, a chopping block sits in the middle of the raised wooden platform. Men mill about as a few pairs of guards go around knocking on doors.

They are searching for something. Probably me. If they check the top of the bell tower I will have to shoot them. No, not just shoot them. Kill them. I squeeze my bow.

I picked this spot for the clean shot and simple escape route. Honestly, it should be the first place they look. Of course, that’s only if my brother knows what I’m planning. And he doesn’t. If he did, he would call off a public execution, I guarantee it.

Voices from below in the tower make my muscles tense. There are two. Booted feet on solid stone steps reverberate upward as they go around and around, stopping below the trapdoor across from my feet. A wooden ladder creaks beneath the weight of a man and the trapdoor jiggles.

My arrow is ready. My bow strung tight. I sit in the corner, silent and waiting. If the door swings up, giving me a clear shot of his head, I will release my arrow. Then I must move fast to find the second before he can shout an alarm.

The door pops open, just a little. I cannot see a face, yet. I take a breath.

“Sirs! You’re needed at the prison, right now.”

I hear a boy’s voice. Clear as day I know who it is. Fin. Bless that boy. Did he see me sneak up here? Between the darkness and my cloak hiding my face in shadow I managed to avoid detection getting here, or so I thought. But Fin knows me.

“On whose command?” A soldier asks.

“Captain Jaxon.”

The trapdoor claps shut. More muffled voices before three pairs of feet sound off back down the tower stairs. I let out a shallow breath.

Could it be Jaxon survived? Or is Fin making something up to draw them away? Probably the latter. It wouldn’t make sense for Jaxon to use Fin to deliver a message. Jaxon might still be dead. My guilt keeps coming back like stomach acid in my mouth but what can I do but swallow and keep going? The choice is made and I would do it again. I can’t let Eli die. No matter what, I must save him.

Shades of indigo and purple creep across the sky. I shift my position for a better view of the town square. More men have gathered. At least a couple hundred, and the sudden appearance of more guards tells me time is short. In the distance, Ivan leads a procession of soldiers on horseback. A dozen soldiers follow in two lines.

When I catch sight of Eli, my heart misses a beat. He keeps his head up, eye scanning the crowd. Looking for me. Did they tell him I was missing? Cold sweat trickles down my skin, tickling the back of my neck. With a deep breath, I ready my stance. It must be at least thirty-five meters, but I can make it. I must.

The men each take their places on the platform. Jaxon is missing from the lineup. Eli gets shoved to his knees in front of the wooden chopping block and my heart picks up speed. The guards keep their rifles at the ready.

“The Red King.” Ivan sweeps an arm toward Eli as he addresses the crowd. “A traitor to mankind itself.” He turns his back to Eli. “The Slaughter at Haven Day. Many of you heard the stories, but I know firsthand how many lives were claimed during that massacre. Two thousand, nine hundred, and three. What you see before you is the man responsible. If he should even be called a man.”

Despite the distance, I sense the hatred radiating from Ivan. Hear the acid in his words. I wonder if this is what Eli feared so strongly. The guilt weighing him down. The thing in his past which separated us before I entered this cursed city.

“This day we will be witness to justice for the lives lost that day. He will pay as he should have long ago.”

I ready my arrow. Everything is second nature. The stance. The strength of my grip. Aiming down my sights. But instead of an animal on the other end, I stare down at a man.

I wait until Ivan finishes his speech and takes a seat in a chair at the back. Eli still searches the crowd but when a soldier steps up and jerks his shoulder down, he relents. Easing his head forward with his neck stretched out, he surrenders.

The executioner steps up, feet spread apart as he grips the ax tight. I exhale a slow breath. As he shifts his weight to lift the ax, I aim for his chest and loose my arrow.

It whistles through the air, entering the side of the executioner’s head and sticking out the other end. His body crumples.

My heart stops beating for a moment.

His head. It went through his head.

He’s dead. I killed him. How did I manage to miss so badly?

But in the next moment, I blink away the shock and ready another, sending it into the soldier closest to Eli. As I reach for a third, shouts ring out and fingers point in my direction. I manage to get the shoulder of another when bullets explode into the brick around me. I duck out of sight, but a sudden, sharp pain in my arm gives me pause. My hand comes away red.

When the bullets stop I peek over the edge, looking for only one thing. Eli.

He is gone, lost in the crowd. With the soldiers’ guns on me, he made a run for it. I knew he would. Counted on it. But it’s not over yet, I have to get out of here.

So…my escape route is not perfect. I realize this as I climb over the backside of the bell tower, dangling over the eight-foot drop onto the roof of the connected building. But I manage to avoid breaking my ankles and scramble to the edge. Already, I hear a stampede of men climbing the stairs to the bell tower. I clamber to get off the roof before they reach the top and spot me.

If Ivan catches me, who knows what he will do. I once thought he would grant me clemency if I broke the law, but now all bets are off. I killed a man. An innocent man. Not to mention what I did to Jaxon. Would he put me to death?

My arm throbs now, but I ignore it and drop from the roof onto some hay bales near the back. Red blotches the hay beneath me and I clamp a hand over my wound. The blood might as well be a neon sign pointing my way. I rip a strip of cloth from my shirt with my teeth and try to wrap it tight enough to stop the leaking. Then I race down the narrow sidewalk, following the twists and turns until it opens up into the wide, main walkway.