“Mira, Dear Heart, we must go.”

“He’s breathing. He must have only been knocked unconscious. We have to get him to the palace! The physicians can—”

“Mira, we must go now.”

She felt herself being dragged away and resisted, tears clouding her eyes. Cael lay crumpled at the bottom of the pillar, hardly moving except for the barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest. Blood matted his golden hair.

“No, no!” she cried. “I can’t leave him! I won’t—”

Her father hauled her to her feet and held her tightly by the shoulders. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Dear Heart, we are in terrible danger. King Garazor is dead.”

Mira blinked at him, uncomprehending. “Dead?”

“The Alerians will blame us,” Lord Escallon said. “We need to leave, before any retaliation can be made. There is a carriage outside.”

Mira allowed herself to be led a few tottering steps away, her mind a fog.

“Wait,” she whispered, and turned to look back to where Cael lay. “I can’t leave him.”

“You must,” her father hissed. “Quickly, now. Before they notice.”

He dragged her away, and her heart, already bleeding, broke anew.

----------------------------------------

The Citadel was a mass of chaos—overturned chairs, broken glass, and upended candelabras littered the ground. The dead and dying lay all around. People still pushed for the exits, unaware that the danger had passed. Cries and screams echoed around the curved walls.

Mira’s father threw his cloak over her and kept a firm arm around her shoulders as they walked. Her eyes were fixed on the skirts of her wedding dress. There were stains of dark blood there. Cael’s blood.

She tried to understand what had happened, the creature that had attacked, but her thoughts ran slowly, as though they hid behind a dam. King Garazor, dead? And Cael injured; how badly, she could only imagine. Would he live? Tears welled in her eyes again. Would she ever see him again?

In her mind’s eye, she saw the huge, empty white eyes, the flashing talons of the beast. Beneath her father’s arm, she shuddered. She saw Cael flying through the air, heard the crack as he hit the pillar. And then, what had happened next?

It came sharply to her mind. Rhoden, standing before the creature, speaking words she had not understood. And it had obeyed him.

The implication sunk deep within her. She clutched at her father’s coat.

“He spoke to it,” she whispered. “Prince Rhoden.”

“I know. I heard.”

“Do you think—could he have—”

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“I don’t know,” her father said, his jaw a hard line. “I just don’t know, Dear Heart.”

They pushed themselves through the crowd, finally exiting the Citadel into the cool night beyond. Outside was an equally distressing scene. People ran in every direction, looking for shelter. Women clutched their children to their chests, and several bodies lay in the cobblestoned square, surrounded by mourners. Screams and shouts filled the night air.

“The King is dead!”

“Prince Caellamar, too!”

He’s not dead! Mira wanted to yell. He was breathing! He—he can’t be—

Her father steered her to the right, where they skirted the edge of the Citadel and began walking around the perimeter of the large square before it, keeping to the shadows. Long lines of carriages waited to take the nobility back to the palace. The horses danced uneasily. Some lords and ladies had taken refuge in the carriages, either staring out with frightened faces or demanding the drivers to depart. In the middle of the square, Mira could see hundreds of torches and lanterns held aloft. Dark shapes moved in the night.

“The Mesians are to blame!” someone in the crowd shouted. “Faithless traitors!”

A group of dark-robed Thalist priests were attempting to take control of one of the waiting carriages. Someone in the crowd spotted them. Mira gasped as the crowd surged forward and grabbed the priests, dragging them, screaming, into the midst.

“Death to the Mesians!” came the cry, and the mob roared.

“Keep your head down!” her father whispered. Mira drew the hood of the cloak more tightly over her head. She prayed to God, to Renthalas, to anyone who would listen, that no one would see her voluminous white skirts that her father’s cloak only barely covered.

“This way.”

Mira and her father ran down a street, then turned into an alleyway. A dark carriage waited at the end, the driver’s seat empty. When Mira opened the door, it was to find the terrified faces of King Sebastt, her mother, sisters, and a couple of Thalist priests.

“Otus!” Lady Escallon whimpered. “Oh, thank God.”

“The Alerians will pay for this!” King Sebastt hissed.

“The Alerians are not to blame,” Mira’s father said quietly. “Quickly, Mira—”

“Otus! Where is Biani?”

Mira froze with her foot on the step. She looked at her father, whose face was pale in the darkness.

“I thought she was with you,” he said.

Lady Escallon’s face was stricken. “My God!” she cried. “She must still be inside!”

Knives like ice shards forced their way into Mira’s heart. Her youngest sister was barely eight years old. She looked back in the direction of the Citadel. Over the rooftops, the dome glowed orange in the night.

“I’ll go back,” said Lord Escallon. “She’s a smart girl. She’s probably just hiding.”

“I’m coming with you,” said Mira, lowering her foot to the ground.

“Absolutely not,” her mother snapped. “Get in the carriage, Mira.”

Mira stepped away from the open door.

Her father frowned at her. “It’s too dangerous.”

“There is a mob,” Mira reminded him. “We are all in danger as long as we are in Torran. I’m coming. We’ll be faster if there are two of us.”

“What if you are caught?” Lady Escallon whispered.

King Sebastt stirred. “I’ll not risk my life for that of one of your daughters, Escallon. Get us out of here.”

Mira glared at him, furious at his disregard. Her father straightened his shoulders.

“You,” he said, pointing to one of the Thalist priests. “Drive the carriage to the bottom of the town. Find a place to hide, and wait for us a quarter of an hour.” He looked at Mira, his shadowed face serious. “If we do not return in that time, leave without us.”

Mira’s mother and sisters protested as he shut the door and Mira tried not to hear them. They would be reunited. But it was imperative they found Biani first. The Thalist priest climbed into the driver’s seat, whipped the reigns, and the carriage trundled into the dark.

With a shared look, Mira and her father headed back towards the Citadel.