I stepped out and securely shut the door behind me. Then I galloped down the stairs. Soldiers occupied every chair. There’s Percy, chatting with an older soldier. I couldn’t talk here; too many people. I walked as fast as I could to Percy, grabbed him, ran for the door, and blasted through.

“This whole dragging me away thing has got to stop,” he complained. “Not cool, man. What’s going on, anyway? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“No, I’m not okay. The Wellers did live above the cooper, but they had all girls! He’s lying! I bet there isn't even a town called Freyish. He said he had an ear for accents - maybe that means he’s good at mimicking them! Why is he pretending to be a Freylandian? Does the king want to whack all the disloyal Freylandian refugees?! Or maybe the Triumdemic wants to recruit them! I bet Jack was there on purpose to sabotage me! Maybe he’s a trained assassin, here to whack me in my sleep! I -”

“Callum, calm down,” Percy interrupted. “Maybe he’s the Weller girl’s cousin. Or maybe he only lived there for a little while. I highly doubt that the king or the Triumdemic want anything much to do with Freylandians anymore. Calm down. Did they put something in your soup or what?”

“I dunno, but I don’t think that I want to sleep in the same room as him.”

“Nothing will happen to you,” Percy tried to reassure me. “I’m your bodyguard, remember? They’ll whack you over my dead body.”

“That’s not a very comforting though. Just look at you.” I told him. “Regardless, I am not sleeping in the same room as Jack Weller.”

“Oh, come on. Just because I’m not ripped doesn’t mean I can’t fight. Besides, there’s no other place to sleep. The general of the whole army allowed us to have bunks in that room.”

“Look who’s coming now,” I said quietly. “Prince Cole. I bet it’s time to leave. Again.”

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Percy turned around and bowed as the prince came closer. He held a bright lantern in one hand. The lantern’s light joined the measly yellow circle that Percy’s candle created. When he walked closer, we could see a rolled piece of paper in his other hand. “Bloomfield! Private! I’m lucky to find you two out here. This hotel is crawling with soldiers.”

“Yes, sir,” Percy replied. The prince glanced at him, then looked at me as if to say, What’s going on in this kid’s head?

“General Morley asked me to inform you of his message,” the prince said. He handed me the paper. A wax seal held tight the piece of string that bound the scroll. “He wants you to memorize it, then destroy it. A train is leaving right now for Egron City. I’m sure they can make room for you two. Go quickly now, and we hope to see you back soon.” He half-saluted to me with two fingers and walked away, toward the courthouse.

“We have to go!” Percy said. His candle blew out as we started to run. I memorized the message as we traveled. I almost tripped a few times. Fortunately, the hotel was strategically built only a couple blocks from the train station. A hiss of steam filled the platform, and the wheels started to turn. We ran as fast as we could toward the doors, which started to close.

I pulled myself up with the handle and squeezed through the folding door. Percy sprinted alongside as the train gained speed. The look of fear in his eyes overwhelmed me. I forced open the door and reached my hand out as he started to fall behind. He stretched his arm out and grabbed my wrist. With strength I didn’t know I had, I yanked him up into the train compartment. He stumbled and landed on his feet. His forehead slick with sweat, he thanked me.

I scuffed my toe. “It’s what anyone would have done.”

A nearby convalescent applauded. I blushed and studied my boots like they were the most interesting things in the world.

“Callum, where’s the paper?” Percy asked quietly after we found seats. I forgot my embarrassment. I dug in each of my pockets; a cold sweat broke out on my back.

“It’s gone,” I told him.

“Did you memorize it? That’s all that matters, right?”

“That is highly classified information. I’m not even allowed to tell you what it said. Imagine who’ll find it! The king will have my head!” I buried my head in my hands.

“It’ll be alright,” Percy said. “Maybe it got shredded under the train tracks.”

“I don’t think so,” I told him, my voice muffled under my palms. “But we can hope.”