28. Thyra
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Thyra
We run in silence across the dunes, our silks catching in the wind.
As the daylight fades into dusk, I take peace from the crunch of sand beneath my feet and the memories of all the times my father walked alongside me beside the crashing waves.
The women seem to know exactly where we’re headed, running due west before turning northward.
That’s when I make out a dark channel lying ahead, an oppressive wall of darkness stretching from as far north as I can see and all the way south into the Ember Kingdom.
I’m about to gasp out a question when a rushing sound reaches my ears.
My focus snaps to what appears to be a dust storm rapidly approaching on our left.
Within the dust, at least fifteen golden serpents and their riders fly low across the dunes, their fierce speed kicking up sand around them.
My sharp eyesight allows me to see clearly in the fading light, identifying the crest they’re flying as an insignia worn by one of the guards outside the compound. These serpents must belong to one of the Houses in the Ember Court.
“Miriam,” I whisper urgently, certain I’m the only one who has noticed them, given how far away they still are. “To our left.”
She said we can’t allow ourselves to be spotted and these riders are flying directly toward us.
“Oh, no.” She jolts beside me but doesn’t lose her stride. “That looks like Lord Boaz’s crest. Of all the men who could come upon us.”
Charis’s voice is strained. “What is he doing out here? He’s coming from the south. He has no business there.”
“I don’t know,” Miriam replies, puffing through her speech. “But we aren’t going to make it.”
The first billows of disturbed sand reach us, the sharp granules cutting across the air around us. My armor protects most of my body, but not so for Miriam and the Mothers.
“We can’t lead him into the darkness.” Miriam takes furtive glances at the approaching serpents, the tension around her eyes increasing. “He can’t know what’s in there.”
“Run north,” Charis cries to the Mothers. “Turn away from the channel. Head for the mountains at the border.”
The women immediately respond, veering sharply right, sweeping me along with them, but it’s only a minute before the dust hits our backs, signaling the arrival of the serpents.
Still, the women keep running, and from this angle, it’s impossible for me to identify any of the men soaring up from behind us.
Miriam whispers urgently to me. “Remember, do not speak. Do not act! No matter what Lord Boaz does or how forcefully he questions us. The Mothers must not utter a word. On penalty of death. You must behave as they behave. Thyra, do not act.”
The air churns wildly at our backs, my ears filling with the rush of approaching beasts.
Four golden serpents tear low over our heads before circling back and converging on either side of us. Three more follow them, landing in front of us, forcing us to a complete stop.
The other serpents and their riders stay in the air, circling above us, as if they think we might try to escape skyward somehow.
Within seconds, we’re surrounded.
The seven riders who landed are all dressed in leather armor and wearing hoods, along with masks that cover the lower halves of their faces, concealing their identities.
They quickly dismount, only one of them pulling off his mask and striding toward us. He appears older than Stellen and has a broad forehead and a hooked nose.
Lord Boaz, no doubt.
His lips twist as he shouts, “Where is your escort?”
All of the women are silent, fixated on the ground, and I can’t help but notice how, when they stopped running, they ensured they were three deep on all sides of me, keeping me as far from these men as they can.
I remain as still as they do, hunching a little beneath the silks they wrapped around me, keeping my head down, carefully watching from beneath the edge of my scarf.
“Where is your escort?” Lord Boaz roars again, grabbing the nearest woman and shoving her to the ground.
She falls in a flurry of silks but doesn’t make a sound, staying where she fell, her face turned away from him.
My blood boils. It takes all of my determination to remain still. Eyes down.
Lord Boaz grabs another woman, this time wrapping his hand around her head, tearing off her scarf as he shoves her to the ground, where she lands, her face also turned away.
He raises his fist, a clump of her hair caught in his fingers.
Ouch. She didn’t make a sound. Not even a whimper.
“You will answer me.” He snarls. “Or I will have each of you beaten.”
Miriam’s hand finds mine. A warning squeeze.
But it isn’t enough.
I’m fighting every instinct in my body that screams at me to rip this man’s head from his shoulders and let his blood seep into the sand…
Breathe out.
A smile grows on Lord Boaz’s face as he carefully picks the Mother’s hair from his hand. “Perhaps I will strip you and beat you myself. Right here on the sand.”
He points at the woman standing to my farthest right before gesturing to one of his men. “Bring that one. Let’s see how long she defies me.”
As he speaks, he flicks his hand and a line of fire flows from his fist, a lash of flames forming. He whips the lash across the air before it vanishes. And then he makes another one. Belts of fire that will cut across her skin.
My right hand is suddenly burning, a heat feeding on my rage. A darkness, as solid as the channel we were running toward, creeping into my mind.
Oh, breathe out. Breathe out!
But my muscles are tensing and my armor is rippling against my skin and I won’t stand by while a woman is hurt.