The nursemaid stepped back, increasing the distance between herself and Rune. “You’ll have to take that up with my mistress. She’s the child’s legal guardian.”
Rune cocked her head.Legal guardian?
It was a practice started after the revolution: taking children away from witches and giving them to non-witches to raise. Usually forever, in cases where the mothers were dead or in hiding.
Rune had burned with anger when it was first put into effect.
She burned with that same anger now.
“Our orders come from the Commander himself,” said Rune, continuing forward.
The woman backed up again, straight into the windowsill. The crib stood beside her, its cloud mobile dancing softly in the breeze.
“I-I can’t give her to you without permission.”
Rune, who knew they were running out of time, drew her gun. “That child doesn’t belong to you.”
She almost heard Gideon’s scowl. She was totally blowing their cover.
Rune didn’t care.
“Your mistress is a thief, and that child belongs with her mother.”
The servant’s eyes widened at the gun, then flicked to Gideon as he moved to Rune’s side.
“Better do as she says.” Gideon held out his hands, stepping forward to take the child, who was watching them all with fearful blue eyes, her cries getting louder. “She’s unpredictable with that thing.”
Rune threw him a glare before cocking the gun, her gaze returning to the woman.
“You have three seconds before I shoot,” said Rune.
Reluctantly, she handed Meadow to Gideon, who tucked herinside his coat soWitch’s Armorcould protect her. As he retreated behind Rune, she heard him make small shushing noises.
The moment Rune followed him into the hall, the servant screamed for help.
“Intruders!” Her voice shattered the silence. “Help! HELP!”
Rune winced.
Soon, this floor would be swarming with guards.
Instead of returning the way they came, Gideon made for the servants’ stairs. Rune followed, glancing over her shoulder before they descended.
Men in uniforms were heading straight for them.
“Go!” she said, pushing him faster.
He flew down the steps. The stairwell ended in the basement, near the kitchens—or so Rune assumed, judging by the sound of clattering pots and the smell of cooking onions.
Hoping Gideon knew where he was going, Rune ran after him, passing startled staff while guards thundered down the steps behind them. Gideon burst through a set of doors and together they stumbled into a massive dining room. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows, illuminating dozens of tables set with white tablecloths. Two servants pushing dish-laden carts halted at the sight of them.
“There,” said Rune, nodding to a door that led toward the front of the house.
But as they raced toward it, ignoring the servants, the doors ahead opened and several guards flooded in. Gideon halted. Rune turned back only to find more pursuers entering the doors they’d just come through.
Gideon and Rune looked to the windows. But even if they reached them, opened them, they’d be picked off before they climbed out. Already, bullets were flying. Whizzing past their heads.
One hit her shoulder. The force of it knocked her back a step. The bullet bounced off, leaving only a sting—and likely a bruise—where it hit.
