Wren rubs her chest. “The raven is upset.”
I toss Wren her sheathed dagger, and she grabs it as I tug my shirt over my head and strap weapons on. “Get dressed, Birdie. We’ll go investigate.”
My stomach hasn’t been in so many knots since the night I chased my father beneath Rose Palace all those months ago. I have a very bad feeling about this, but I keep it to myself, not wanting to spook Wren in case I’m wrong. Even so, as she finishes getting dressed and slides on a pair of boots, I double-check my amulet and weapons.
Before we go, I fuse my lips to Wren’s. The kiss is far too short, but there isn’t time for anything more. My bond with Mist is thrumming anxiously as Wren and I move apart. Taking herhand in mine, pressing our bonding marks together, I unlock and open the door.
Bright sunlight assaults my senses as I step outside. I squint, acclimating to the midday light, as the raven flies towards Wren in a flurry of feathers. It lands on her shoulders a moment before a scream slices through the air.
“Gabe,” Wren says urgently, tugging on my hand.
“I heard it,” I say, taking the porch steps two at a time.
Panic leaks into her voice, and she clings to me. “The twins are in that direction. Theon and Maia, too.”
Another scream has my stomach writhing.
“I know, Wren.”
Being right has never felt so awful. My chest constricts as panic weaves through me, and not all of it is mine.
People start pouring out of buildings. Voices rise. Chaos erupts.
I draw Wren in for a punishing kiss, murmur “I love you,” and then we run.
We’re approaching the main hall, and the cabin where Wren’s sisters spent the night is beyond the trees, when I catch sight of Alaric.
The captain is standing on a tree stump with Soren on his right and a soldier I recognize from our time in the mountain on his left—Bellamy. The man barely spares us a glance, lacking the vitriol he showed me under the mountain.
A crowd is gathered before them. Most of the assembled group is armed, but there are a few who appear to be defenseless. Alaric’s face is drawn, his skin pale. When he looks up at me, his lips pinched, I know something truly awful has happened.
“There has been a breach,” the captain announces. “The net is broken.”
Furious murmurs break out around us, and my stomach plummets.
“Those housed in the northern part of the camp have been brought to the schoolhouse,” Alaric says. “There are no casualties at this time, but the situation is tenuous and unfolding.”
“Can the net be repaired?” someone asks.
Alaric’s mouth thins. “Not while the situation is still active.”
The soldier inside me translates his words without thought.
The attack is ongoing.
I’m not the only one who hears what Alaric isn’t saying. Chaos breaks out, and the crowd grows frantic.
“I thought we were safe . . .”
“ . . . the king . . .”
“I need to go; my kids are alone...”
“Esyn have mercy on us . . .”
“ . . . how did this happen?”
At some point, Alaric starts speaking over the questions. Those who can’t fight are already being pulled back from the breach. Elders, mothers, and the youngest children are being sent into the tunnels with a small guard. There is a contingent of rebels at the broken net.
