Page 19 of The Seeker

“Yes—oh, that’s what else I’ve been wanting to tell you.” She jumped up then, crossing the room to a pile of parchments. “Otho’s been writing me.”

A rock settled in my stomach at her words. “Just you?” I tried not to make my voice sound desperate, but it didn’t work as I’d hoped.

She smiled sadly, holding up the letters. “Sorry, Runa, but they’re in a secret script. You wouldn’t be able to read them anyway.”

I nodded, trying to deal with the emotions rolling beneath my skin. It made sense that Otho would write his sister, and that they would have a secret way to communicate. But something still felt off about the situation, and it was making a cold sweat bead down my back.

“I-I’ll help. Whatever you need.” The words were shaky and lacked the confidence I knew I would need to actually do as I was promising, but I needed to get out of here, and fast.

“I’m counting on it, Runa.” Friar didn’t seem to notice my plight as she returned to her pot, and I made my way to the door. “I’ll send word as soon as we settle on more of the details.”

I nodded, pulling the door closed behind me.

Out in the hall, I leaned my forehead against the stone wall, trying to catch my breath.

It was then that it hit me.

Stronghold.

It was such a military word. One I hadn’t heard used even during my time under Otho in the military.

When had Friar started using words like stronghold?

CHAPTER 7

“Runa”

My eyes snapped open, a groan emerging from my lips as I recognized the trees above my head.

I twisted my neck, unsurprised to find Otho lying on the ground beside me. His hair was disheveled, his eyes dark with an emotion I couldn’t describe.

“What’s going on?” My head was pounding, and something about this felt off—even more off than it had the last time I’d found myself in the in-between world where I could speak with Otho.

“You need to wake up.”

“Huh?” I tried to shake my head, to clear the fuzziness.

Then Otho was on top of me. “Runa, WAKE UP!”

I awoke with a gasp, only to find I was unable to breathe.

Someone was holding something over my mouth.

My heart was pounding as I fought to clear my mind of sleep. Where was I?

My hand drifted to the side, recognizing the feel of the sheets in Leif and my bed.

I was in my room . . . but where was Leif?

I fought to work my jaw, but whoever was on top of me was exerting enough force on the other side of the cloth to prevent me from even moving my lips.

“Be quiet. Come with us, and no one gets hurt.”

My eyebrows scrunched. I didn’t recognize the voice. But was this Friar’s plan?

Something prickled at my skin—my body trying to tell me that Friar would never choose to save me like this.

Still, I didn’t resist as a second person lifted me into a sitting position, yanking my arms behind my back. It was dark in my room, the fire in the hearth long burned out. The man holding the cloth to my mouth shoved it inside, effectively gagging me. It was impossible to distinguish the people who were currently taking me captive, but they appeared to be male, based on how broad their shadows were, and they all had long hair tied at the nape of their necks.