Page 72 of Cursebreaker

We’re not alone in the vast, crowded stables. Soldiers patrol the rows of stalls; they block exits, preventing confused, outraged guests from leaving the ball.

Jol uses the distraction to her advantage, moving swiftly toward another carriage, then another, and we follow, heads down, steps even. I glance at Owen, wondering if I’ll see my same doubts mirrored in his eyes, but his lips are pursed, brows knit, as if he were working out a puzzle. Why would Jol take us to the stables when there’s clearly no way out?

“In here,” Jol whispers, slipping inside a stall at the far end of a row, its tall wooden gate obscuring the interior—and its inhabitant—from view.

I follow the others, my heart in my throat.

“Swiftwing!” Titus breathes, a smile transforming his face at the sight of a Pegasus—a Pegasus that bears striking resemblance to the one I saw in Leo’s portrait. He presses his forehead to the creature’s cheek. “Shh,” he whispers, soothing the agitated horse as I saw Jack do so many times. “We’re not going to hurt you. These are my friends.”

“I’m touched.” Owen claps Titus on the shoulder. He turns to Gabriel. “How skilled are you at shifting into small animals?”

Gabriel’s brows pinch, his pale cheeks mottled pink. “I can manage a raccoon.”

“That’ll do.”

Jol, peering outside, hisses, “Another patrol is coming! You have to go now!”

I whirl to face her. “You have to come, too!” I insist, but she waves me off.

“I can’t!” Her eyes glaze with tears. “My little sister works here—I’m not leaving her behind!”

“We’ll come back for—”

“No!” Jol shakes her head, backing away, her hand clutching the handle of the stable door. “If they think I’ve defected, they’ll kill her.”

“Aster!” Titus’s voice comes from above. I turn to find him already seated atop Swiftwing, his bloodred gauntlet extended.

I hesitate, but I know the longer I stay—the more I try to persuade Jol to come with us—the more likely she is to be caught helping us escape. I take Titus’s hand, climbing onto the Pegasus in front of him, and he reaches around me to grab the reins.

A raccoon and a tiny brown mouse cling to the horse’s mane. Somehow, even in their animal forms, Owen’s kind eyes still glint with mischief. Gabriel scowls.

“Go to the Leaping Lizard,” Jol says quickly. “You’ll find friends there—they can help with that,” she adds with a pointed look at the shield, fastened to the horse’s saddle.

“Thank you,” I say.

Jol opens the gate.

The Pegasus charges forward, racing toward the end of the row. Swiftwing knocks two soldiers off their feet before they can point their rifles at us and gives a great leap, massive, feathered wings beating as we launch into the sky.

The soldiers scramble to their feet. One raises his gun, his finger on the trigger, and I look over my shoulder at the moment he fires.

Titus crushes his body to mine, his chest flush against my back, barricading me as the second soldier’s bullet whizzes past us. Shouting, followed by the pop of gunfire, fades the higher we climb. Titus’s heart pounds, faster and faster, and we ascend. Still, he whispers, his lips brushing the side of my head, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’m not letting go.”

Gabriel’s furry jowls flap as Swiftwing soars through the night sky, the lights of Bale now twinkling like fireflies down below, but one of Owen’s tiny arms is stretched out at his side, his little rodent paw cutting through the night air, lost in the thrill of flight.

I shiver, clinging to the worn leather pommel as we break into the cool cover of clouds above, and a thin layer of mist kisses my face. “Do you know where we’re going?” I shout to be heard over the roar of the wind.

Titus’s warm breath caresses the shell of my ear, his voice ragged. “Yes.” He shifts his weight, just slightly as he pulls on the reins. His heart still pounds wildly in his chest, but I allow myself to relax in his arms wrapped around me, caging me in. “There,” he says, signaling for Swiftwing to descend.

My stomach flips as we dive, the city below rushing up to meet us, and I close my eyes as Titus’s arms press against me, holding me firm in my seat.

“You can open your eyes,” Titus whispers, breathless.

I peek through my eyelashes. We’ve landed on a rooftop in the outer section of the city, far from the palace glowing in the distance.

Owen and Gabriel scramble down from Swiftwing, shifting back into their human forms a few feet away. Owen stretches, but Gabriel closes his eyes, taking deep, controlled breaths as he runs his hands over his face and through his mussed dark hair.

Titus dismounts, and this time, when he holds his hand out to me, I’m reminded of the first night Will took me to the conservatory at Bludgrave Manor. I ignored his hand then, and I fell into his arms instead. Would it kill you to ask for help? Will asked me.