Page 86

Chapter Twenty-Four

The Order of the Iron Nail had come for her.

And that meant they were here for Ethan as well, just for being in her vicinity.

And if they came for Ethan, they would come for Petal.

Briar had no doubt that Anais was more than capable as his first mate, and the rest of the crew. But the ship belonged to Ethan. He was the Dragon. Petal needed his ruthlessness but also his reputation. More than she needed Briar.

Ethan would not agree. His dragon would not agree.

And she had mere moments to take the decision out of his hands. If he was captured—or worse, shot—because of her, she would never forgive herself. She might not even forgive Petal.

There was only one thing to be done. When the ants swarmed the peonies, you harvested the flowers before they fully bloomed. You set up protective barriers.

You gave them something else to devour.

Briar had to move fast. There were grasses and mosses and lichen, but not enough of them to send her magic to trip Ethan up. No trees to beg for help. Only those wild roses inching closer, thorns gleaming.

She moved as quickly as she could, and as silently, so as not to alert Ethan. His dragon sharpened above her head, starlight fire streaming from his nostrils. He knew something was happening. Could he see the Keepers? They were at the edge of the field near her gardens. She didn’t have much time. Any time at all.

She could try to hide, but she knew that Ethan would find her. He was an Iron Crow. He was Ethan. And she already knew they were here for her. The roses had told her, whispering, whispering, Run. She nearly choked on the warning bite of mint at the back of her throat. Her gardens shivered, leaves shaking. Bees filled the air.

Ethan was behind her. He would close the distance between them in moments. His dragon was already screeching.

Now or never.

Briar ran faster, faster. Panic clawed at her ribs. Her hip pulsed with pain. None of that mattered. She could not hide from the Keepers, so she would do the only thing that would keep Petal safe. Ethan safe.

He was going to be so furious.

The sweet summer air seared her lungs as she pushed a little faster. She stumbled over an anthill, and could not catch her balance. She slid down the rest of the swell of the field, tumbling to a stop in an undignified sprawl at the feet of the Keepers’ horses.

She looked up at them, gasping for breath. Her shopkeeper’s smile was firm. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

Ethan caught the moonlight on the daisies in Briar’s hair as she began to run.

He had pleasant enough thought of chasing her down, hearing her gasp and giggle when he caught her.

Until his dragon sent a stab of light through his chest. The silver crow claw around his neck frosted, searing into him.

Briar was in danger.

How had she managed to find danger in the handful of minutes since she had bolted, laughing over her shoulders, eyes bright, cheeks pink? The fields were full of fireflies.

Why the hell was she running away from him instead of toward him?

And then she was suddenly scooped onto the back of a Keeper’s horse and he was still too far away to stop it. And he already knew exactly what it looked like when she kidnapped herself. Little martyr.

Ethan hurled his dagger and nicked Oliver’s arm, biting through his sleeve and slicing through his skin. He recognized the bloody Keeper, if not his two companions. He had several more daggers to throw and would dearly have loved to aim for that blighter’s head, but the horses were moving and the light had faded and he could not take the chance he might accidentally hit Briar.

He was perfectly willing and able to kill them all for threatening her. Threatening his little thorn.

But not at any risk to her.

No time to go back to the ship for reinforcements. Any message he sent would be intercepted, that much he could assume. The Order was closing ranks around Briar. They must be getting desperate. And he didn’t trust a Keeper at the best of times. A desperate Keeper was a real threat.

But he was worse.