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“I don’t know,” the man responded before hurrying to meet a soldier that had parted the crowd and spotted him.

I released the illusion and dropped Rivven’s hand. Torvo’s expression morphed from concern to surprise as he took in the sight of us. Then he pulled me into his chest, surrounding me with the warmth of his strong arms.

“We have to go now,” I said, squeezing back. “Father’s about to come after us.”

Torvo shifted me behind him as he drew his weapon with a loud scrape of metal against leather. I peered around his side to find Rufus advancing on Rivven, who had no sword of his own.

But Nyah’s lover raised a finger and beckoned Rufus closer, nonetheless.

The brutish guard lunged at him with an enormous, curved blade. Rivven sidestepped easily, bringing up an arm to intercept mid-strike. He knocked the sword from Rufus’ hand and caught it easily, transferring it to his other fist.

“Thank you for returning this,” he said then used the hilt to jab Rufus in the nose, sending blood spurting out.

I screamed, as did several other people in the crowd. The world turned to sheer chaos, with uniformed guards shoving and hitting people in an attempt to get through, while Rivven continued to beat Rufus to the ground.

Finally, he stood, setting the tip of his sword to the throat of the man below him.

“I owe you a slow death, but I don’t have time for it,” Rivven stated.

A shadow floated down from above, calling my attention to the top of the stairs where my father appeared, bruised, with dried blood covering his face. Was it his or Rivven’s mother’s? Did it matter?

Our gazes met, and something cold slithered down my spine as I clutched Torvo’s arm.

“Father’s here. We have to go. Now.”

Torvo followed my stare and nodded.

“Rivven,” he bellowed, his deep, tenebrous voice reaching through the melee.

With a disgusted look, Rivven aimed one last kick, then he turned and fled with us toward the drawbridge, which Father had lowered for the guests’ arrival.

I could feel him behind us, tracking our movements. I had to do something, or we’d never make it.

But we had to make it.

I deserved a life with Torvo, free from my father’s tyranny.

Recalling the vision of the black dragon he had marked for death in the first trial of the Imrati, I focused on the sky above, and in a heartbeat, the moons overhead were blotted out by the outstretched wings of a replica, twice the size of the original. The illusion bellowed a roar, and the ground beneath us shook violently, nearly toppling me over. I gasped, not having intended that as part of my illusion. But there was no time to puzzle that out, because when the roar died down, screams from all around rose in response.

Chaos erupted. I grasped a hand of each man and rushed over the drawbridge. As I went, I cast a second illusion, making it appear as if the bridge flung itself upward, sending us into the poisonous, eel-infested moat and closing off the only escape from the beast I’d conjured in the sky.

Shrieks and shouts filled the night as we ran onward, not looking back. Finally, the weight of my father’s gaze lifted from the back of my neck as we rushed toward the village between the castle and the citadel. The looming tower was the final hurdle standing in the way of our escape.

“I wish we could fly like Galan,” Rivven choked out, clutching his side. The sweat on his brow and the ruddy tint to his face showed exactly how weak he’d grown in the dungeons. My heart clenched. Nye cared for this man, and I was just beginning to understand what that meant.

“We can,” Torvo answered as he too ground to halt.

“You can’t carry us all,” Rivven argued, and I swung my head between the two men as they spoke.

“I don’t have to. I had a surprise brought in for my new wife.”

Torvo smiled down at me as he whistled. Nothing seemed to happen for a moment and then a whooshing sound filled the sky. I looked up past where my illusion rained amber flame down over the castle to find the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. And it was real.

A black mare, coat shining with the reflection of the lights from the village, swooped down, raven wings held aloft like two soft clouds on either side, and a golden twisted horn on its head that gave off its own illumination.

The magnificent beast landed beside me, closer than I’d ever been to such an animal. It was large and muscular, but graceful as it folded its wings and huffed gently. Torvo stroked its muzzle.

“Ash. Thank you for coming, friend.”