Something vile churned in Anji’s gut. A buzzing filled her ears at the thought of the Sun Wardens, led by these two, pouring into the laundresses’ quarters while the castle bells rang overhead, the confusion and terror her friends must have woken to. The minutes she’d had between murder and escape had swirled like a dream, led purely by an immediate need to flee, with no thought spared of what consequences Kaia and Libby and the others might face. Innocent all. She glanced up at the Goat, who leaned forward.

“Didn’t consider them when you ran, did you?” he said, sniggering. “That blond friend of yours, Kira, was it?”

The world veered on its axis. Anji gripped at the grass. Pictured Kaia tied to a chair, screaming in a dark room while the Goat loomed over her with that long knife of his, his wretched stench the last thing Kaia would smell.

“Kaia,” she said, pushing the name out like molten iron.

“That’s enough,” said the Ox.

But the Goat was obviously enjoying this, basking in Anji’s mounting rage. “Names,” he said, shrugging. “I only remember the sounds of their screams.”

“I don’t believe you,” Anji said, her eyes brimming with tears. The Ox’s arms uncrossed.

The Goat snickered. “They didn’t last long, if it makes you feel better. Their bodies will be hanging from the castle walls by now.” He clicked his tongue, his mask wagging side to side. “Aiding and abetting regicide. Such a shame.”

The pale sunlight seemed too bright then, the world too wide, pressing down on Anji’s shoulders. She wanted to scream, to cry and run and die right there on the spot. She swallowed back a mouthful of bile, unwilling to show weakness in front of these two monsters, but the tears flowed anyway, first a trickle, then pouring from her like blood from a gaping wound.

All thought for her own skin left her then, and she sprang forward with a snarl, nearly blind with anger and tears and the heavy terror of knowing it was all her fault, that she’d never see her friends again. She’d barely gotten to one foot, however, when a hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her back to the ground spitting and screaming.

“Stop!” shouted the Ox, but whether she’d meant it for the Goat or Anji was unclear. Anji twisted in the dirt, flinging dust and grit into the flames. The Goat chuckled, which sent a fresh wave of white-hot, strangled rage coursing through her.

“You old fuck!” she bellowed, her throat aching with the force. “You didn’t have to—”

“Little bitch has some fight in her,” said the Goat around another laugh.