She considered calling out to the people on the porch; explaining who she was, that she’d been kidnapped, that she was innocent and this was all a giant misunderstanding. Any decent person could see she was no more than a skinny young girl. Hardly a threat.

But these folk had shown their colors already. They’d watched one of their own dragged away shouting about the Tide, something about a cult, and they’d done nothing to intervene. None had even said a word. Why would they help her? Likely they would just call on any other constables that happened to be inside, or worse, gang up on her and the Hawk and take the bounty for themselves. Judging by the dozen posters tacked on the bar’s wall, they likely knew how much she was worth. Anji ducked her head down and scratched at her chin, staring at the mare. She had to escape. Now.

Maybe I wasn’t going fast enough before, she thought, lifting her foot to finger the ever-tickling loop of maxia bound around her ankle. The tether was invisible, about the width of her thumb. At its touch, her fingers tingled, but it wasn’t unpleasant. She tried working her jagged nails under it to no avail. It was stuck tight like a second skin. But with the right force anything can be broken.

Anji untied the reins and hefted herself into the saddle, a rebellious thrill taking hold as she glanced at the tavern doors. The men on the porch disregarded her. She was alone in the street with only the muted clamor of the tavern’s interior and the gusting wind at her back. The mare knickered under her but moved not an inch.

Anji slipped her boots into the stirrups and kicked.

The mare didn’t budge.

“Come on,” Anji whispered, kicking once more. She gathered up the reins and pulled, and finally, reluctantly, the horse wheeled away from the tavern and the Hawk.

Darkness shrouded the street ahead, but Anji nudged the horse into a trot, then a canter, hooves clopping through the mud and rock. Cold air streamed past her ears, into the gap of her widening grin. Her spine twinged as the saddle bucked against her backside, thigh muscles tight and poised. She urged the mare faster with a flap of the reins and they picked up speed. Houses and broken storefronts and tiny fires blurred past as the mare gained more ground—nearly out of the stretch of buildings now, speeding away from torture and death and—

A yank at her ankle. Something in Anji’s knee popped and she was flying back, stars and rooftops wheeling overhead. She landed like a cord of wood in the middle of the street, cold mud splattering into her face. All the air in her lungs blew out at once and she gasped, blinking grit from her eyes.