As I look over my shoulder, I note the trail is out of sight of my bedroom window.

“You’ve been sneaking out!” I accuse.

“Now really isn’t the time, Ziva.”

“How long have you been using this trail? Did you make it yourself?”

“Years and yes.”

“Yea—” I can’t even finish the word. “What have you been doing?”

“Do you want to raise your voice a little louder? I don’t think the warlord can hear you.”

I clamp my mouth shut, but I’m raging within. What if something happened to her? Where has she been going? And who has she been going with? I feel myself getting hysterical.

I focus on my feet and watch them as I walk. One step. Two steps. Three.

Just keep moving. Every step puts us farther away from danger. That’s all that matters right now. Temra is safe. Focus on the now.

The trail eventually opens onto the city streets. It’s just beginning to get dark, and the people are lighting the two lanterns that hang on either side of their doors. One for each Sister Goddess. For protection.

Though I haven’t bothered to light ours in years, I also haven’t taken them down. Lighting the lanterns certainly never did anything for my parents.

A stray cat peers at us from the compost bins outside the establishment Temra leads us to, which must be the tavern she mentioned. It doesn’t look like a place of great import, with the sticky-looking and fogged-over windows, but the mirth bursting through the glass would suggest those inside are having a grand time.

“Just how do you know about this place or that there’s a mercenary for hire inside?” I ask her.

Temra smiles. “His name is Kellyn Derinor. All the girls at school have been talking about him.”

“Why?”

“You’ll know when you see him.”

“And this place?”

Temra shrugs. “It’s a good place to meet men.”

“You’ve been frequenting this establishment!” I nearly shout. “Have you been drinking?”

“I’m sixteen, Ziva. Of course I’ve been drinking and having fun—while being perfectly safe.” She tries to stride inside the building.

“Oh, we are not done discussing this or your sneaking out.”

“Maybe we could save it for when we’re not trying to outrun a warlord?” she asks.

I narrow my eyes at her back as she pushes into the building. Handing Reya off to a waiting stable boy, I bark orders at him not to unsaddle her. We won’t be that long, and I don’t want him touching any of the precious cargo on her back.

I grab the sword and buckle it to my side before following after my sister.

Temra couldn’t have beaten me by more than thirty seconds into the tavern, yet she’s already seated at a table, surrounded by admirers. Three men and two women are laughing around her, and I watch as one of the men buys her a drink.

How does she do that? Temra has her own magic. A kind that draws people to her and makes it effortless for her to be around them. Jealousy blossoms within my chest, although it’s mostly covered up by the fear of being surrounded by so many people.