“I’m leaving now, Father. I’ll come for Saiman. You took him from me, I will take him back, and then we’ll be even and you’ll have a choice to make.”

I turned and walked off the wall. There was nothing else to say. People fled from my path. The two fighters from the wall had disappeared. A storm spun above the castle, dark clouds churning. I couldn’t have cared less.

Derek and Julie waited for me, standing still in the human chaos, as Roland’s people tried to secure the castle against the rising wind. Julie’s face was bloodless. She was holding the reins of her and my horses, trying to keep them in place as they eyed the storm with rising panic. Derek’s expression said nothing, flat and impassive. His eyes shone yellow-green. He was on the edge of violence. I marched past them, out the gates, and to the cross. They followed me. My father was still where I had left him, watching.

I looked at Derek and pointed at the cross. He moved behind it.

I pictured my father’s face in the wood, took a step, and hammered a side kick into the base of the cross. I sank all my strength and fury into it. The wood cracked. I kicked it again and again and again. The cross toppled down, with the man on it, and Derek caught it. I pulled a knife out of its sheath and sliced through the rope on the Iron Dog’s ankles and wrists. Derek pulled him off the cross and slung him over Cuddles’s back. I swung into the saddle and rode off, Derek and Julie following me.

Behind us, dark clouds boiled, hiding the sun.

CHAPTER

3

WHEN WE RODE to the meeting spot, Curran’s group had gained two new members. Barabas, his spiky hair standing straight up, was playing cards with Evelyn, one of Jim’s scouts.

Ella eyed the Iron Dog slung over my saddle. “That’s not a cookie.”

Curran saw my face. His expression hardened.

“How’s the bridge?” Barabas called out.

“There is no bridge.”

Barabas opened his mouth and closed it with a click.

“When is he coming?” Curran asked.

“I don’t know.”

Derek took the Iron Dog off the horse. Hugh’s man looked dead.

Derek slapped his face lightly. “Hey.”

The man’s eyelashes flickered.

Derek looked up. “Water?”

One of the mercenaries passed him a canteen, and Derek held the flask to the man’s mouth.

The prisoner came to life and gripped the canteen, drinking.

“Not too much,” I said, dismounting. “He’ll vomit.”

“Who is this?” Curran asked.

“Hugh’s second-in-command.”

Curran stared at me for a long second.

“What was said, exactly?” Barabas asked.