James wasted no time. Ignoring Kyra completely, he signaled Rand. With well-practiced efficiency, Rand disentangled the body from Kyra, threw it over his shoulder, and carried it outside. James gave a few short instructions to Shea and Alex, who picked up some last bundles and scanned the area to clear any signs of their presence. Then he approached Kyra, who was still frozen near the door.

“Clean yourself off and stay out of the way.”

Within minutes they were ready to leave. As Shea pulled her out of the storehouse, she looked for the body but didn’t see it anywhere. Her mind was thick and cloudy, disconnected from the rest of her. Somewhere in the fog, there might have been thoughts screaming to be heard, but she walked in a haze. At one point, they were in front of the kennel, and James ordered her to unlock the door. Somehow, they made their way out.

James grabbed her arm outside the Guildhouse, so hard that she cried out. But the pain brought her back to her senses, and she looked up to find him staring at her.

“Wash yourself out back,” he said.

Kyra fled out the back door, casting about until she got her bearings. She saw the basin and thrust her hands in. This late at night, the water was freezing. She whimpered at the shock, but she kept her hands submerged, rubbing them underwater until she could no longer feel them. When they finally came clean, she inspected her clothing. Her outer tunic was stained and crusted with red-brown splotches. She pulled it off and threw it away in disgust.

She was shaking violently now, chilled by the cold water and wind. She crept, trembling, back into the Guildhouse. The others were still unpacking the bundles, and James stood talking to Alex in a corner. Kyra stepped toward them, then stopped. She couldn’t. Even Rand looked dangerous and frightening in the flickering lanterns. Kyra took one last look at James to make sure he wasn’t watching and bolted for the front door. Once out on the street, she ran.

Her lungs burned and she gasped for breath as she slipped through the back door of The Drunken Dog. She didn’t hear any sounds from the dining room, but there was still light coming from the kitchen. She couldn’t face Bella, not now. Kyra dashed up the back stairs, moving as quickly as she could without making noise. Only when she was in her room did she finally stop to breathe, but even as her own movement slowed, the room started spinning, and she collapsed. Her body gave way to racking sobs. She lay there, curled in a ball, hugging her legs through the convulsions.