Chapters (76)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- PROLOGUE
- PART I
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- PART II
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- PART III
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- INTERLUDE
- PART IV
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- INTERLUDE
- PART V
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- PART VI
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- INTERLUDE
- PART VII
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- PART VIII
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Newsletter Sign-up
Elena’s heart stopped. Little El … she’d been one of Much’s playmates, the daughter of Amelia and Baynard. Baynard had been Lord Walter of Locksley’s chamberlain. Elena, along with the rest of their group, had long assumed he had died in the fire or afterward, despite Amelia’s belief that her husband was still alive.
Baynard shook his head numbly back and forth. “Are you new?” he asked. “Have you seen my children?”
Not like him, the fear clawed at her skull. You have to get out.
THE NEXT DAY BAYNARD was gone, replaced by a new prisoner, a massive man with beady eyes amidst a mane of hair. The now familiar darkness was traded away for a regular lantern that kept the newcomer’s cell bright. The gords treated him with respect, brought him a chair, gave him plenty of opportunities to stretch out of his cage. His name was Morg, apparently, and he was a Guardsman, apparently, who had done something wrong, apparently. She didn’t care for the stink of gord, but his presence made a change of pace for the better.
He wasn’t talkative. “You don’t speak,” he’d order when she tried to ask him a question. Sometimes he’d respond with only a violent grunt that sounded very much like his own name. Even still, this beastman’s snorting was better than nothing.
“What will you do to me if I do speak?” she asked him. “It’s not quite as threatening when you’re behind bars as well.”
“You don’t speak.”
“I guess you’re wrong about that,” she snarled. “So what did you do? Innocent, I’m sure. But I killed a sheriff. Did you do anything as bad as all that? If not, it’s not really fair for you to end up the same place I did, is it? I think that’s sort of funny. Don’t you think that’s sort of funny?”
“You don’t speak.”
“I do speak. I just did. I’m still speaking. You’re the one that doesn’t speak. Except to say, ‘You don’t speak.’ That’s sort of funny, too, isn’t it?”
He didn’t speak.
The gords that tended to her new friend were kinder to her as well. They were new. Not the same faces she’d seen in the first part of her captivity, not even the same uniform. These ones wore a fresh forest green over their tunics, which was enough to tell Elena something troubling was brewing up above.
At Sinner Mary’s, the best opportunities were in the middle of guard rotations.
This was something more than that—it was a complete changeover.
This was the opportunity. If she waited a day, an hour, even a breath to learn more, it would be gone.
The last time she had hesitated, for a solitary moment, the cost was Much’s life.