A short distance out, I’m enveloped in a cloud of feathers as all three of my crows try to land on my shoulder. There’s quite a bit of jostling and my head gets buffeted by wings several times. Still, the crows are a welcome sight. “Good to see you too,” I say, “but I can’t have you attracting attention. Scout.”

They take off again, though Slicewing manages to shoot me a reproachful look before taking off. “I know, I’ll make it up to you,” I mutter.

I find myself counting our steps, measuring the distance to freedom. We’re a third of the way to the gardens. Halfway
there.

A bugle splits the night. Zivah tenses, and I swallow a curse. Someone’s discovered the mess at the prison.

Immediately, the barracks come to life around us. Soldiers stream out of the buildings, and I know more will follow. I catch up to Zivah. “Quick, off to the side.”

We duck into a corner shadowed by bushes. More soldiers are coming out, reporting to their commanders. Everything is chaotic at the moment, but the confusion won’t last.

“We won’t get to the gate in time, will we?” says Zivah. She’s right. The entrances into the aristocratic portions of the palace are likely already locked down.

“Probably not,” I admit. Then the wind changes, and the distinct smell of horse manure reaches my nose. It’s an intriguing thought.

Zivah must smell it too, because she turns to me. “Will they be checking the stables?”

“Yes, but we might be able to get there first. You in?”

She pauses a moment, then gives a deliberate nod.

The stables have already started to stir by the time we get there. A stablehand stands in front of the door, scanning in all directions. I hear horses stomping inside. I walk straight up to the door, doing my best to exude authority.

“What are you doing out here?” I snap. “Get back in. Someone might be after the horses.”

The boy stumbles, his mouth falling open, and he rushes back through the barn door. I’m right on his heels, and as soon as we’re inside, I whack him over the head with the hilt of my dagger. The poor fellow slumps to the ground.

“What’s going on out there?” a voice calls from the back.

I suppose it was too much to hope that a clueless stable boy would be the only person sleeping here at night. “Just making sure the stables are secure,” I call. “A prisoner’s escaped.”

A man steps into view on the other side of the barn. He looks suspicious…and very muscular.

“Where’s the boy?” he asks.

“The boy?” I need to work on my innocent face.

He puts up a hand. “Stay right there,” he says. “No one’s allowed in here.”