“Attack the weakest section and create a gap,” Loren suggested.

“Surrender,” I said. “We’re outnumbered. Besides, Sepp and Wynn are gone. Wynn and Sepp’s troops won’t kill us until the Skeleton King arrives. We’ll have a couple days to escape.”

No response.

I tried again. “If we attack, we’ll be injured or killed. We’re all together and we’re all alive. Let’s stay that way for a while. Please?”

Belen chuckled. “No one is presumed dead.”

The others looked to Kerrick. He just about swayed on his feet. “She has a point. I doubt we’ll be allowed to stay together, so if you get a chance to escape, take it and find Ryne. Don’t try to free the rest of us. Otherwise, sit tight.”

Of course, no one would leave anyone behind. And their expressions said as much.

Belen lowered me to the ground. I hugged him close. “It’s so good to see you. I missed you so much!”

He squeezed me back. “Let’s hope we survive this so we can catch up.”

I laughed at his comment—let’s live so we can chat.

“Put your weapons down and come out of the tent with your hands on your head,” a male voice ordered.

“And so it begins,” Quain said, laying his sword on the ground.

I slid my shoulder under Kerrick’s arm, helping Flea.

Kerrick kissed me. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Who, me?” I batted my eyelashes at him.

He ignored me. “No giving your word to help them if they let us go. Or anything similar to that. Promise?”

Drat. He knew me so well. I didn’t answer.

“Promise or I go out there swinging my sword,” he threatened.

I huffed. “Oh, all right.”

* * *

After we were frisked for weapons and our hands manacled—mine in front, thank the Flea—the soldiers escorted us to separate tents as Kerrick had predicted. Two armed guards remained inside with me, blocking the exit. Exhausted and famished, I sprawled on the floor until a young soldier brought me a bowl of food with a spoon.

“Sorry,” he said, dipping his head. “Major Wynn wouldn’t let us feed you before.”

“That’s okay, you’re feeding me now.” I held my hands out.

He hesitated, staring at my fingers. “Uh...”

I dropped my arms. “Just put it on the ground.”

A quick smile. The soldier placed it by his feet, then shuffled back near the guards. I pounced on the bowl, shoveling the warm gritty mash into my mouth even though the short chain hampered my range of motion. The mash tasted horrible, but my stomach didn’t care.

He waited while I ate. When I slowed, I asked him about my friends.