I swallowed down the fire inside me, storing it away.

As soon as my father was gone, people spread out to fill the aisle he’d used. I let them push past me, fighting to get closer to the well.

Somewhere a guard shouted again to form a line. I scanned above the crowd. It didn’t look like any of the soldiers stationed around the well had gone with my father like Cion had hoped. I prayed he was right that his boys could take on fifteen guards. Well, hopefully less than that after I played my part.

All I had to do was get them to chase me. Cion had drawn out a map that I’d tried to memorize, of the best route that would lead them far enough away while still allowing me to circle back and meet them at the gate.

My father’s announcement had complicated that. If I went up there and announced myself hoping the guards would follow me, I’d have a mob on my hands. These people didn’t know I was working with the Desert Boys. They’d turn on me as soon as they saw me. Two hundred ration coins would change their lives forever.

My palms grew sweaty as I debated what I should do. I scanned the crowd around me. I was walled in on all sides. I couldn’t see Cion or any of the boys. Why hadn’t I thought to mention it to Dimic?

The only thing I could think to do was weave my way out of the crowd and regroup, because they’d never get any water if there was a mob fighting to turn me in.

I turned and pushed back through the mass. People were just as unwilling to part for someone attempting to leave as they were for someone trying to cut in front of them.

I squeezed between pressed bodies while fighting to keep my gaze downward. Elbows rammed into my ribs. Buckets whacked my thighs. Someone careened into my side. I bumped into a man on my left. People were starting to shove each other.

The crowd shifted. Individuals crashed into me. I stumbled into a woman on my right.

I looked up to apologize, but the words froze on my tongue as a breeze ruffled my hair. My hood was puddled around my neck. The woman’s eyes went wide. They stared directly at the golden cuff around my neck before going to the sword belted over my gladiator gear.

“It’s you,” she whispered.

“Please,” I begged, trying to back away but getting nowhere.

“It’s Princess Kateri,” she squealed. “I found her.” Her arm shot out and wrapped around mine.

I jerked out of her grip. But when I turned, a man grabbed me. I tried to run, but bodies pressed in around me. The man’s arms snaked out and coiled around my neck, pulling me into a headlock. My golden neck cuff crushed into my windpipe, cutting off my air supply.

He strong-armed me toward the soldiers.