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its contents creating a ruckus as they fell to the floor.

A loud thud sounded from behind and chunks of wood blasted across the room. Lyra turned to find a man’s face poking through the hole in the door.

“There they are!”

Lyra quickly scaled up the shelves. At the top, she drew a dagger and began working at the window casing. After a moment, she was able to pry it open, swinging it upward on its hinges as she sheathed the blade.

She turned toward Tiri, who stood below, watching the door as the axe hit it again to widen the hole.

“Tiri! Climb through the window. Now!”

Tiri climbed up the shelves, past Lyra and pushed her head through the opening.

“There’s a shrub below us. I don’t want to land in it.” Tiri complained.

“If we stay, we’re dead! Move!”

Tiri slid forward, grunting to squeeze her chest through the opening. With the girl’s lower body still in the storage room, Lyra gave her a shove and launched Tiri out the window. A scream and a grunt followed.

Another smash of the axe and the door opened wide. Lyra looked back as her head reached the window and found a guard with a gleaming sword in his hand, climbing over the crate.

Driven by urgency, she pushed through the opening, clinging to the windowsill with one hand as she pulled one leg out and the other.

“They went through the window!” A guard shouted.

Lyra let go and fell into the shrub, scraping her legs on the branches as she landed. She fell backward into the dirt path and found herself beside Tiri, who lay on her side, attempting to catch her breath.

Scrambling to her feet, Lyra pulled Tiri up as the girl gasped for air. She looked around and realized that they were in the garden. After years of spending time there, Lyra knew the garden well…and knew she had only one option.

With Tiri’s hand firmly in her grip, Lyra pulled her sister down the path, through the fruit trees, past the colorful flowers that encircled the massive tree, and toward the wall at the east end.

“What are you doing?” Tiri gasped. “The way out is that way.”

“We can’t go that way. If we do, they’ll be there and we’ll be dead.” Lyra didn’t pause when she reached the wall, quickly scaling it until she stood on the top. Far below, ocean waves flowed through the narrow inlet that ran up to the castle, crashing over dark rocks to slam against the base of the wall in a white spray of foam.

Lyra turned to look behind her, finding Tiri standing below.

“We have to jump.”

Tiri’s face turned pale. “But…it must be a hundred-foot drop.”

“Keep your legs together, arms in, and land feet-first.” Lyra stared down at the water, mentally preparing herself. “Now, get up here before they kill us.”

Tiri climbed up on the wall, wincing as the jagged edges of the eroded bricks cut her palms. Lyra grabbed her sister’s hand, helped her to her feet, and looked her in the eye.

“Trust me. You can do this.” Lyra surprised herself with the confidence in her voice, despite her own fears. “Just be sure to leap outward so you don’t hit the wall on the way down.”

Tiri nodded.

“At the count of three.” Lyra took a breath.

Shouts sounded behind them.

“One.”

“They’re on the wall!”

“Two”

“Archers, fire!”

“Three!”

They jumped.

Lyra’s breath caught in her throat in a moment of raw terror. She and Tiri plummeted past the walls, past the natural cliff face as two arrows sailed over their heads. Waves crashed into rocks below, the angry ocean swirling and roiling, growing ever closer…until it swallowed them.

30

“Shh” Lyra hushed Tiri. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Tiri nodded, the motion barely visible beneath the shadow of the trees.

A pang of jealousy struck Lyra at the way Tiri could appear beautiful despite the torn rags she wore, despite her snarled and twisted hair. Lyra turned toward the farm and examined the buildings in the failing light. A man appeared with a pitchfork full of hay, which he tossed into the pen that held his oxen. The moment he returned to the barn, she darted across the yard, and put her back against the house.

“Earl!” A woman’s voice called from the house. “Time for dinner!”

“I hear you, woman!” the man in the barn shouted. “I’ll be there in a minute!”

A sense of relief arose. With the homeowner focused on eating, Lyra’s job would be easier.

The man strolled out of the barn and wiped his brow as he crossed the yard. Hearing the door to the house slam shut, Lyra ran to the clothesline strung between the two buildings.

Moving quickly, she pulled the trousers, shirt, and dress from the line, pausing briefly before grabbing the blanket hanging there as well. With her prizes clutched to her body, Lyra ran toward the woods where Tiri waited.

“Take this.” Lyra handed the pile to Tiri before running back toward the barn.

She circled the far side of the building, opposite from the farmhouse. When she reached the door, she eased it open and slid inside. Fumbling in the darkness, she found the man’s plow and felt the leather strap of the man’s water flask hanging from the handle. After sliding the flask over a shoulder, she began digging through the crates and sacks on the shelf.

With an arm full of vegetables, Lyra eased the barn door open and noticed the man’s hat hanging from a nail on the back of the door. Inspiration struck and she grabbed the hat before slipping out and creeping around the barn. When she reached Tiri, the girl frowned.

“Why’d you steal that poor man’s hat?”

“They’ll be looking for two girls. I plan for them to see us as a farmer and his wife, making a trip to the city.”

Tiri’s frown deepened. “You want me to pretend to be a man?”

Lyra grunted. “Nobody would believe that.” She slipped the hat on her head. “I’ll dress like a man and you’ll be my wife. I’ve pretended to be a boy before, and I can do it again.”

She opened the water flask and took a drink, not caring that the water was warm. With her thirst quenched, she handed the skin to Tiri and began to dress.

Leaves rustled in the wind. A murwing hooted from a nearby tree, the sound echoing in the night. The two girls huddled together with a blanket wrapped around them. Lyra rested her head against the tree behind her, while Tiri’s head leaned on her shoulder.

“I’m cold.” Tiri whispered.

“We’ll need to get a flint. Without it, we can’t have a fire.”

“I want to go home, Lyra.”

“You know we can’t. Perhaps ever,” Lyra sighed. “You’re a threat to Donte, and he knows it…Berrilon knows it.”

“Father’s dead. I can’t believe he’s gone.” Tiri began to cry. “What are we going to do? Where do we go?”

Memories of Lyra’s flight from Vingarri surfaced, although it seemed a lifetime ago. Her journey then had somehow led her to Cal. Helping Cal had resulted in her moving into the palace, living as a princess. Now, that life had been crushed, again leaving Lyra homeless and on the run, back where she started.

Tiri nestled against her, sobbing. Lyra hugged her sister, realizing that this time was different. She wasn’t alone.

“We have to get out of Kalimar, beyond Donte’s reach. We’ll head north,” Lyra whispered, hoping she sounded confident. “Once beyond Kalimar’s border, we’ll figure out our next step.” Lyra thought about Rainer. “I need to tell you something about Rainer.”

Tiri continued to sob, showing no response.

“When I was fifteen, he and another man broke into my house and…they killed my father.”

Tiri sat up, looking at Lyra. “What?”

Lyra nodded. “Rainer had bribed my father to betray Queen Iglesia, but when my father changed his mind and refused to do it, they killed him.”

Tiri stared at Lyra for a long moment. “And now you’ve lost another father…I’m so sorry.” Her sobbing returned.

Lyra thought as Tiri leaned against her. “Have you heard of an

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