The last time I ate breakfast with a group around my age, they ended up dead that same night. The memory clutched at my heart with a heavy, stifling presence. I could still feel their blood on my hands as I checked each one for any sign of life. I could still see their ashen corpses as they lay dead in— I inhale sharply.

  Stop it.

  I observe the sight before me. If the same were to happen tonight—to the people sitting at this table— I would not mind.

  Serevin stands and says, “Let us go, we need to get back before dusk.”

  We stroll around the market, stopping every now and then as Elisia catches sight of items that pique her interest.

  “Fix that glare,” Serevin snaps.

  “This is the eleventh shop she’s visited. And look, what a surprise, she still hasn’t found anything to buy,” I huff and motion towards Elisia as she quickly leaves the shop for a different one.

  “I would prefer being caged in that room instead of getting dragged around by you,” I murmur, eyes straying towards the chain locked on my wrist.

  Hagen attached it after I tried stabbing Serevin’s hand with a butter knife at breakfast earlier. I glare at the guard in question as I contemplate how to get rid of him. None of the merchants bat an eye at my poor state. Despite being known as the Land of the Free People, slavery is quite common. I grimace and cover my face with a shawl.

  A wave of discomfort creeps over me as I sense an eerie presence. There lingers a watchful eye among the busy crowd. The market’s loudness becomes muted, drowned beneath suspicion. I glance over my shoulder and a hooded figure stands out.

  He stills as our eyes meet and slowly backs away. It seems Serevin and his guards have a few enemies on their tail. A stalker? An assassin? Who cares?

  I smirk at him— silent, unspoken permission between the pursuer and pursued—and turn my attention back towards the group. Perhaps something might end up happening even before night falls.

  Hagen gives me a questioning glance and looks around the crowd, as if also sensing something. But he is a second too slow as the hooded figure is nowhere in sight. He tugs at the chain and we catch up with the rest.

  By the time Elisia is done buying useless souvenirs, the sun harshly glares from above. My shirt sticks to my body and sweat lines my back. I never enjoy being grimy.

  “Are we done?” I complain.

  “Wait here,” Serevin says, completely ignoring my remark as he and Hagen enter a weathered down shack near the edge of the street. A few minutes pass by and they come out holding pieces of paper. Tickets. Probably for the ship.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “We’re done, let’s get going,” Serevin announces.

  Took them long enough.

  As we walk back to the carriage, I once again feel the watchful eyes surrounding us as they edge nearer.

  There is more than just one person now.

  I feign ignorance but Hagen catches on. A shadow appears from above and lands on his shoulder, it is the crow. His dark feathers glisten in the sun.

  “We are being tailed,” he states, one hand slowly reaching for the knife attached to his belt and the other, caressing the crow in thanks.

  The crow flies towards a shadowy street and Hagen breaks into a run, taking me by surprise.

  “My wrist,” I shout, attempting to pull him back before I trip. Hagen is unmovable and I am forced to match his speed. Everything but the crow is a blur as we sprint to follow it.

  “Did you know?” he asks between breaths and curses at my silence. We turn left towards an alley and stop as we see the crow clawing at a hooded man.

  Hagen hastily unlocks his end of the chain and whistles for the crow to stop.

  “Who are you?” he questions the man.

  I spot Serevin and the twins jogging towards us. They draw swords as their gazes move upward. Six men in dark clothing are in position at the abandoned balconies on both sides of the narrow alley. I realize how far we are from the market square. It is the perfect place for an ambush.

  Metal clashes with metal and the sound echoes around me. I slowly move away from the shadowy dead end, not wanting to get involved. But one of the men darts towards me. Likely because I am the only one without a blade. I curse and dodge as he swings his weapon.

  How dare he when I let them snoop around?

  I draw the coiled metal chain rigid between both hands and use it to block his blows while waiting for the right moment. The defensive barrier morphs into an offensive force as I strike at an opening. It wraps around his wrist and I swiftly pull to disarm my opponent. His weapon falls to my feet and I pick it up. With it now in my palm, he is defenseless as I slit his throat.

  Two more run in my direction and I draw the sword in position. But they speed past me and run for the street. I step aside and watch them go.

  The three guards chase after them and Serevin storms towards me. He grabs the chain by my wrist and pulls me until my nose is inches from his.

  “Why’d you let them go?” he angrily hisses and I feel his warm breath on my lips.

  “Your breath smells like breakfast gone bad,” I mock and Serevin shoves me away.

  “You could’ve blocked them,” he snarls.

  “I am not your dog,” I spat, throwing the sword aside. I would have used it on Serevin by now if not for the oath.

  The muscles in his jaw tighten but before he could utter a response, the three guards come running back, panting heavily.

  “They got away.”