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“Mother Moon,” Megs breathed. “How?”

Akella grinned – and another leap inside Megs’s chest told her she’d missed that gap-toothed smirk more than she cared to admit.

“I hope she’s finally realized who she is,” Akella said softly, almost to herself.

Megs didn’t ask Akella what she meant. She was too busy watching Linna, who was three-quarters of the way to the top now. In another minute, she’d be within reach of the top .

Megs and Akella watched without speaking.

And then Linna was there, hauling herself over a ledge the moment the guard turned her back. Once Linna was over the wall, she disappeared.

Megs held her breath.

The guard, a faceless black cloak that swallowed the moonlight, completed her circuit and turned back, pacing towards the place where Linna had climbed over. A second dark shape suddenly rose. It could only be Linna. The two silhouettes seemed to merge, dancing together atop the wall. Megs squinted, no longer able to tell which silhouette was Linna.

One of the two dark shapes fell soundlessly. The second vanished below a line of crenellations.

Megs waited, but the second shape didn’t reemerge.

“Who won?” she asked in a choked, barely audible whisper.

Akella shook her head. Her mouth was a thin, tight line.

A minute passed, then another. Megs’s heart thundered in her chest, but this time it wasn’t due to Akella’s nearness.

“Maybe we should –” Megs started, but stopped when a head and shoulders appeared above the crenellations.

A rope dropped down from the wall. It wriggled like a snake as it fell, then swayed gently before growing still.

Akella’s grin returned. “Preyla’s tit, she did it. Let’s go.”


Tags: Eliza Andrews Fantasy