death.
Even worse, any of the dragons looking up could see her. She would be exposed the moment she started to cross. Swallowing back the sour taste of fear, Keltie estimated that the amphitheater was as wide as a long city block. That was a lot of real estate to cross unseen. Her hand grew slippery around the leather-wrapped handle of the ax.
And then the roaring abruptly stopped. Keltie nearly jumped at the sudden quiet. The moment stretched painfully, not a rustle coming from the crowd below. Curiosity made her take a step forward, just enough to get a better look at what was going on. From the protection of the shadows, she had a good view of the far end of the space. A ledge of stone formed a kind of stage there, and a group of veiled women in white were climbing the steps at either end of the platform. In their midst was a veiled figure in green who strode to the center position. The moment they saw her, the assembly fell to their knees. The queen .
The women in white began speaking, but Keltie didn’t understand a word of it. The rise and fall of the words was reminiscent of ceremonial speeches everywhere, but the dragons seemed to find this one riveting. That meant every pair of eyeballs was pointed toward the stage. With a hard gulp, Keltie began stealing across the wide expanse of the theater, praying no one got bored.
When Keltie was about halfway across, the queen stepped forward and said something in a commanding tone. A collective cry went up, followed by a murmur of excitement. Her Majesty spoke some more, and the crowd got even louder. Whatever the queen had said, it made everyone head for the tiers of hewn stone seats surrounding the open space in the middle. Everyone but the bare-chested Flameborn standing at the front near the stage.
Despite her curiosity, Keltie kept going, moving as fast as she dared.
“Rand!” the queen said, pointing down at a tall, blond-haired man who looked like he could crush cannonballs between his thumb and forefinger. He bowed deeply and stepped forward. “Larkan!”
Keltie paused mid-step. She couldn’t help it. At the sound of his name, she searched the scene below. Larkan hadn’t been at the front of the audience, but a third of the way back. She could see him from behind now. He stood now like a rock in the receding ocean of people, his shoulders squared and set. I’m leaving him behind. That was the plan they both had decided on, but suddenly every cell of her body cried out in protest.
Larkan bowed to the queen, his movements stiff. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t on board with it.
Keltie abandoned stealth and ran ahead. She had to get out of sight and she needed a better view of what was about to happen. When she reached the far side of the theater, she crouched behind a rising crest of rock and heaved a sigh of relief. She’d made it across the gallery without being seen.
Her escape was almost complete. To her left, the path led straight to the exit that would take her to freedom. But to her right, a stairway led to the theater below. Both options pulled at her, equally painful and insistent. Catching her lip between her teeth, Keltie grabbed the gritty edge of the stone and peered down at the scene below.
Larkan and the enormous guard named Rand paced toward each other. When they were about a dozen feet apart, they stopped. In an instant, their postures changed—feet braced, shoulders bunched. A moment before she might have believed them friends, but all of a sudden she knew they were about to fight. No! Fear for Larkan flooded her. Rand’s expression said that, unlike Larkan, he wanted this battle. And hadn’t he been the huge dragon that had chased them up the mountain?
The memory of Larkan’s body—rising heat and smooth, hard muscle—rose strong enough to make Keltie dizzy. She gripped the rock, telling herself to run for freedom. That’s what Larkan had told her to do. That’s what she needed to do if she valued her own safety. But she
Even worse, any of the dragons looking up could see her. She would be exposed the moment she started to cross. Swallowing back the sour taste of fear, Keltie estimated that the amphitheater was as wide as a long city block. That was a lot of real estate to cross unseen. Her hand grew slippery around the leather-wrapped handle of the ax.
And then the roaring abruptly stopped. Keltie nearly jumped at the sudden quiet. The moment stretched painfully, not a rustle coming from the crowd below. Curiosity made her take a step forward, just enough to get a better look at what was going on. From the protection of the shadows, she had a good view of the far end of the space. A ledge of stone formed a kind of stage there, and a group of veiled women in white were climbing the steps at either end of the platform. In their midst was a veiled figure in green who strode to the center position. The moment they saw her, the assembly fell to their knees. The queen .
The women in white began speaking, but Keltie didn’t understand a word of it. The rise and fall of the words was reminiscent of ceremonial speeches everywhere, but the dragons seemed to find this one riveting. That meant every pair of eyeballs was pointed toward the stage. With a hard gulp, Keltie began stealing across the wide expanse of the theater, praying no one got bored.
When Keltie was about halfway across, the queen stepped forward and said something in a commanding tone. A collective cry went up, followed by a murmur of excitement. Her Majesty spoke some more, and the crowd got even louder. Whatever the queen had said, it made everyone head for the tiers of hewn stone seats surrounding the open space in the middle. Everyone but the bare-chested Flameborn standing at the front near the stage.
Despite her curiosity, Keltie kept going, moving as fast as she dared.
“Rand!” the queen said, pointing down at a tall, blond-haired man who looked like he could crush cannonballs between his thumb and forefinger. He bowed deeply and stepped forward. “Larkan!”
Keltie paused mid-step. She couldn’t help it. At the sound of his name, she searched the scene below. Larkan hadn’t been at the front of the audience, but a third of the way back. She could see him from behind now. He stood now like a rock in the receding ocean of people, his shoulders squared and set. I’m leaving him behind. That was the plan they both had decided on, but suddenly every cell of her body cried out in protest.
Larkan bowed to the queen, his movements stiff. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t on board with it.
Keltie abandoned stealth and ran ahead. She had to get out of sight and she needed a better view of what was about to happen. When she reached the far side of the theater, she crouched behind a rising crest of rock and heaved a sigh of relief. She’d made it across the gallery without being seen.
Her escape was almost complete. To her left, the path led straight to the exit that would take her to freedom. But to her right, a stairway led to the theater below. Both options pulled at her, equally painful and insistent. Catching her lip between her teeth, Keltie grabbed the gritty edge of the stone and peered down at the scene below.
Larkan and the enormous guard named Rand paced toward each other. When they were about a dozen feet apart, they stopped. In an instant, their postures changed—feet braced, shoulders bunched. A moment before she might have believed them friends, but all of a sudden she knew they were about to fight. No! Fear for Larkan flooded her. Rand’s expression said that, unlike Larkan, he wanted this battle. And hadn’t he been the huge dragon that had chased them up the mountain?
The memory of Larkan’s body—rising heat and smooth, hard muscle—rose strong enough to make Keltie dizzy. She gripped the rock, telling herself to run for freedom. That’s what Larkan had told her to do. That’s what she needed to do if she valued her own safety. But she
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