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When the woman set Iliana down on the leaves below, she slid in the mud and fought for balance. The Amaskan—Shendra, her father had called her—pulled a black tunic and boy’s breeches out of a bag and shoved them at Iliana. “Change into these.”

Iliana tried to ask where, but the gag muffled the question. The woman must have figured it out as she only shrugged. “There’s no one here but the four of us. Change now, or I’ll do it for ya.”

While the two men stood guard, Iliana tugged at the laces of her dress and tried not to cry. Always be brave were her mother’s words earlier that morning, and Iliana bit her lip. The knots came loose, but she struggled to get the thick, layered fabric over her head. The hem, caked with mud, clung to her face and tangled in her arms. In a panic, she shouted into the gag. When the sound of ripping fabric reached her, she twisted and screamed louder.

“Stop it—hush,” Shendra hissed as she hacked away at the dress’s fabric. The ruffles of blue fell to the forest floor, and Iliana’s green ribbon floated into a muddy puddle, more earth-colored now than moss. Iliana’s cheeks flushed while goose pimples pricked her bare skin. She tugged the tunic over her head and the Amaskan helped her buckle the breeches. Before Iliana could grab the ribbon from the mud, Shendra plopped her back on the horse and bound her hands to the pommel.

The trail of horses continued their gallop until darkness made it impossible to see, and by then, Iliana’s teeth chattered and her stomach rumbled. The big one watched her until Shendra stepped between them. The woman removed Iliana’s gag and unbound her hands. Iliana tried to swallow, but her mouth was too parched. “Here,” the woman said, and she held up her canister of water.

Iliana coughed on the first swallow. The water only reminded her of her hunger, but she dared not speak. The look in the man’s eyes kept her silent as they set up a campfire. Only a droplet or three from an overhead leaf remained of the earlier rain, but Iliana huddled against her horse for warmth as her clothes were soaked through.

“Here, make yourself useful.” Shendra tossed a brush at Iliana, and its coarse bristles poked her hands when she caught it. Iliana stared at the horse in front of her.

She couldn’t brush all of him. She couldn’t even reach his forearms. Shendra whispered something in Sadain, and the horse lay down. Iliana touched the brush to his back and giggled as he squirmed beneath it with a whinny. The brush caught on specks of mud and blood; the latter Iliana tried not to think about. A good ten minutes left the horse much cleaner and drier than before. When the beast stood, mud and leaves from the forest floor stuck to his underside and legs.

The big one spoke, the sound just behind her, and Iliana spun around to find him looming over her. He held a dagger in his hands, and she screamed before falling to her knees. The shadow over her shifted, and Shendra knocked the dagger from the big one’s hands. “What’s this now?” asked Shendra.

His grin left Iliana shuddering. “We have our orders.”

“Yes, to bring her to Bredych.”

The man shifted on his feet, and Shendra matched his movements. “Someone hasn’t been given the full plan,” he murmured. “No matter, I’ll see my part of the job done.”

A leaf crackled behind Shendra as the second man approached, but the woman didn’t move. Fear drove Iliana to the other side of her horse where she peeked through the gelding’s legs. “What in Thirteen Hells are you blatherin’ about? The job was to get the girl, take her back to Bredych for ransom.”

“Not quite. Bredych’s orders are to kill her.”

“I don’t believe ya—I know you’re fairly new to the Order—Sayus, is it?—but Amaskans don’t kill children. We aren’t Tribor.”

Iliana cried as she clung to the horse’s leg. Her tears distracted the man, and in one heartbeat, Shendra moved. One moment she stood several lengths away and the next, she hovered over the man with her blade against his neck. He chuckled as he held out a piece of parchment, which she seized with her empty hand. “Damn,” she whispered.

“Looks like you don’t know Bredych as well as you thought,” muttered the third man from behind Shendra. He held his blade against her neck, though his arm shook and a whisper of blood appeared.

“That’s my brother you’re talking about. He wouldn’t order this. He couldn’t,” shouted Shendra, and the birds in the trees overhead cawed in protest.

Iliana crouched down and slapped her hands over her ears. She didn’t see when the body dropped, but heard the thud as it landed in the soft soil.

One of the men uttered a groan and then a pop as his lungs filled with blood. The second man fell after a scrape of blades and a few grunts. The squelching sound of boots in the mud approached, and Iliana clamped her eyes shut harder.

When Shendra touched Iliana’s shoulder, she screamed. Iliana didn’t stop screaming until Shendra shook her. “Hush,” the woman whispered. “I won’t hurt ya.”

Iliana pointed at the dead bodies. “I don’t b-believe you.”

The woman pointed at the mark on her jaw. “Do ya see this mark? Do ya know what it means?”

“It means you’re Amaskan.”

“Yes, it does. Amaskans serve Anur, God of Justice. Have ya done evil?”

Iliana wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “I took my sister’s ribbon.” Her favorite. The green one.

“That’s not evil. Would it serve Anur to kill ya?”

“N-no, I guess not. But you killed—”

“Amaskans don’t kill children.” Shendra picked up the forgotten brush and set about picking the mud out of the horse’s hair. Iliana backed far away from the killer and leaned against a hollowed out tree trunk. The wet wood seeped into her already wet clothes. When a beetle climbed across her arm, she jumped.

She wanted

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