Isabelle

Eli forces me to take my phone out and show him what it does. Since I only have less than a month left here, I figure it’s worth spending the final 20 percent of its battery life teaching him how to work Snapchat.

He is completely bewitched for a solid five minutes. He takes a pretty decent picture before flitting across the parlor to show his mad skills off to everyone.

Kieran peers noncommittally at Eli’s selfie.

“Not a good angle,” he mutters.

“That’s not true,” I tell Eli, shooting Kieran a reprimanding look. “You’re a natural. Here – take another one.”

As the boy comes over to climb onto my lap, Kieran flashes me a toothy grin. I can’t help but chuckle.

The door suddenly bursts open.

Astrid strides in – no; she stumbles in, as if she’s been running and now there’s nothing to stop her inertia. Water drips from her messed-up braid. Her cotton dress is soaked through and through.

She is visibly shaking.

“What’s the matter?” Imogen rises from the floor, accidentally knocking over the pile of clothes she’d stacked up neatly.

For a few seconds she can’t even speak. Her knuckles turn white as she latches onto the back of Kieran’s seat for support.

We all rise to our feet in alarm.

“Damian,” she pants. “He’s...he...my father…”

“He what?” I say.

“He murdered my father.”

The whole room drops by a thousand degrees.

I don’t think any of us really knows what to say to that. Bayorn is the first to recover.

“Are you certain of it?” he says in a cautionary tone.

“Yes, I’m sure he just confessed to killing my father!” she snaps, her tone hitched in near hysteria.

“Did he find you?” Kieran rises to his feet. “Are you hurt?”

She rubs her arms up and down. “N-no. I just went to see him, to throw him off our scent.”

His eyes narrow. “You...you went to see him alone? After I specifically warned you to avoid -”

“It was my idea, my lord,” Bayorn interrupts him, stepping forward. “She is our only connection to the hunters. I told her to inform him that the beast has been taken care of.”

“That was not your call to make.”

“Neither was it yours,” Bayorn argues.

Kieran’s eyes flare like a raging sea. He steps forward, squaring off with his unmoving guard. Imogen and I exchange a nervous look over his impertinence.

“Forgive me, sire, but I will stand by the decision I made. I will not allow the little time you have left here to be spent warring against an angry mob.”

“And in doing so, you put her life in danger!”

“Alright, shut up, both of you!” I snap. “We’ve got bigger things to deal with here.”

To my astonishment, the authority in my voice rings loud and clear. Their gazes break away from each other.

I suck in a deep breath. Astrid slinks into a chair nearby, her eyes still wide in horror.

“Can you tell us exactly what happened?” I ask her, trying to sound as soothing as possible.

She does. The deeper into the story she gets, the more hairs stand on the back of my neck.

“He will come for us,” she says. “He’s gone mad. He’ll stir up the whole town and send them right to our doorstep.”

“Where did you say you injured him?” Bayorn asks, folding his arms across his chest.

She reaches down to touch the side of her thigh.

He nods. “That may buy us some time. Nobody would lead a siege at a disadvantage such as that. Not if he can help it.” His eyes travel to Kieran.

“What is your verdict, my lord?”

“We obviously cannot – agh!”

Kieran suddenly doubles over.

Our first collective instinct is to glance at the windows. Afternoon. Imogen rushes over to help Kieran straighten up.

When he speaks again, his voice is pinched in a strain. “We obviously cannot deny the public’s right to visit.” He winces tightly.

Astrid chews on a fingernail. “No,” she shakes her head. “No, we cannot kill them. There must be some other way.”

“My lady, we are not at a liberty to choose…” Bayorn starts, but she cuts him off with one of her razor-sharp glares.

“We will not. Kill.”

“Okay, yeah,” I interject in a desperate attempt to cut the tension in the air. “I’m with her on this: definitely no murder. We’ll just have to defend ourselves without getting any blood on our hands, right?”

The guard standing before us suddenly becomes less of the man who coddles Eli and more of a soldier. He gives me a look that tells me to stop being ridiculous.

“Do you think fighting any battle is as simple as that? They won’t come in with wooden swords.”

“We have to try, Bayorn. We have to do whatever it takes. Imogen,” I shift my attention to her. “Tell him.”

She opens her mouth, but no words come out.

Kieran grunts in pain. “Okay. I need to leave right now. Captain?”

Bayorn’s jaw clenches and unclenches. Never before have I seen him look so tense.

When Kieran cries out again, he turns abruptly and sweeps his Master out of the room. The door slams shut behind him.

We all look at each other in silence. Astrid’s breathing becomes ragged.

Finally, Imogen makes a decision.

“Let me make you some tea, dear,” she mutters to Astrid before fleeing the scene.