Page 101 of To Kill a King

“Tripped on a blasted tree root,” he said, moving around from the back of Aliya’s prison. “I think I dislocated my shoulder.”

Aliya stood on her tiptoes, peeking out the windows of her cell. He limped into view, his right arm dangling at an odd angle. The joint was caved in as though someone had hit it with a hammer. Dust and leaf debris covered his clothes and hair.

Brooks rose from where he tended the tiny fire and prodded the other man’s shoulder. “Yup. You did.” Without warning, he grabbed Stephen’s elbow and twisted.

A sickening pop echoed, followed by a scream.

“There. All better,” the inquisitor said.

“Thanks.” Stephen rolled the joint, testing it. “Damn, that smarts. Next time, at least give me time to bite down on my belt or something.”

“Watch where you step and it won’t happen again,” Annabelle said.

The three assassins settled around their campfire on her right. The road to her left, and the woodlands on the far side, were clear. She glanced back and forth. If she was careful, she could keep the wagon between her captors and herself until she crossed the path and escaped into the wilds.

She stared at her wrists, now raw and blistered from the iron in the manacles. First, get free of these things. Then worry about everything else.

Stephen’s injured shoulder gave her an idea. Technically, with enough force, any joint could be dislocated. At least, according to her father’s physician.

Pushing her thumb over her palm, she yanked on one of the handcuffs. The rough edges scraped and pulled at her skin. She bit her lip until she tasted blood. The bone shifted and pain shot up her arm.

Aliya bit back her scream so hard, she choked.

The manacle slid off.

Oh. She wasted several seconds watching the bindings dangle from her other wrist like an idiot.

Bringing her newly freed hand to her face, she inspected it. Her thumb was pushed in toward her hand and throbbed in time with her racing heartbeat. She poked at the digit with her free hand. It should slide right back…

She grabbed her thumb with her other hand, clenched her jaw, and yanked. It snapped back into place, leaving her heaving and panting. The throbbing eased to a dull ache.

One down, one to go.

Several minutes later, Aliya stashed the manacles in the corner and faced the street. Her thumbs were swollen and painful, but still functional if she was careful. Changing her shape ever so slightly, she squeezed through the narrow bars and dropped to the ground.

Her captors were murmuring on the far side of the wagon.

She froze. Too bad they hadn’t given her more than one canteen of water, so she could shift into something fast to escape, like a deer or mountain lynx.

The voices continued.

Keeping the cart between herself and the guttering campfire, she made her way across the road. Aliya raced as quickly as she dared while taking great care to not rustle any leaves or twigs.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage. Hurry, hurry, hurry!

She kept her ears on the quiet mumbling behind her, muscles tensed for the inevitable shout indicating her absence had been noticed. The forest loomed, its shadows dark and foreboding. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

A game trail cut through the foliage in front of her. It would be too obvious, and likely the first place they would look for her.

She could lay a fake set of tracks and run the other way. It hadn’t worked very well with Elessan in Filathas, but the three assassins definitely lacked his wilderness skills.

Ahead of her, the path forked, one branch headed back the way they came, and the other continued in the opposite direction.

The logical, safest option was to return to the elves and try to find another teacher to finish her training. A sharp pain jabbed through her heart. Cressida was dead because the king hunted Aliya. Because she ran away from her problems instead of facing them head-on.

Maybe Elessan was right. It was time to stop running, to face Malkov, and deal with him like an adult. Before more innocents got caught in the crossfire.

The trail to the left would take her back to Filathas…