There it was. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she lined up the shot. She couldn’t afford to scare it—this was her first big catch! Dana tamped down on her excitement; it would make her hands unsteady. The meat would go a long way, too. Game had been scarce as the weather cooled. Ever since the rumors reached the village. She shook away those thoughts. Not like it affected her. She took another deep breath, relaxing her hand on the bow. With her next breath, she released the string and—

A sudden rush of screaming birds erupted from the trees. The doe bolted, Dana jerked, and the arrow went wide. Dana cursed the birds for startling her prey, using words Mama would never approve of. Then she started through the woods after the deer. After all the effort she put into this hunt, she wasn’t going to let it escape now! And Mama and Papa might forgive her for going off without permission if she brought home some meat. A cold breeze rustled the dry branches, raising goosebumps on Dana’s arms. Then she heard them—the animal-like cries that sent shivers down her spine. That wasn’t a fox, or a bird. And it came from the south—from the village. Suddenly the rumors she’d been thinking about flooded through her mind. A squeezing sensation seized her chest. It was just like the rumors. Those scary stories merchants told when they passed through the village to sell their wares. Swallowing hard, Dana fled back the way she’d come, long dark hair flying out behind her, small leather-clad feet pounding the hard-packed, mossy ground. Already she could smell smoke. Then she heard the crackling flames, the screams.

She intended to run straight to her house in the middle of the village, but what she saw when she reached the edge of the woods made her freeze in terror.

Billowing, acrid smoke poisoned the air, lit by eerie red-orange flames that licked at every building in sight. The dry, seasoned wood caught easily, and the fire spread quickly. Frightened cries nearly drowned out the cracking flames. The familiar village, her home for her entire life, was a nightmare turned reality, a scene straight out of the underworld—Eug’s realm,

Dana’s knees gave way and she felt every bit as young as her ten years as her lower lip trembled. Her heart pounded against her breastbone and her hands shook. She hadn’t known it was possible for her to feel this afraid. She wanted to turn around, hide in the trees like she’d always done in play. No one had ever found her when she hid in the woods; it’d be safe. She didn’t know why no one had. But then again, maybe that was because the others were afraid of the woods, especially now that the rumors—Dana shook herself. She wouldn’t think of that. Maybe they’d already escaped? Because Dana could hear them, but she couldn’t see the lady that cooked bread and delivered it all over the village, or the men coming in from the mines, or the older boys that did the hunting, or—Dana’s heart stopped, then start again at twice the speed—or even Papa, who was always everywhere, solving disputes between people and doing his duty as chief. Or Mama, who would tell stories in the village square to all the younger children.

Dana swallowed hard, then got to her feet, using a nearby oak tree for support because her knees were still shaking. She had to find Mama and Papa. Had to know they were okay, had to say sorry for running off to go hunting alone again without telling them, and beg forgiveness (because Papa got scary when he was angry.)

Scarcely breathing, her heart beating hard in her chest, Dana started into the burning village—and immediately dived behind an empty water barrel as three men dressed in black, carrying naked swords, passed by. Mama had always taught her to run and hide from them, though this was only the second time she’d ever seen them up close. When the soldiers had gone, it took several moments for Dana to muster the courage to continue, but she did.

Slowly, her throat closing with every step (and not just because of the smoke in the air), Dana crept onward toward her house—or at least, where it used to stand. She didn’t even know if it would still be there. Hardly any other house was still standing. Those that were had entire walls missing and the rest still smoldering. The screams were dying. Dana refused to think what that meant. Finally, she rounded a corner and saw what was left of her house—three wooden walls had been reduced to ash, and the fourth was about to collapse. She could barely make out where the rooms had been. Swallowing tears, Dana glanced around, her ears tuned to any sound besides the fading cries and the crackling flames. Suddenly she heard Mama’s voice, and then Papa’s, and her heart soared with relief. She almost ran out of hiding toward where she’d heard them, but stopped short. Papa had taught her to always be cautious, no matter how safe something seemed. And Papa always knew best.

Instead, Dana inched around the corner, crouching behind the ruined east wall of her house. The heat from the smoldering flames seared her skin, in contrast to the brisk air. The wind blew smoke into her eyes and she did her best not to cough. Eyes streaming, her vision slightly blurry, Dana peeked around the corner. The relief winked out like a candle.

Mama and Papa were restrained by two of the black soldiers that Dana had been avoiding since returning from the woods. Four more stood nearby, their naked blades glinting in the firelight. A scary-looking knife burned silver against Mama’s skin, wielded by the soldier holding her from behind. It looked like the soldiers were asking questions. Forcing back the rising fear ten—no, a hundred—times stronger than before, Dana inched forward so she could hear. They had to have been taken by surprise. No one ever held Papa captive against his will. She’d seen him fight—he never lost. And he would have saved Mama, too.

“I told you, I don’t know.” Mama’s voice was tight with fear. Dana didn’t understand. What did they want? Why—why were they threatening Mama and Papa? And…why couldn’t she move? Her breath hitched in her chest, and Dana swallowed hard. Her hands were shaking.

“Wrong answer,” the soldier growled. There was a flash of silver and red, then Mama was tossed aside where she lay unmoving. To stop a cry of horror and despair, Dana had to bite her fist even as tears welled up in her eyes.

“Let’s try again, chief,” another soldier sneered. Papa went still, his eyes widening. Dana saw his fingers clench and saw him take a deep breath. “Where is it? It has to be here. We’ve searched everywhere else.”

Where was what? What did they want? Dana couldn’t breathe. All she knew was that she had just watched Mama die and it looked like Papa was next.

“I’ve told you, I know nothing about any amulet, other than the stories everyone knows.” Papa replied. His calm was frightening. It was the kind of calm he had just before Dana got into really big trouble. The kind that meant he was really angry. But the soldiers didn’t know that. “I’m as loyal to King Anbahrad as you are,” Papa continued. “I would never deny him something he so deserves.”

Dana choked back a laugh, unable to believe how Papa could make a joke like that after—that. Dana couldn’t look at the body lying at Papa’s feet.

The soldiers exchanged a glance, one of them glaring sidelong at Papa. One of them—the one with a dark red sash tied to his left arm—shook his head. “It’s no use. It was a long shot anyway.” The soldier’s voice was smooth, like the Halwyn merchants that sometimes came to the village once the mountain roads cleared. It didn’t make sense—weren’t all soldiers supposed to be rough and common?

“Eliminate him. Others have to know,” the soldier with the red sash continued. The soldier restraining Papa smirked and Dana felt shivers down her spin. There was another flash of steel and Papa fell backwards to the ground, the knife hilt protruding from his chest. The other soldiers laughed, but Dana was certain they weren’t actually happy or amused. Then they left, unaware that the chief’s daughter was crouched in the rubble a few dozen yards away, eyes wide with horror and wet with fear and grief.

The instant the soldiers were out of sight Dana rushed from her hiding spot and hurried to Papa’s side. “Papa! Papa, wake up!” she pleaded, shaking his shoulder. His eyes flickered open and he groaned.

“Dana. My Danara…” he whispered. Dana opened her mouth to speak, but Papa cut her off. “No. You must listen. The necklace…we gave you…for your birthday—”

“What about it, Papa?” Dana asked, her voice shaking. She reached for the black cord around her neck, on which hung a round talisman of hardened wood and steel with familiar but unreadable carvings on it. Papa, even in his weakened state, stopped her abruptly, his grip strong. “What—”

“You must guard that…with your life. Never…never let anyone see it. One—one day you’ll understand.” Papa struggled to speak.

“I will,” Dana vowed shakily. “But why, Papa? What is it?”

“I cannot…tell you. You must…remember. Remember the story. Be safe, my sw…sweet Danara. I love—you.” With his last word Papa breathed his last breath.

“No! Papa, no!” Dana cried out in anguish, her voice choked. “No,” she sobbed. The talisman around her neck suddenly weighed a thousand pounds.

She heard running footsteps and the whisper of steel on leather. She looked up in alarm and saw the black-clad soldiers approaching quickly. The man with the red sash was in the lead—the one who’d given the final order.

Rage flooded through her small frame. With remarkably steady hands she rapidly nocked an arrow from the quiver she still wore on the bow she’d forgotten she carried. She aimed and fired almost simultaneously, uncannily accurate for one of her age and experience. The arrow gouged the cheek of the man with the sash. Dana cursed her bad aim even as she loosed two more arrows within seconds of the first. She’d been aiming for his eye. The other two arrows hit a shoulder and an arm, then Dana leapt to her feet and took off running.

She ran as fast as she could—which was pretty fast. But her legs, long as they were for a girl of only ten, weren’t fast enough to keep her out of reach forever. The soldiers were much older and much stronger. One—the one with the sash, blood now pouring from his cheek—tripped her so she’d fall. Dana’s knee hit a rock partially embedded in the dirt and pain shot up her leg. She still tried to get back up, but her hurt knee gave out beneath her. Her hands were yanked behind her back and bound with rough cords that cut into her skin. She struggled, straining and biting at the hands that tried to restrain her. Something heavy collided with her head and her vision went dark for a second.

“Why didn’t you just kill her?”

“She’s feisty.”

A dull thud, like someone got hit. “She’ll fetch a good price. She can join the others that tried to escape. And many a lord will pay quite handsomely for pretty housekeepers, no matter how young.”

“Even against his orders?”

“We wouldn’t want to waste such young flesh.”

Their words came to Dana through a fog of pain, and she couldn’t make sense of them. The talisman was cold against her skin, colder than the air and the strong wind that had picked up. Dana had no idea why the necklace was so important, but she would keep the vow she’d made to Papa. Dana’s last conscious thought was that she’d protect the talisman—the last piece of her parents she had—with her life.

Next Chapter: Escape