Fireblood

TWO

The ground thunders. Hooves pound the earth. I pump my legs harder. Staying hidden in the treeline, I race through the forest to reach my home first.

I make it to the back entrance and throw open the door. My pulse jumps in my throat, and I spring past the living room to unlatch the front shutters, even though I already know what I’ll see.

The Force.

Their silver armor glints in the low afternoon light, and I imagine their cruel eyes peeking out of the visors of their helmets. Crimson banners flutter around their horses, the color spiking my blood with adrenaline. I back away from the window and race to my father’s bedroom.

“Father!”

I skid to a stop before his bed. “The Force is coming. We have to move you.”

“Nay,” he responds with a wheeze. “There’s nothing to be done for me, Zara.” His eyes, glazed and distant, beg for my obedience. He’s been preparing for this moment, readying himself for it.

But I am not ready.

“Damn,” he curses, his pretense slipping as he struggles to push himself into a sitting position. He waves his hand. “Fetch what you can and leave out the back. You can return for the rest.”

I shake my head. “I won’t let them take you.” I glance around. How will I move him if he continues to refuse to leave? I drag his limp arm around my shoulder and attempt to lift him. For all the weight he’s lost, he’s still too heavy for me to carry on my own.

“Zara…” He trails off. I hear the defeat in his tone. “A girl of sixteen can’t take care of a sick old man while on the run.” He coughs, and his graying hair gleams silver as it catches the candlelight. “I won’t have you thrown into an orphanage or married off to some cruel lord. Do as I say.”

“No,” I retort. “There is time yet.”

His eyes search my face. “There’s a loose floorboard under the bed.” He speaks so softly I can barely register his words. “Leave my ring so the Force won’t suspect anything to be missing, but take the other object. It will protect you.”

I stare into his adamant gaze and wonder if he somehow saw the prince’s announcement. If he knows that the Force are here for me.

“Father, grab it now and we’ll leave together.” No matter if they’re here for me, they’ll surely know he’s contracted the Virus when they see him. I thought we had more time, but the prince has taken that away from us. I should have been better prepared. I should have—

Thwump, thwump.

“By order of King Hart,” a knight says, his voice muffled through the oaken door, “you’re instructed to surrender your ill.”

They already know.

I look into my father’s emerald eyes—the same green as my own—and wait. I will not open that door.

I should have been more careful in the market. I knew they were watching. How long have they known? Weeks? I’ve been retrieving my father’s prescriptions for over two months, and today was not the first time I felt their eyes on me.

However long they’ve suspected, I can’t take back my blunder now. Straightening my back, I tell my father, “I can take care of you and myself. I’m seventeen on the morrow.”

“Zara.” In just that whisper of my name, my heart breaks. I latch on to him and circle my arms around his neck, drawing him close.

The front door bangs open, and footsteps echo through our tiny farmhouse.

“I love you, Father,” I murmur into his ear. Before I can say anything more, hands clamp around my arms and I’m wrenched away. “No.”

A knight spins me to face him. He lifts his visor and his cold gray eyes scan me. “Zara Dane,” he says, his voice gruff. “Your residency change papers.” He hands me a rolled parchment.

I hold the paper with trembling hands as the other two members of the Force grab my father. I step forward, not wanting them to manhandle him in his fragile state, but the knight extends a rigid arm between us.

“Your papers, m’lady.” He nods toward the crumpled document gripped between my fingers.

My father’s gaze snaps to me. “Why are you addressing her so?”

The gray-eyed knight ignores his question as I unroll the document. I already know what the paper states, but for the sake of my father, I play the part. “This…” I say, and stop. Take a breath. “I work beside my father here at the farm, cloning animals. My station—” I look at the knight in alarm, then to my father “—my station cannot be a castle maid.” I pray the knight doesn’t correct me, that my father won’t have to hear of my imminent engagement. Let him be spared that knowledge.

The gray-eyed knight spears me with a look. “You’re not to be a servant, m’lady. Did you not see the transmission?” Suddenly, I want the knights to remove my father from the room. Take him outside now. “The prince has announced his betrothal ceremony will take place on the morrow.” He squares his shoulders, stands straighter. “You’ve been selected above all for the honor of becoming Prince Sebastian’s betrothed.”

I drop the paper.

My eyes meet my father’s, and my heart constricts.

Before I can protest, my father yanks free of his captors, surprising me with his speed and strength. “No!” he shouts. “Zara, no.” The knights jerk him backward. “You cannot go. Please, Zara. Do what you must to escape—” He’s cut off by a quick blow to his head.

Spurred into motion, I push past the gray-eyed knight and run to my father’s side. “Unhand him!” I wrestle with the tallest knight’s hands. The other knight rears his fist back, ready to land a blow on me.

“Stop!” the gray-eyed knight orders him. “The princess must not be harmed.”

My eyes widen. Princess. Only my mind can’t process this now. My father’s troubled eyes search my face, then the knights drag him out.

I pursue them as they pull him through the shattered doorway of our farmhouse. “Please,” I whimper. “He’s no longer fighting.”

They ignore my pleas. My father struggles against them, and the tall knight thrusts his fist into my father’s jaw, dropping him to the ground.

The gray-eyed knight lays one hand on my shoulder and wraps the fingers of his other around my arm. “Your father is ill. The Virus has driven him mad.”

“Nay.” I shake my head. “This is your doing.” I bite down on my lip, preventing my mouth from opening again. No matter my newly elevated station, that will not stop their fists from flying if I insult the King’s Round Table Knights.

“You filthy…” the knight towering over my father says. “He bit me!” He reaches for his V-Baton next to the sword on his belt and my heart stutters to a stop.

I jerk against the knight holding me. “Don’t—” But it’s useless. The tall knight clubs my father over the head, and his face smacks the ground. Dry dirt clouds around him as blood trickles from his forehead, bathing the earth.

The other knight, his visor still masking his face, takes out his own V-Baton and it hums, its tip sparking to life with a white-blue current. He shoves the end of the metal wand into my father’s shoulder. My father writhes, his body convulsing.

Then he lies still.

Move, I pray.

“Put him in the prison carriage,” the knight behind me orders.

They grab my father’s arms and drag him to a carriage drawn by two black horses. I sway, my legs numb and threatening to buckle.

The knight rights me. “M’lady,” he says, his tone dark, serious. “Pack your belongings. Castle Karm awaits.”