Page 52 of Spar of Hearts

A man shouted with fury, “The red-eyed bitch bit me!”

“Let me go you—” The woman’s voice stopped suddenly. Percy inched closer to the window.

“There, she won’t be biting anyone like that. Shut your yap before I gag you too. And hurry up. We get more if she’s on the boat by tomorrow.”

“Dear Divine,” granddad said, his voice hollow. “They’re early.”

“Early for what?”

Papa whirled around, ignoring Percy’s question. “We’re leaving. Right now.” He grabbed his cloak, then tossed one to Granddad and Mum.

“But I’m hungry,” Percy protested. The pear custard was almost ready, and the pheasant pie smelled so good.

“Quit your whining!” Papa hurtled Percy’s school bag at him so hard, he fell back as he caught it. Tears welled in his eyes as pain shot up his back.

“Charles, this isn’t helping,” Mum said as she helped Percy to his feet.

More screams echoed in the streets. Percy clung to Mum and sniffled. He didn’t want to hear the screams; he didn’t want to see Papa. He wanted to eat dinner, then enjoy spoonful after spoonful of pear custard while Mum read to him.

Granddad knelt and handed Percy a cloak, then looked up at Mum. “Charles is right, Sera. We have to go. It’s only going to get worse. I thought we had more time, but—”

Glass shattered outside, followed by sickening shouts of glee.

“There’s two in here!”

Percy stiffened as Granddad squeezed his shoulders and held his gaze.

“Perce, there are people out there who want to hurt us. They don’t like Centarians, see. So we’re goin’ to find some friends of mine so we can be safe together. We’re going to go outside, and it might be scary. But I need you to be brave, all right? I need you to listen to exactly what I say. Got that?”

Unease wormed in Percy’s gut. Granddad’s carmine eyes didn’t have the usual glimmer that came with a joke. This was serious.

Percy furrowed his brow and nodded. He could follow orders, just like the knights in his book.

“All right. Follow me.”

Percy took a deep breath and shouldered his pack. Granddad pulled his hood on and led them through the streets. Shattering glass and slamming doors came at every turn. Screams, shouts and curses echoed through the market square. Percy usually loved the market, with its dark-trimmed buildings and white stone fountain in the middle. It would bustle with life every day of the week.

But not today. Not even the gryphons that normally perched on the roofs were out.

Mum spoke in hushed tones to Papa as they walked. Granddad walked beside Percy, patting his shoulder reassuringly every time a noise made him flinch. For a rare moment, there was only the sound of their shoes on the cobblestone. A faint sniffle caught Percy’s attention. The soft hic should have been impossible to hear, but compared to the gut-wrenching screams and smashing windows, it was impossible not to.

He halted his step and followed the sound down an alley and found a girl no older than five sobbing beside a refuse barrel. His steps made her flinch. She looked up at him with terrified, glassy red eyes, and fangs on full display.

“G-get away from me!” the girl cried, curling up against her knees. Blonde hair draped over her legs that nearly reached her feet. She seemed to think if she couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see her. “I won’t bite anyone! I promise!”

Percy knelt down beside her and patted the back of her blue day dress. “Where are your mum and da?”

“I’m not telling you. You’re one of them.”

“Percy!” Granddad shot around the corner and yanked him up. “There you are. Don’t stray off, please. Come on now.”

“But, Granddad, she’s—”

A clamor of footsteps and clinking metal came down the alley.

“You! What are you doing down here? Stop and show us your eyes!” A man clad in piecemeal armor pointed to Granddad, who kept his hood up and head down. His red eyes were harrowing as he stared down at Percy. Percy swallowed hard.

“Percy,” Granddad whispered. “I want you to run past the men and yell ‘thank you’. Can you do that? Keep your fangs hidden. And don’t look back. I’ll catch up.”