Page 111 of Harbinger

Kieren drags himself another inch closer. His elbow collapses. He cries out, the sound so helpless that something inside my chest tears open.

One of the men nudges him with a boot.

This time, Kieren doesn’t move.

“Should have listened when he told you to run,” the man mocks.

I barely hear him as I stare at Kieren. His chest lifts, and air rushes back into my own lungs. He’s alive. Breathing. There’s still time.

I snarl, but the hand on my wrist tightens before I can dive toward him.

“Get her up,” another orders.

The bartender bends and unleashes the hounds. The dogs bound toward Kieren and sniff.

“Get home,” the bartender commands them. They back away, tails tucking between their legs, and then retreat into the woods.

The man releases my arm and heaves me to my feet, drags me toward a dead tree at the edge of the clearing. Rope scrapes roughly against my skin, biting into my wrists as one pulls it into a tight loop. Another man stoops to gather fallen branches, snapping them over his knee and piling them at the base of the trunk with slow, deliberate care. The branches are green and wet; they won’t burn fast. The fire will take its time.

My heart slams against my ribs. There is no time. If Kieren doesn’t get help, if they wait for the fire to catch, it will be too late.

I look at the man binding me, trying to keep my lower lip from quivering and failing. “Please. He didn’t do anything. I came back. You have to help him.”

He won’t even meet my eyes.

“Tie her up proper,” his friend says. “We only get one chance.”

I blink at the man closest to me. “Why are you doing this?”

He grins, white teeth flashing in the night. “Burning the harbinger to appease the Stars.”

“And start a war,” the other adds with glee.

I sputter as it hits me. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

This isn’t about the raven-mark or superstitious paranoia.

The grin widens. “There’s money in war.”

They know exactly what they’re doing.

I was always going to die—one way or another.

And now Kieren will pay the price.

I sag under the truth’s weight. I should have let them execute me that night.

Two of the men force me against the tree, rope biting deeper as they raise my wrists over my head and tie the rope around the trunk. I struggle, twisting in vain, the bark scraping my skin raw.

“Kieren!” I cry again. “Please … please don’t leave him.”

But they don’t even look at him.

Kieren tries to lift his head one last time. His mouth moves, his lips trying to form a word and fumbling.

Fire blazes to life beneath me, branches crackling as they spark and ignite.

The flames creep closer, licking at the hem of my cloak as the smoke rises, stinging my eyes and lodging in my throat.