Page 201 of Of Iron and Moonlight

Kora’s eyes snapped open. Sabine turned sharply toward the door.

Isander stood there, sword raised in his hand. Water dripped from his boots.

Sabine scrambled to his feet, fury twisting across his face. “You—”

Steel flashed.

A dark line opened across Sabine’s throat. He choked on a wet gasp and collapsed heavily to the floor.

Merrick stepped from the shadows behind Sabine and wiped the blood from his dagger on the pompous lord’s sleeve.

Isander shot him a look.

“He touched her,” Merrick said with a casual shrug. “I merely kept your promise.”

“That will draw attention when he’s found,” Isander snapped, sheathing his sword.

“No more attention than when she vanishes,” Merrick replied, already cutting through the cords at Kora’s wrists and ankles. “Better him than us.”

Isander pulled the gag free. Air rushed into her lungs so fast it burned. Kora coughed, swallowing against the rawness in her throat.

“Are you hurt?” Isander asked, crouching beside her. “Did he—”

Kora shook her head before he finished. “Not beyond—” She stopped, breath catching. “Not beyond what you saw.” An involuntary shudder passed through her as he looked over at Sabine’s body. “Thank you,” she added. “For coming.”

“You left us a brilliant hint,” Merrick said, helping her to her feet. He pulled the sheet from the cot and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“We must hurry,” Isander insisted, glancing at the door.

Kora drew the sheet tighter as the cold bit again. “There’s evidence. In my study. It’s not perfect, but I believe Wolmer would benefit from seeing it.”

“Then we get you there,” Merrick said.

Isander led. Merrick positioned himself just behind her. They moved quickly through the narrow hallway until it opened into the main passage, where footsteps and voices drifted from around the corner.

At the sound, they flattened against the wall.

Kora crouched and eased one eye past the stone.

The Moonwarden was walking down the corridor toward them, vestments trailing along the floor behind him, a small boy’s hand folded in his own. The child was no more than three years old, with ashy blond hair falling unruly over wide, uncertain blue eyes. A chill moved through Kora, though she could not say why.

“Let’s turn back,” Merrick breathed. “There’s another route.”

Kora rose carefully and turned with him.

They had taken only a few steps before realizing Isander had not moved. He stood rigid in the shadow of the corner, posture tight with a tension she had never seen in him.

“Andy,” Merrick hissed. “What madness is this?”

Isander did not answer. His brown eyes were fixed somewhere far beyond the corridor.

“We can still escape without being seen,” Kora whispered.

Isander glanced once toward Firrigan’s direction, then back to Kora and Merrick. His expression softened fiercely, almost in farewell.

“Go,” he said quietly. “I will join you shortly.”

Before either of them could protest, he stepped directly into Firrigan’s line of sight.