Page 55 of Feathers and Thorns

She looked off into the distance for a moment to gather her thoughts. Rook had informed them of the fires that had ravaged their homes and that there had been few survivors. Baz thanked the Maker that his mothers were okay and that they had received his most recent letter, but Laraline and Alondra had also shared that the entire Montgrove clan, apart from her mother, had perished. Mrs. Montgrove had escaped their house with a broken arm and a few other scrapes and bruises, but Altair and Enara’s brothers, Rayden and Hawk, had been at the tavern. The Crow’s Nest had not had a single survivor.

Baz waited patiently for Enara to mull over her thoughts and was surprised when she said, “I don’t feel anything.”

This concerned him, as he had assumed she would be relieved to know her abuser was no longer living.

“I just mean, what difference does it make?” She fiddled with her reins as she fought to voice her feelings. “I thought I would feel a weight off my shoulders, but I don’t think I realized he already couldn’t hurt me anymore. The power he had over me was lost years ago when I moved in with Soren. The tether that bound us had already been cut.”

She released her breath slowly as she went on. “I don’t feel much for my brothers because we both know they would have ended up just like him. I pity my mother, and I don’t know how I will approach her if I see her again, but I wish her well. Will I be thankful that I will not have to see my father’s face again if we make it home? Yes. I am happy for that, I suppose, but Altair has been dead to me for a long time.” She shrugged. “At least now I don’t have to attend the funeral.”

“I’m proud of you, you know,” Baz said.

“Why?”

“Because you are an unstoppable force, Miss Montgrove,” he replied seriously. “You have lived a life of abuse and mistreatment from those who should have protected you the most. Every time he beat you down, you came back stronger and proved them all wrong by never giving up. You are beautiful inside and out. You are who I strive to be—unbreakable, unyielding, a force stronger than the sea. You are the hero of your own story, and now you are also the hero of mine.”

Enara brushed the tears from her cheeks and stifled a sob. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too.”

Edras Mora was in an uproar when they entered the city. Well-dressed townsfolk hungry for blood stood in the town center, awaiting Jai’s execution. They formed a tight semi-circle around the wooden platform that butted up against the inner city’s wall. An executioner stood next to one of the wooden posts in a black tunic, dark brown trousers, and leather boots. He was using a knife to pick at his teeth and was ignoring the many shouts from the townsfolk.

It was close to three past noon, and the group had but minutes to come up with a plan to save Jai from the hangman’s noose.

Soren gulped back the lump in her throat as she looked to the perfectly knotted section of rope that hung limply from the crossbar, knowing her friend would soon be dangling below.

She had never witnessed an execution. They had been outlawed in Draestel centuries ago for their inhumane nature. She was disgusted as she listened to the crowd.

“How long do you reckon he lasts?”

“He’s not a large fellow; I’d give him a few minutes at least before his legs stop kicking.”

“I’d wager three and a half,” a robust woman chimed in.

“I’ll take that bet,” another man holding up a handful of bronze said.

“You’re on,” the woman replied, smiling.

Soren grimaced. These people have no humility.

“They should be disgusted with themselves,” Enara commented, falling into step with her as they pushed closer to the front of the crowd.

“Yeah, well, the rich get bored, I guess. Let’s just try to stop the show before we find out which of them is right.”

Enara nodded as she squeezed her way through another handful of people.

The group had agreed it would be best if the men stationed themselves at the perimeter of the crowd, using their height to give them a better vantage point. Meanwhile, Saoirse was strategically placed in the center of the crowd, waiting for the opportune moment to provide a distraction. But Rook, being the lone wolf, had decided to scale one of the sidewalls to perch on the roof of a fabric shop. Soren had reluctantly given him her bow as a backup plan to split the rope in case their efforts were unsuccessful.

As Enara and Soren reached the front of the throng, the crowd began to fall silent. They stopped just short of the raised platform as a nobleman dressed in navy and gold addressed the crowd.

“Great people of Patrivah, I want to thank you for your attendance this afternoon. Our late king would be proud that all of you showed up in his honor to witness the execution of his murderer.”

The entire crowd bellowed, “King Otis, may he rest in peace,” before the man continued.

“I am saddened to inform you that Jaideep Ashwood and his accomplice, Princess Adaryn of the House of Drekar, have decided to follow up their act of treason with cowardice. Rather than face all of you, they took their own lives sometime in the night.”

The bloodthirsty crowd shouted their disappointments that all bets were off. The citizens’ unrest rang out all across the square.

“We want justice!”

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