Page 46 of Joined By Magic

I did glance at the clock now. Past six. If I didn’t leave now, I’d be late. “Okay, but—”

“It won’t take long.” She took a deep breath and chewed her lip. When she spoke, it was a whisper. “You’re her, aren’t you? The woman who escaped from Atar. Talia.”

A storm of electric terror scorched me. We were finished. We’d be caught, captured and tortured, and it was all my fault. “What are you—”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry. I won’t turn you in, I promise. Please, hear me out.”

How could I trust her? This woman I’d befriended under a false name, someone I barely knew. “I’m not—”

“It’s okay,” she repeated, more firmly this time. “I can help.” She lowered her voice further. “Ataran runaways are more common than you think here. It’s supposed to be impossible to break out of your barrier, but a lot do. Not everyone in your territory agrees with the way things are. Even some mages. I know someone who escaped. Let me introduce you. He’ll be able to get you papers, help you disappear.”

Pretending any longer felt pointless. I rubbed my hand over my face, fighting to think against the battering panic. “Did you tell anyone else?”

Nausea churned my guts, and my drink sat heavy in my stomach as I waited for her reply.

“No, not yet, but—”

“Don’t. Please.”

“Your government is disgusting.” She snapped the words out, and I recoiled at her vehemence. “My friend told me all about it—how they treat non-mages like slaves, and the women they keep in the palace. The things you have to do to survive.” Her face creased, and something cut through the fear. A lance of sadness, straight to the heart. The pity and disgust in her eyes hurt. I didn’t want it. It had been so nice, for a while, to escape it all.

“You know nothing.” Dismay sharpened my voice and added a layer of cruelty I didn’t intend on. “Don’t sit there and judge me.”

Her face fell. “I’m sorry. I’m not judging you. I only meant . . .” She toyed with her empty glass. “It’s not fair, and I’m on your side. My friend helps people like you. He’s helped people escape from there. I just wanted you to meet him.”

“No.” This time, I managed to stay calm. “I can’t. It’s too dangerous. Did you tell him about me? Be honest, please.”

She shook her head. “I promise. I wanted to talk to you first. I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to, I swear. I know you must be scared of”—she swallowed, her voice a low whisper—“him.”

Shit.

A glance at the clock confirmed my fears. Six twenty. By the time I got home, the prince would be pacing the house. If he didn’t come looking for me, afraid something had happened.

Katrin’s face fell further at my reaction. “Are you late back? Will he be angry?”

She spoke as if the prince were a night terror, a thing whose name shouldn’t be spoken in case you accidentally summoned it. Alarian media portrayed the Ataran royal family as crazy despots, wild and dangerous. She’d be terrified of the prince.

Maybe she was right to be.

Another unsettling thought, on the heels of everything else. Would the prince hurt Katrin if he knew she’d discovered us? Kill her to ensure her silence?

Maybe.

“I have to go. Don’t say anything. I won’t tell . . . him . . . either. We’ll forget this conversation happened. Can you do that?”

She swallowed. Perhaps the danger she was in had just registered. “Yes. But if you need help, please ask.”

I squeezed her hand and stood. Her bravery struck a chord. She’d taken a risk to help me. “Thanks. But I’m fine, really.”

She nodded. I felt her eyes on me as I left the pub.

I spun through every possible disastrous scenario as I rushed home at breakneck speed. Katrin turning us in for a reward, or telling her “friend” and him turning us in. The prince working out what had happened and harming her. Whatever way I twisted things, I couldn’t see a good outcome. My thoughts flickered and jumbled, and I made myself stop before the house came into view. An extra couple of minutes late would be less harmful than arriving in a state, my panic written clean across my face.

I planted my feet and forced myself to consider everything rationally. If Katrin was going to turn us in, she’d have done it already. She didn’t want the reward. Her friend, though, was a wildcard that I didn’t like. Could she really hold herself back from telling him about me? I had my doubts.

Could he be what she claimed he was? I’d heard rumors in the slums of people escaping the border, but I’d dismissed them as chatter, or a convenient way to explain sudden disappearances. Could it be true? Someone important, high up in the palace, would have to be helping.

It was possible. Garron had betrayed the prince. Maybe he, or someone else like him, could be working against the palace in other ways.

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