Page 93 of Kingdom of Briars and Roses

“Don’t speak to him like that,” I said just as a crash echoed from the street, followed by shouting.

The shop door flew open, and a group of cloaked strangers barged in, their faces hidden beneath baggy, black hoods.

“Free the land, free the fae!” one of them shouted, and everything descended into chaos.

“Stop the donations,” a second one yelled.

Callan was in front of me instantly, shielding me with his body as the cloaked strangers surged forward. “Stay behindme,” he ordered me, his voice nearly as cold and commanding as it’d been with the jeweler.

The hooded strangers drew swords, and my breath caught. “Give me a blade,” I hissed at Callan.

He ignored me.

I looked around, trying to find something I could use as a weapon. Before I could find anything beyond useless baubles, the strangers attacked.

Shelves crashed over, and beads and chains went flying. The shopkeeper cried out then disappeared through a doorway behind the counter. I debated going after him to make sure he stayed safe, but Callan lunged sloppily to block one of the attackers, and I turned my attention to not getting stabbed.

I felt naked without a blade or magic to wield, relying entirely on my quick footwork to remain unharmed. Callan stumbled and grunted and stabbed his way down the narrow aisle. I watched, confused and horrified. He had the basics down, but he looked nothing like the vicious and cunning war general the stories claimed.

Twice, I shoved him aside to help him avoid being skewered.

“Stay back,” he roared at me in place of thanks.

Another Autumn soldier stumbled into me, separating me from Callan. My magic strained to be unleashed, but I held it back. Through the window, I saw three more cloaked figures rushing to the shop.

Callan must’ve seen them too.

“Take her out the back,” he yelled.

One of the soldiers grabbed me and ushered me around the counter and through the door the shopkeeper had used.

“Hurry,” the soldier urged.

The voice was familiar. I glanced back.

Fletcher.

“Go!” He practically shoved to keep me moving.

I raced through a storeroom and out the back door into a narrow alley, my breath coming fast as I tried to get my bearings in a foreign place.

“Get to the—” Fletcher’s order abruptly went silent.

I turned as the young soldier suddenly lurched to a stop in the open doorway. He took a breath and straightened, all the color gone from his face. A short blade was buried in his hip.

“Don’t pull it out,” I said when he reached for it.

He let his hand drop.

A snarl sounded behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder, expression strained.

“Find a place to hide. Wait for me,” he said quickly then slammed the door shut—sealing me out, alone. Inside the storeroom, swords were clanging.

Seven Hels.

I spun around to face the alley again and saw a cloaked figure standing at its mouth. The hood had been pulled up too far to see their face, but judging from the crooked blade they held, I had a feeling they weren’t here to be friends.

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