Page 108 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

“What? How did you get out?”

Her friend rolls her turquoise eyes before she juts her delicate chin toward an inconspicuous door to our right. “Everyone knows. You first get to the washrooms and then you take the first corridor right and walk straight out. There are steps that lead down the hill, and you have to cross the tiny stretch of desert, but then—you’re right there.”

I look down, and my heart starts to hammer even faster than before as if it wanted to escape my chest. Anexit.I try hard to look bored so that they keep talking, hiding my trembling hands.

The other girl vehemently shakes her head, as if she’s afraid of just thinking about the idea. “We can’t. You know that the Dark Lord warded the whole Fortress and sealed it with spells,” she whispers under her breath. “The wards are going to kill you if you don’t know how to pass.”

“Well, some soldierscanpass, and they’re quite generous after sex.” The siren smiles with her small, sharp teeth.

“But I heard that the crimson-horns are going to tortureeveryonethey catch. You saw what happened to Everly.”

“Everly was because ofher,” she tsks.

I try not to notice the pointed look she gives me. Try not to notice the hate burning in her aura. I quickly walk into another room to hide how bad I’m shaking.

The rest of the day goes by way too slowly. The silence of the Fortress is grating on me, making me restless; nervous. When Nidaw eventually releases us into the approaching evening, I run to my room as fast as I can, changing my loose shirt and trousers for my skintight black leggings and a fresh T-shirt. Before I leave my room, I grab my black ankle boots from where I hid them under my bed—leaving me without shoes would have been a good way to make sure I can’t leave—and tuck them under my arm. I can’t run quietly withthem, but I’ll need them out there in the unkind environment of the harsh desert ground.

A handful of moments later I’m already sprinting back to the kitchen, hellbent on using the tiny window of quiet between shift-end and the celebrations.

I already catalogued the rhythms of the staff, of the celebrations, so it’s easy to time my movements right. The only thing I can’t plan for are the guards. But no one spots me when I rip open the door to the laundry rooms and head straight for the door behind a few breaths later.

The corridor to the right. The door at the back, and then—

I slam into an invisible wall.

Wards.

I totally forgot about the fucking wards.

For a second desperation claws at me, ready to pull me under until I can’t breathe as I stare at my freedom only one tiny step away.So close and yet so out of reach.

No!I won’t be stopped by damn wards, or spells, or whatever. Not when I can taste the freedom on my tongue, the arid wind catching in my hair, the whisp of air and space as stare up at the endless horizon and at the sun that heats the ground right in front of my naked feet.

Only this invisible wall is separating me fromthis. From escaping.

I clamp down on my damn desperation and let the sudden fury rise in me. It quickly turns into fiery determination.

I will figure out those damn wards. I will get through this. No is not an option.

I carefully stretch out my hands and touch the smoothwallagain. First, it’s cool like stone, but then it suddenly starts to heat up under my palm, bristling and burning. Ouch.

I jerk my hand back, eyes wide at the prickle that ran through me. The inside of my hand is slightly red as if something bit me.Out. You want out, Melody. You can do this.Through that wall, I can see the desert waiting.Freedomwaiting.

I take a deep breath and touch the barrier again.

This time I close my eyes and let the ward’s magic hum through my body, directing it between my hands, more instinct than anything.

And some primal, alien part of me somehow recognizes its language, its magic, recognizes the spells with which the ward was woven. When I focus on it, I can see everything in front of my inner eye. An impossibly complicated pattern, gleaming otherworldly dark, bristling with black electricity and fire; sticky, like a spiderweb.

I know it’s also deadly. One more step and it would burn me like a bolt of lightning. Reduce me to ash.

That slight burn on my hand has been a warning.

An intrinsic part of me knows this, yet… it’s the only chance I have.

And before I know what I’m doing, I take another step while I mentally throw myself at those spells.

There is no collision. No combustion.

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