Page 46 of Gilded Locks

But the Rogue kept on running.

Calling on reserves she hadn’t believed existed, Grace doubled her speed, legs burning.

She was too late. The Rogue barreled into the ward of diversion. She saw him stumble, legs suddenly unsteady, and crumple to his knees in abrupt, consuming lethargy. Moments later, the sensation hit her like a cold gust. The magic fought back with greater force when approached with increased speed.Grace’s skirts slipped from tired fingers, tangled with her wobbly legs, and sent her careening to the rough dirt ground as reality twisted and swirled in her head.

Chapter 13

The ward prodded Grace’s mind. Fogginess overwhelmed her. Lifting her arm, let alone her whole self, from the ground seemed impossible in such a state of exhaustion.

An image blossomed, blurring her sight and banishing the panic that had surged through her moments earlier. A glade, beautiful, peaceful, and happy, just as she’d seen the day she’d investigated the forest fortress. Only this time, the details rippled, growing more distinct until Grace saw a vibrant daytime version of the maple grove.

Sunlight filtered through a reddened canopy thinned by the passage of autumn. A green-clad man sat in the branches of a tree, mask in his hand, yet his face was still hidden in the shadows of the remaining foliage. As the image came into focus, the wind shifted the branches and the sun slipped onto the man’s face, so bright that it obscured all. But her eyes wereadjusting. She would see the man’s face, James’s face, in a moment.

“Grace.” Someone was shaking her. Someone with a familiar smooth, deep voice. “Grace.”

Who was trying to keep her from seeing the Rogue’s identity?

“We need to go.”

Not who, what. The ward of diversion was altering her perception.

As soon as she’d identified the magic, the effects began to fade.

“Let’s go.” Who was talking to her? Her mind hadn’t fully cleared.

She realized that, somehow, in her dazed state, she’d shifted to her hands and knees and had started crawling away from the outer realm. She lugged her foot under her, waited for two breaths for her muscles to steady, and hefted herself to her feet.

The Rogue, who’d made it to his own feet, clasped her hand. “Finally,” he growled, and yanked her away from the outer realm, back the way they’d come. The enchantment gripped his untrained mind tightly enough to compel him to usher her away along with him.

Grace shook the remaining fogginess from her head. She heard voices, lots of them. Dread returned in a flood.

The Rogue kept pulling, but she dug her feet into the ground. He’d drag them right into a noose.

“Come on! I’ll take you there.” He spoke too loud.

More voices, from all directions.

They were trapped. Powerful barriers behind them, patrol in front.

What could she do? How could she save them?

The answer stretched out behind her, shielded by wards. That direction, she could escape far enough to dull the magic so the Rogue would stop fighting and they could hide. But to bring the Rogue into the fortress… He’d hear the words of yielding.

But if she hesitated much longer, so would the patrols.

“This way,” Grace whispered to the Rogue.

He resisted. “No,” he said. “It’s beautiful there. We’ll be happy. You’ll believe me.”

The voices grew louder. She was starting to understand a few words.

“It’s beautiful here too,” she said to the Rogue. “Come with me.” She tugged on his hand, and his weak legs stumbled after her. Nearing the magic boundary, the compulsion surged stronger, and the Rogue struggled against her.

“I really think we should go,” the Rogue said.

“I’m going this way. It’s perfect, you’ll see.”

Her words didn’t even soften the power of the enchantment. She could always tell him the name of the ward of diversion. But if he was going to know how to penetrate the second line of defense, she couldn’t justify giving him the key for the first as well.

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