When silence greeted me, I stepped over the altar and onto the ledge, surveying the ground below for a place to drop. Damaging the precious flora was the last thing I wanted to do. With a small leap, I cleared the flowers and landed lightly in the grass beyond. I winced at the impact, both because my injuries were still healing and because moving in this form was so foreign.

A dozen paces away from the house, a small gap between two wild bushes waited for me, and I jogged toward it, sucking in a breath and shielding my face with my arms as I pushed through the thorns. One snagged on my sleeve, and I cursed, knowing I’d have to repair the fabric surreptitiously so that Vagach wouldn’t notice.

On the other side, an abandoned home sat, still and silent as if it too waited to see if I would be caught. The wood siding hung at odd angles, more decrepit than it had been the last time I snuck out. Its owners had died during the plague, shortly before my parents and sister succumbed to it.

Grief caved my shoulders, and memories of those final days played over and over in my mind, halting my progress forward.

Stop it, Assyria! Move!

Cursing myself, I cut through a nearby alley, hoping to remain unseen as I wound my way through the houses and toward the main square. Most homes I passed were devoid of their inhabitants, and anyone I spotted in the distance was headed in the same direction as me.

The voices grew louder as I entered a wealthier part of the village, and the shops that normally had wares spilling into the streets were closed up.

Whatever this was, it was important enough that every single resident had turned out. Excitement flitted through my veins as I quickened my pace, needing to be closer, faster, so I didn’t miss a moment. Around the final corner, a wall of people blocked my view of the center, but a male’s voice rang loud and clear over the gathered Demons.

“The time to serve your realm has come. One male from every family must join the army. Kormánzó Vagach has been kind enough to provide us with a list of surnames in the settlement and surrounding area, so we will know who complies and who does not.” Gasps rippled through the crowd and people turned to each other, whispering furiously. So far, the only people from this part of the Demon Realm that had joined were volunteers. The war must have been going worse than we thought if they were here to conscript a soldier from every family. With everyone distracted by the news, I wedged myself into the crowd to attain a better view of the platform.

My husband stood on it, along with Priestess Anara, and they were joined by a handful of Demons wearing armor. The one speaking had thick plates of metal, even on a warm day, while his companions standing at the back of the platform wore leather, leaving their arms bare as they rested hands on the hilts of their weapons. Their elongated canines flashed as they spoke amongst themselves. One had even filed down a few more of his teeth, giving him an even more intimidating aura.

“Quiet!” the leader shouted, and silence fell over the gathered villagers. “Once your volunteer has been selected, go to the temple for screening. If you are found unsuitable, a replacement will be requested. If no one is offered from the family by sundown, the punishment will be death to all. We depart at first light tomorrow.”

Vagach stepped forward and scanned the crowd. Only years of practice kept my face blank as his eyes swept over the section in which I stood. “Due to this…interruption, daily worship will take place in the home. Priestess Anara will remain in the temple and will pray to the Weaver with your families should you require additional comfort as you enter this path. May the Reaper’s eye pass over you. May your threads hold strong. May your gifts never fade.”

He glanced at the leader of the soldiers, who dipped his chin. They spoke a few words to each other, but I did not catch them as the volume of the gathered Demons’ conversations grew louder.

In front of me, a mother clasped her son to her chest, though with his size, it looked more like she was clasping herself to his chest. “Jarnon, I am so sorry you have to go. If your father hadn’t died last winter…”

“I know, mother,” he replied, patting her on the head and then stroking her back. “Will you and Javia be alright without me? Maybe we can find an exception since your back is too frail to tend to the fields.”

As I listened to the young male console his mother, my attention returned to the platform, where the leather-clad males were directing a group of young ones that had already offered themselves toward the temple on the opposite side of the square. Parts of the crowd splintered as more and more pushed forward, ready to list their names for the Kral’s army.

Vagach spoke with the metal-clad leader, their heads bent together and Vagach occasionally gesturing around him. Then, they clasped arms, and Vagach dropped to one knee in front of him, resting his head on his forearm before rising again.

Vagach is going to war.

My heart soared, and I nearly laughed for the joy spreading through me. He would leave me here, he might die on the battlefield, and then I would be free of him. My body and soul would have time to heal. I could spend my days with Olrus in the garden, laughing, carefree in the sun.

So many thoughts flashed through my mind that I nearly missed the chiming of the temple’s clock. The clang broke my reverie, and I glanced at the sun overhead. Dread settled in my gut. I’d been away too long. Vagach spoke to Priestess Anara, who still held that stern expression on her face, then stepped off the platform, striding in the direction of our estate.

With the level of disarray in the streets, he would reach our home before me if I did not hurry.

Spinning on my heel, I bumped into a family, nearly knocking a mother carrying a small babe in her arms into a wall.

“Watch where you’re going!” she shouted, and I shot her an apologetic look.

“Running won’t get you out of this war,” her husband snapped. His words were loud enough that they carried to a huddle of soldiers leaning on a fence some dozen feet away.

Three sets of eyes snapped to me, and three sets of hands went to their weapons.

Fuck.

For a moment, I paused, debating whether to run or to explain myself. If the soldiers held me for questioning, my identity would be uncovered immediately. Vagach would return home, and I would be notably absent. He’d search for me, and when he found me and discovered my magic…well, I didn’t want to find out how he would react.

So I ran.

“Hey!” one of the soldiers shouted as I turned down an alley, ducking under a row of clothes drying on a line between the buildings and taking a sharp left. The mud-brick walls flashed by me as I tried to orient myself to that part of Stryi, wracking my brain for where the alleys ended and where another side-street waited for me.

Pumping my arms and sucking down sharp breaths, I tried to outrun the clearly trained males. Wearing the form of another was no easy task, let alone running in a form I was not used to while having a few cracked ribs. I shoved the pain aside, the desperate need to remain free allowing me to block it out as I raced for my survival.

Too late, I spotted an obstacle in my path, and on instinct, I swept my hips to the side. But I didn’t move far enough, and my arms pinwheeled as I careened into what looked like a barrel of apples. My knee caught the edge, spinning me around. It tipped over behind me, and shiny red apples tumbled in every direction. The males pursuing me stopped short, leaping and skidding to avoid slipping on them.

I offered a quick thank you to the Weaver for keeping me upright and the soldiers at bay before sprinting away again. A corner appeared ahead, and although I wasn’t quite certain where I was anymore, I knew I needed to change course or the soldiers would catch me. I didn’t slow my pace as I rounded it, throwing one last glance over my shoulder to gauge the distance between us. Apples flew in every direction as they kicked them to the side, clearing a path forward.