By The Light Of The Moon

Chapter 36

When the horses slowed down, my head came up, now noticing more torchlight danced across the wagon canvas. The two soldiers seemed relieved to have finally arrived, although the watchdogs gave no sign of the change.

I took a deep breath to prepare myself and absently rotated my wrists against the cuffs. The weight dropped off, landing with a metallic clunk by my feet. My eyes darted over to my watchdogs, both of whom were watching me closely.

Instead of getting up, the man said, "Put them back on."

I looked back at the cuffs and leaned over, snagging them off the floor. It was hard to believe the cuffs had just come undone – and we knew they'd been locked because the man had tested them – but then again, I'd also seen the necklace defy gravity and escape from my change purse. With a disbelieving shake of my head, I put them around my wrists, checking to make sure they fit and that the men saw it.

The first time I'd been fiddling with the chain. This time, the cuffs had fallen off when I rotated my wrist, but it was also the first time I'd moved in a long time. Could movement be the key? Or was it just random? Would me putting the bindings on make any difference?

Why couldn't these necklaces have come with instructions?

The wagon came to a stop, giving me something entirely different to worry about. The two watchdogs remained seated, still watching us. Well, moreso me than Shane, but they were keeping tabs on him as well.

"Unlock it," a voice outside said. "The Warlord is waiting for 'em."

"Here's the key," the cultured voice of the warrior replied.

The chains on the flap jingled, then it opened. The silent watchdog got up and went outside, aiming his crossbow at Shane while his companion exited the wagon.

"Your turn," the watchdog said, waving us forward.

Shane narrowed his eyes untrustingly. Reluctantly, I got to my feet and went forward, not wanting to give this many soldiers an excuse to hurry us along. The air behind me shifted, and I didn't need to look over my shoulder to know Shane was following closely.

I climbed down the steps, surreptitiously checking my surroundings. Tents spread out in every direction with too many torches to sneak unseen, even if we were able to evade the numerous soldiers pointing crossbows at us. Shane simply jumped to the ground without using the steps, standing so close our cloaks brushed against each other.

"Let's go," the warrior said. "Warlord Ivar is eager to meet you two."

The feeling was not mutual. My feet remained frozen to the ground until a sharp prod from a crossbow bolt poked into my side. I winced and staggered ahead. Shane spun to face the offender, but the soldier had already stepped back, his crossbow pointed at Shane's chest.

The message was clear: there was no way to decline the invitation, not with dozens of soldiers insisting we go. With heavy feet and dread in my heart, I trailed after him. Shane stuck close to my side, anger once again radiating off him as he glared at the fighters around us.

My chain was long enough that it clinked against my knees with every step. The rhythm dimly reminded me of the tolling of the execution bells, although I knew our deaths wouldn't be anywhere near as swift or painless.

Without warning, the clinking ceased as the cuffs once more tumbled to the ground. I promptly stopped, uneasy with so many fighters around and no easy explanation. My two watchdogs closed in. The silent one aimed his crossbow at Shane in case his chains likewise came undone. My primary watchdog picked up the manacles and frowned as he scrutinized them, turning his piercing gaze to me.