The burning beam split as it fell. Celty curled into herself, tucking her arms around her head arms as she braced for the blow.

It didn’t happen. Instead, a guttural yell sounded next to her just before a crash.

Celty’s eyes flew open. What had happened?

The burly man who had been a few feet away was right beside her and shaking his hands as if he’d just held onto something hot.

The beam was on the ground a few steps away from Celty.

“The gods!” she muttered. “Did you knock that beam away from me?”

“Run!” the older man yelled at the younger man.

The man didn’t listen, only crouched down next to Celty again. He grabbed up her wrists and began sawing at the rope around them with renewed vigor. The remaining bindings began snapping one at a time.

Celty tugged with her arms, attempting to speed up the process.

The man looked up into her eyes. “Hold still now.”

He raised his dagger high, then in a swift, clean move brought it down.

It sliced through the final strands of the rope. Celty’s hands were free!

She scrambled to her feet, shoving away from the bonds tying her ankles to the log.

“We must go!” the young man yelled. “Follow us!”

Celty followed as best she could. They maneuvered through the smoke-filled stable, pieces of ceiling falling with every step they took. At one point Celty put a hand to her face, to wipe away her smoke-stained tears as she plunged through the near-inferno.

“Left!” the older man hollered. She followed the instruction, even though she wasn’t sure what lay in this direction.

Unexpectedly they spilled out into a small paddock. The fence on the far side of it was already collapsed, likely from the rush of panicked horses attempting to escape.

Celty drew in deep breaths of air the moment they moved out of the stable. She coughed, her throat burning. Her eyes stung.

“Keep going,” the older man rasped as he turned his head back to look at her and the other man. “We must – ”

“Ah, there you are,” drawled an unfamiliar voice. “We have been looking for you. What a pleasure to find you have trapped yourselves. It takes care of so much work for us.”

Celty snapped her head up. There was a soldier standing just outside the paddock, his emerald armor glimmering in the firelight. Four men flanked him, wry smiles on their faces. She stumbled back, only to encounter the outside wall of the stable.

Inside, another beam crashed down, sending a glittering spray of ash and fire up into the air. The stable was seconds away from collapsing in on itself.

All five soldiers pulled their katanas from their sheaths as Celty’s two companions drew their own weapons.

Three against five, she thought. A small chance.

“Stay back,” the older man murmured to the younger, pushing him back with his free hand. The younger man shook his head.

“No. I will fight,” he replied

The five advanced at once, shouting like animals as they vaulted over the fence and into the paddock. Two soldiers headed for each of Celty’s companions while the other one barreled toward her. Celty sucked in a sharp breath, and as the soldier got close, ducked. His katana bit into the stable wall behind her.

She shoved into him, driving her shoulder deep into his gut. He sputtered as she drove forward, forcibly pushing him across the paddock with her body until he collided with another soldier. The two fell down, bare heads cracking into each other.

Celty snatched up a rock from the ground and threw it into her attacker’s face. Blood burst from his nose; the man became still. His fingers slackened, releasing his katana onto the ground.

Without hesitation, Celty grabbed his sword and raised it. She bared her teeth at the three Ameyas still standing. All of them stared at her, momentarily shocked into stillness by her wild ferocity.

The fighting resumed as all three soldiers advanced toward Celty. She dodged their sword thrusts, twirling out of reach of the long blades.

The young man plunged forward, stepping between her and the soldiers. Flanked by the older one, the two men cut their enemies down to two, then one.

Celty stepped back, nostrils flared.

Who were these men?

The remaining soldier fell, a blade in his heart.

Celty caught her breath. Had the three of them won?

The young man fell his knees, trembling. Whether his shaking was due to exertion or terror, Celty couldn’t tell.

She narrowed her eyes. He seemed a bit . . . clean for a battle like this.

Why would those soldiers be following these two men, anyhow?

“I . . . I killed him,” the young man rasped to the other.

The older man put a hand on his shoulder. “These are no innocent men. We are no longer training in the courtyard for the day when you’ll need the skills. That day has come! You are no longer a boy, but a man. You’ve killed to save a life.”

“But…I killed someone!”

“They would have killed you. This is the way of it. You will have to accept that. This is the way of it from now on. We either kill, or be killed ourselves.”

The last of the ceiling crashed down through the stables, an entire wall succumbing along with it. Celty scrambled away as the fire greedily consumed the dry wood.

Light from the stable fire flared into the sky, casting a bright glow on the two men with her. Celty stared as the darkness dissipated in the wake of a strange light from the moon. She craned her head back. “The gods,” she murmured.

A bright, crimson moon hung in the sky, casting a bloody light over the whole world. The sight sent a tremor of fear through her, dredging up the feelings of unease she’d felt for so long.

She thought of Jin, then banished it. Perhaps he’d found freedom when all this death fell on the city.

The older man cursed under his breath. “A wicked moon this night.”

“What does it mean?” the young man asked, pushing himself to his feet.

“Something evil has possessed the lands,” Celty said. Her voice rang through the paddock.

The men shifted their gazes from the moon to her face. She lifted an eyebrow as an awkward silence ensued.

As the light of the strange moonlight illuminated their features again, Celty suddenly recognized the face of the young man. Her gaze darted to the other.

No! The two men who had saved her were Prince Isao and General Khalem!

She’d seen them often enough riding their regal horses. She’d never interacted with them – no slave would dare approach the Emperor’s son – but she’d seen the Prince enough to know his face. Isao made routine visits in the city to see his people, shopping from the markets to support them.

But never had he come to observe the slaves in their cages.

Her lips started to curl in a sneer, but she forced it back.

The truth was, she’d never seen Isao or Khalem around the auction block. To her knowledge, and that of the other slaves as well, they had never owned another human.

Besides, no matter what he had or hadn’t done in the past, Isao had just helped her now. He had charged into the inferno to save her when Khalem would have left her for dead. But then the General had knocked away the falling beam that would have killed her. And, when the five soldiers would have killed her, the two of them had fought to protect her.

Perhaps the free wealthy had some redeeming qualities after all.

Yet…how could someone risk that much when he didn’t know anything about her…and likely wouldn’t work that hard to find out anything about her? No one ever did.

Prince Isao and his family lived a sheltered and pampered life in the palace. Chances were the Emperor and his son actually knew little about the troubles plaguing the Empire. Their “soft” lives would have hampered their abilities to truly see.

Although, Celty grudgingly had to admit, Isao deserved some respect: He had killed two of the five – and didn’t even vomit afterwards, despite it being his first killings. Too, he had chosen to risk his own life for someone who was clearly a slave . By the strange light filling his eyes right now – dare she call it compassion? – it seemed he would do so again without fail.

Celty blinked, shaking herself out of these thoughts. She forced a calm expression onto her face.

“No wonder they chased you, Prince Isao. And General Khalem,” she said, giving each a nod of recognition.

Isao’s nostrils flared briefly, but he too put a calm demeanor on his face. “Yes. No doubt many more will.”

General Khalem eyed her studiously, a cool hauteur in his eyes. She met his gaze, refusing to look away. As he glared at her, she noticed he rubbed at his right shoulder.

“I’ll see to gathering the horses,” he said to Isao in a curt tone. “We must leave immediately. More will follow.”

He slipped in between two wooden slats fencing the paddock, moving away. Celty didn’t follow him, just side-stepped further away from the blazing heat of the fire. When Isao followed her, she ignored him.

Instead, Celty looked at the road leading away from the paddock and narrowed her eyes. What now? Where should she got? She kept her shoulders back and her chin up. She may not know what to do with freedom now that she had it, but she certainly wouldn’t let the Prince see her uncertainty.

“What is your name?” Isao asked in a gentle tone.

The question took her by surprise. She whipped her head around to find Isao staring at her, eyebrows lifted and an intent expression on his face. She hesitated, thinking about the calluses on her hands and the dirt caking her body.

She’d never given the Emperor nor his son a second thought except to hate them when she saw them, but now that she stood in front of him and sensed no judgment from his gaze, she wished she didn’t appear quite so . . . slovenly.

“Celty,” she murmured, giving her dry lips a lick.

“Celty. I wish we could have met in other circumstances.”

She swallowed, unsure of what to say now. The sound of her name on his lips sent a little thrill through her, but she brushed it aside.

The clop of hooves on the cobblestone road followed. General Khalem appeared, pulling along two horses by their reins. The horses jerked at the reins, their eyes wide. They pranced to the side, commanding all of Khalem’s attention to keep them under control.

Once he came to a stop, he pressed a hand to their necks, saying something to them under his breath. The horses calmed.

Isao stepped toward Celty. “Come with us,” he said.

Khalem whipped around. “Isao!” he objected fiercely.

Isao ignored the outcry, his eyes not straying from Celty’s face.

She hesitated, staring at the hand he was offering her.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“You need to escape as well as I do, and you can’t stay in the city. There’s no one who can protect you better than Khalem.”

She tilted her head back. “I can protect myself, thank you very much.”

His eyes darted to the stable and back in silent rebuttal.

She swallowed. He was correct: Without his help, she’d be burning alive right now.

As the heat of the nearby fire warmed her skin, she couldn’t dispute the power of what he’d given her.

Another chance at life.

Freedom from bondage.

“We only have two horses,” Khalem barked. “We can’t slow our pace for another person. She’s free. We’ve already saved her life twice. She can go take care of herself now. We cannot trust people we don’t know at a time like this!”

Celty lifted her eyebrows toward Khalem as she said in a measured tone, “He’s not wrong, you know.”

Isao shook his head, peering into her eyes. “I don’t care. I want you to come with us.”

Khalem mounted the tallest horse, grimacing as he swung into the saddle. He put a hand to his shoulder, rubbing at it again.

Celty stepped away from Isao, backing away toward the street.

“I don’t need you,” she said, using the rough, common dialect of Saman. Surely he wouldn’t know the language of the common people, she thought. “Go away with your General and protect yourself. I can take care of myself now.”

He responded in Saman. “No.”

She growled. “Give up, already! I’m not going to go with you.”

“You will.”

“I don’t need anyone! I’m no beggar who asks for help and can’t care for herself.”

“No one said you were.” Isao twitched his hand. “Come.”

“Isao – ” Khalem growled.

“Come, Celty,” Isao interrupted. “I know we can trust you. I can feel it. You’ll die out here alone, and I don’t want that to happen. Not now. You have to come. I won’t leave without you.”

“You’re mad.”

“No. I’m quite sane.” He reached forward, gently clasping her wrist with his hand.

She stared at his hand, at the spot where it touched the skin on the inside of her wrist. On its own cue, her arm jerked back, but he held on.

His grip was firm, but not painful, she thought.

Celty opened her mouth, but closed it again.

Would he really be so stubborn for someone like her?

Isao didn’t take his eyes off her, his expression steady and certain. His confidence took her breath away.

She grabbed his hand with hers and leaned in toward him, closing the space until they were eye-to-eye.

Something warm and comforting filled her body, and slowed her secretly terrified, racing heart. The unease of the past couple of days trickled away.

A thought stirred in her mind. Go with him.

Celty swallowed hard, and made a decision.

He offered safety and freedom. Wasn’t that what she had craved all of her life…what she could remember of it, anyway?

“Fine. I will go,” she whispered shakily. “I will help protect you if I can. I don’t know what you’re running from, or why . . . but I will assist you as a way of repaying you for what you’ve done for me.”

“All right!” Khalem conceded, shaking his head. “Just get on the horse so we can leave already. The Ameyas are continuing to slaughter all whom they encounter.”

With surprising dexterity Isao sprang onto the horse, then offered an outstretched hand to Celty. She accepted. He helped pull her up onto the horse.

She settled on the steed behind him, feeling a bit uneasy.

“Hold onto me tightly,” he said over his shoulder. “I don’t want you to fall off and get hurt.”

She blinked. No one had ever been concerned about her wellbeing before.

After a moment’s hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his waist. His body was lean and firm, a reassuring pillar at a time when everything around them was falling apart.

“Let’s go!” Khalem said, spurring his horse.

As Isao guided his steed past the entrance to the burning stable, Celty’s gaze caught on a pile of bodies in front. She blinked, started to recognize Jin pinned beneath Goro and a mutilated horse. She frowned, her gazing linger on Jin’s young body. Goro deserved whatever death he met, that filthy, disgusting man. But not Jin. Jin wasn’t like the rest of them. He was like…her. He deserved better than a grave of stinking horse innards on a field of death.

If Jin had just listened. . .

Celty discarded this thought with a shake of her head.

If Jin had listened to her, they may not even be alive. They may have been killed or worse. She would never start on this new adventure that might take her away from a life of slavery.

And a prince and his general were going to lead the way.

General Khalem led them south out of the city.

The two men pushed the horses as fast as they could, cantering down the broad road and leaving the battle and the fires far behind. Many times they swerved to avoid corpses along the road.

Soon enough, the city was out of sight. Celty hoped never to return to it.

The red moon overhead illuminated their escape route as they continued on. The light of the strange moon seemed to be racing after them, chasing them out of the city.