Ezra woke to an unpleasant morning.
Instead of the decadent silk and fabrics of his crib, he woke to the world bobbing up and down. A certain tightness clamped his chest, and a peculiar fabric hugged his entire body as cool air brushed past him.
This was a surprise.
He peered out at the castle as it slowly shrank.
BLOP.
His bearer had just jumped onto a rooftop.
Ezra's vision bounced around.
He was moving.
As much as he would have liked to bask in the scenery and the wind, he couldn't.
One odd thing was that, even though he was moving, he could barely hear the footsteps of his bearer.
Rooflines cut jagged silhouettes.
He wasn't flat.
Strapped to a body—Catalyna's.
A gray-black wrap held him to her belly. It wasn't silk; at least, it didn't feel like it. Without full mastery of his faculties, it was hard to tell.
He was bound.
Layers pressed over his chest and hips, keeping him stuck there. He tried to move; barely anything happened.
Above him, Catalyna moved through shadow.
Her hair was pulled into a severe bun. A strip of cloth covered the lower half of her face to mute her breath. Black from throat to boot—matte cloth.
In the dim dark, she blended in.
But light was creeping up. Soon she'd stand out, a cutout on the skyline.
Ezra's first thought came.
Where is Aerwyna?
He bobbed again as Catalyna hopped onto the next building.
Kidnapping.
Catalyna glanced down without slowing.
"Oh, Ezra," she said; her voice had a melodious sound to it. "You're awake."
If Ezra didn't know better, he'd have thought Catalyna was smiling underneath the mask.
Right. Play dumb. Act like a baby.
He acted, trying to make it look like he was about to throw a baby tantrum.
He was just about to wail and scream when Catalyna cut him off.
"Ezra, come on," she sighed as she hopped to another building. "I know you are intelligent; please drop the act."
She didn't slow as she paced away on the rooftops.
"I know you understand me, so please don't give me trouble. We're going somewhere far from Fulmen," she added.
Ezra made his face go blank, eyes wide.
He pushed his lip out. Then he let out a thin, rising cry.
Catalyna's eyes slid toward the alley mouth, measuring.
"Stop," she said. "I know you understand me. If you cry, I'll make you stop."
She didn't pause.
"You're safe," she added. "I don't want to hurt you unless I have to."
His breath hitched.
The alley narrowed. Stone walls rose on both sides, swallowing sound. The sky became a dull strip.
Ezra tried again, winding up his face for a wail.
"Really. Stop," she said, exasperated. "You're smart, Ezra. I've watched you read, write, and clean yourself."
"I watched you when you made the core explode," she went on. "I've watched you walk. I've watched you talk to your mother."
The nursery flashed in his mind—Catalyna humming as she folded linens, Catalyna's hands steady and warm.
Shock filled him. He tried to recall his past encounters with Catalyna. He'd barely tagged her as suspicious; industrious, yes, but that wasn't a flaw.
With the revelation, Ezra gave in. He just wanted to know how she could have hidden.
"But how?" he demanded, and the edge slipped into his voice. "I should've sensed you with my aura."
Catalyna's eyes narrowed a fraction.
"Later," she said. "I'll tell you once you're safe."
She slowed for the first time.
"Wait."
Ezra followed her gaze.
At the end of the alley, someone stood in the opening: a figure in armor, caught in torchlight. Catalyna stopped before the jump, focusing on the guard.
Catalyna pressed her palm across Ezra's back, pinning him tighter.
"Stay silent," she whispered. "Make a sound and I'll make sure you're unconscious till we get back. I mean it."
She didn't retreat.
She went up, climbing to the next building—a storey higher than the one they were on—to avoid the guard.
Her boots struck the wall and held. Three vertical steps as if gravity blinked. She sprang, caught the opposite ledge with one hand, swung, and hauled herself up.
Ezra's stomach dropped.
The wrap kept him welded to her, but he still felt the rush of air and the hard landing as she hit the roofline.
What?
"Are you a mage?" Ezra hissed. Panic leaked into the question. "Why didn't I sense it before?"
Catalyna didn't look at him. She moved along the roof, fast, quiet, and clean.
"A woman has her secrets," she said, and winked. "Now hush."
Ezra went still.
Part of him wanted to scream. Make noise.
Get eyes on them.
Bad idea.
He forced it down.
Think.
Escape? How?
Use my ability? Or hide it?
He might get out.
And then what?
A baby that talks. A baby that casts.
Questions. Locks. People watching him like a problem.
Reitz and Aerwyna wouldn't let anyone carve him open. Probably.
Still. It would be messy.
Castle Blackfyre was the safest option. He knew the rules there. He knew the cage.
Outside?
Anything.
Right.
Break out. Quiet.
Get away from Catalyna. Get back to Castle Blackfyre.
And keep his ability hidden until he was behind those walls again.
He needed out.
Not loud. Not obvious.
Break free when she slipped. Run when there was cover.
He tried his Field instead—pull in, compress, reinforce the muscle to break out of the cloth.
His mana stuttered.
It wasn't that he couldn't do it. The cloth didn't push back so much as it scrambled the signals.
It dispersed.
Catalyna spoke as if she'd heard him.
"Don't bother," she said. "That is a void-silk variant. You can't use magic with it."
She patted the wrap once, almost gentle.
"It also conceals your magic. They won't find you easily."
Her fingers slid to a knot at his side. She tugged, adjusted.
The wrap loosened for a breath. Cool air. His body woke up—then the cloth cinched again.
Mana brushed him.
Catalyna cinched the knot tight.
Ezra didn't listen. He tried to condense again, but there was nothing.
He swallowed hard.
I'm screwed.
What was she planning to do with him?
Doesn't matter. He'd try again later, when she slipped.
And he wasn't trusting a word she said.
She kept to rooftops and tight alleys. Using back stairs between buildings, she avoided the main streets.
At one point, she dropped into a courtyard and froze in the shadows. Voices passed beyond a gate.
Bren was waking.
Castle Blackfyre would follow.
Castle Blackfyre screamed.
Bells rang from three towers at once. The sound filled the morning as cups rattled and dust fell from rafters.
Birds tore off the battlements in panicked flocks.
Servants froze, then scattered, running messages and orders.
Guards sprinted through the inner courtyards, buckling armor as they ran. Messengers ran wing to wing. Stablehands fumbled bridles with shaking hands.
The bell pattern was wrong.
Chaos.
The nursery looked like it had been hit.
The window was shattered. Dawn air pushed through torn curtains. A chair lay on its side. A toy block had been crushed into the floorboards under a hurried boot.
The crib stood open.
Empty.
Lady Aerwyna knelt beside it. Her fists clamped the rail until the wood creaked. Ezra's blanket was pressed to her face, dark where tears had soaked through.
"My baby," she rasped. "My little Ezra…"
Her shoulders shook with the sobs. For a few moments, there was no Lady of House Blackfyre, no titles—only a mother beside an empty crib.
A knock came at the door.
"Milady."
Aerwyna didn't look up.
"Milady," the voice tried again. "Lady Aerwyna. The guard is assembled."
The bells kept ringing.
Aerwyna dragged in one sharp breath.
She lowered the blanket, folded it slow and exact, and set it back in the crib.
When she stood, her eyes were still red.
"Report," she said.
The Captain at the door straightened. Broad shoulders, dressed in matte full plate.
Right now, he looked like a man about to be judged.
"Milady," he said, helm under his arm. "The wet nurse is missing. Catalyna. She was due to be relieved at dawn. Three guards assigned to the side gate are missing from their posts. Their helms and spears were found near the sally door."
He swallowed.
"Signs of struggle. We suspect she left through them, or with them. We still don't know how she took the boy from the nursery."
Aerwyna's jaw tightened.
"No bodies?"
"None yet, Milady."
"Assume they live," she said. "Alive and compromised. When found, they will be questioned."
Her gaze snapped back to the crib for one fast glance.
Then she stepped away from it.
"Leave them alive," she added, already moving for the corridor. "I want answers. No one touches those three until I say. Disobey, and you die as a traitor. On the spot."
"Yes, Milady."
Her steps struck the marble, clacking hard and fast.
Riverrunners moved off the walls and fell in around her.
"Line every maid and servant in the Great Hall," she said. "Anyone who leaves Castle Blackfyre without my direct order hangs. No messages out. No pigeons. No runners. Anyone caught trying joins them."
The Captain nodded and signaled a runner.
"Half the guard sweeps the keep," Aerwyna went on. "Every room. Every crawlspace. Every broom closet. The rest go to the walls. City gate captains take orders from me alone within the hour."
"Yes, Milady."
She didn't slow.
"My Riverrunners form three pursuit teams," she said. "One with me. One with Sir Evan. One with Captain Holst. We lock the city down."
They hit the armory stairs. Aerwyna took them two at a time.
"Milady," Sir Evan said, catching up, sword belt crooked from the rush. "Any sightings? Foot, horse—"
"The only certainty," Aerwyna cut in, "is that my son is gone and Catalyna held him last. That's enough."
Evan shut his mouth.
In the armory, squires stripped her gown away with efficient hands. She stepped into padded cloth without hesitation.
Breastplate. Greaves. Vambraces. Gorget.
Steel settled onto her.
"Send word to the garrison," she said as a strap cinched tight. "Bren is under emergency order. No one enters. No one leaves. Anyone outside after the first bell of lockdown takes twenty lashes in the square."
"Milady," Evan started, careful. "The merchants—"
"Can cry into their coin," Aerwyna said. "Compensation comes when Ezra is back. Until then, they can live without shoving trinkets at travelers."
Her eyes flashed.
"Bring me the best trackers," she added.
"Yes, Milady."
She reached for her spear.
The wood sat smooth under her gauntlet. Weight perfect. Frost-etching along the blade glimmered faintly.
Aerwyna rolled her shoulders.
The grief was still buried in her, but she didn't let it wash over her. She took control. She had to. This was the most crucial moment. She needed to get Ezra back, and for that she needed to be both mother and Lady Blackfyre.
"Form up," she said.
The Riverrunners snapped into ranks.
She strode out into the pale morning, bells still howling.
"We scour every street, every alley, every ditch in Bren," she said. "We find her. And when we do…"
Her lips pulled back from her teeth.
"I'll make that whore pay with her life."