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chapter 3

  Anna felt the poker wedged between her ribs. She sighed in anger as Mo backed away, tears in his eyes.

  “I can’t do this,” he said, his voice quivering. “Are you, are you all right? When does it happen?”

  “Well…” Anna breathed, pain sharp in her chest. “…you can start by killing me properly. Not just injuring me. Give me a clean death, through the heart.”

  She ripped the poker free and let it clatter at Mo’s feet.

  He exhaled shakily and picked it up. “Can’t you do it yourself? Fall on it?”

  Anna felt warm blood spill from the wound.

  “No. It doesn’t work like that,” she said. “Suicide won’t work. Rowan was clear. Death can’t be my own action.”

  She met Mo’s eyes.

  “It has to be natural. Or murder.”

  Mo hesitated, then stepped toward her. He placed the poker against her chest.

  Anna grabbed his arm and looked him straight in the eyes.

  “Just do it.”

  Mo screamed as he drove the poker through her skin and into her heart, as though he himself were being stabbed.

  The last thing Anna heard, before everything collapsed into darkness, were his sobbing pleas for forgiveness.

  Cold. Darkness.

  She felt herself wrapped in it, then, slowly, the thaw of spring. Sensation returned in pieces. Her arms. Her legs. Breath.

  Anna opened her eyes. Leaves rustled above her.

  The same place as always.

  The small clearing in the forest outside the village of Sensa.

  She rolled onto her side. This return felt… wrong. Colder somehow.

  But the air was warm. She lay still only a moment longer before forcing herself up. There was no time. She had to be out of the woods before the hunting party came through.

  Anna staggered to her feet and headed west, leaving the clearing and pushing into the thick forest. The ground sloped steeply toward the river, and beyond it lay Sensa.

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  One hundred and sixteen people lived there. Not one had any known connection to the royal house, to the princess, to Sten, or to anyone of consequence in the capital.

  And yet, every time she returned, this was where she woke.

  There had to be a reason.

  Anna hadn’t found it. Not despite all her attempts, many of which had ended in ugly, pointless deaths.

  Best to avoid it this time, she thought, as she had learned to do before.

  She stayed within the trees as she descended, keeping herself hidden from the village. The forest half-encircled Sensa, and she used that cover until the road came into view.

  Anna sat and waited.

  The sun was already high. Soon, the tailor of Sensa would pass by with his wagon, heading toward the train station at Stakar to collect supplies.

  She breathed deeply, feeling the sun’s warmth on her skin, and pulled at the dry grass beside the road.

  Had I waited too long in the clearing?

  The tailor should have come by now.

  Her heart began to pound. She glanced toward the village. The pigpen outside the butcher’s shop came into view.

  It was empty.

  No.

  It couldn’t be. Every other time, there were pigs there by now.

  Anna looked up at the sun again. Too high. Too late.

  The tailor should already have passed.

  For a moment, she considered going into the village to ask. The thought vanished just as quickly.

  She turned and began walking fast along the grass beside the road, away from Sensa.

  Her pulse roared in her ears.

  This was not the same day she always returned to.

  Anna rushed down the road. The train station was still miles away, and from there it was several hours’ journey to the capital.

  She walked so fast she was nearly running.

  How many times had she gone back now? A thousand? Tens of thousands? Every single time, it had been the same day.

  What could have changed?

  The last time was the first time she had ever made it into the capital. Maybe that had something to do with it.

  Anna shook the thought away and broke into a run.

  A distant sound reached her ears. A train.

  By the time she reached the desolate station at Stakar, her lungs burned. A few houses flanked the tracks, and nothing more. But the train pulling in was not the one she always took.

  Her stomach tightened.

  Anna moved to the far end of the platform, ready. When the train came to a halt, the conductor stepped down. She paid him, took the ticket he offered, and boarded as a handful of passengers disembarked.

  Relief washed through her as she stepped inside. At least this train was heading toward the capital. It would take her all the way there, even if it continued on to the coast afterward.

  She took a seat by the window.

  As the train began to pull away, Anna noticed a group of men still standing on the platform. One of them turned as he spoke to the man beside him.

  Anna was on her feet instantly.

  The train gathered speed, and the man turned further.

  She saw his face clearly.

  Vargas.

  What was he doing in Stakar?

  What was happening?

  Anna wanted to run, to get off the train, but it was already moving too fast.

  Her thoughts tangled. She had to decide.

  She ran to the end of the carriage and pulled the door open. Wind tore at her clothes. The rails stretched back toward Stakar, already slipping away.

  It was now or never.

  Go to the capital and try to warn the princess.

  Or stay in Stakar and find out why Vargas was there at all.

  Anna shut her eyes, shook the thoughts away, and grabbed the railing.

  Then she threw herself from the train toward the grassy hillside.

  Darkness.

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