It was a scramble to pull Eris from the cot and dash after the witch. The prince clung to Marion for dear life, eyes wide and his fingers digging somewhat into their shoulder. Even Jacket seemed to panic, grabbing Marion’s armor as quickly as she could to hide it away in the unseen veil so that the Crownsguard did not find it. The witch slid as she came around a corner, clawed fingers leaving gouges in the paint. A fervent panic had settled upon the cottage like a fog, the air growing ...