LYRA

The wagon jolted over rough terrain for what felt like hours, blindfolds keeping us disoriented while wheels creaked and horses snorted in the cold morning air. I sat pressed between other warm bodies, unable to see who was beside me but hearing breathing that ranged from steady to panicked depending on the person.

When the wagon finally stopped and hands pulled us down onto solid ground, someone removed my blindfold and morning light flooded my vision. I blinked against the brightness ...