Jàden had no idea if her plan would work. She only hoped that the creatures within that massive tower put off enough heat that Frank wouldn’t be able to source which signature was hers. While she helped Ashe start a fire, the others strung up blankets to form an enclosed space between the mangrove trunks, creating a shelter large enough for the horses to fit inside.

  Three more times the engines roared, and Jàden hated that she had to give up her gun. Twice it had saved her, but if she really wanted to appear Sandarin and ride under Frank’s radar, she had to be one. At least until his ships no longer patrolled the sky.

  Soon the fire was so hot sweat poured down her neck. Jàden stripped down to her underthings and wrenched the extra water out of her clothes.

  “Got this from one of Naréa’s crew.” Thomas unwrapped a thick bundle. A set of dark gray clothes lay inside. She pulled the breeches and hooded shirt on, grateful they were only mildly damp.

  Black leather wrapped the hilts of twin daggers beneath, a green orb with trailing legs imprinted onto the bindings. Something about that symbol creeped her out. She slid each knife from its sheath—one crafted with silver steel, the other obsidian steel. Each blade was also stamped with the orb and trailing legs symbol.

  “You’ll wear these from now on,” Thomas said, fatigue in his voice as he rubbed muscle pain out of his arm.

  She slid the weapons back in their sheaths.

  Jon grabbed the bundle and unrolled the attached strips of leather, the sharp edge still heavy in his tone. “These blades will help keep you alive.”

  He looped the straps around her shoulders until they crisscrossed her chest, buckling between her breasts. The daggers nestled against her back, one hilt poking over each shoulder. Once the unit was tight against her, Jon laid his hands on her shoulders. “And we have a deal—you learn to fight without magic. I help you find Kale.”

  Except if she continued the search for Kale, someone was going to get killed.

  An engine roared above the canopy, blue lights twinkling through the high branches.

  Jàden instinctively ducked. Dropping her gaze to the ground, she grabbed a damp undershirt and wrapped it around the lower half of her face, tying it off at the back of her head.

  Frank would use every tracking system he had and might even go so far as to send in drone cameras. She couldn’t leave any part of her body exposed. Pulling her hood up, she stayed close to the fire, hoping its heat would mask her own.

  “I know you’re out there, darlin’.” Frank sounded furious this time, the playful taunt gone from his voice.

  The others didn’t draw their weapons, though their fingers itched toward their arrows.

  “Doesn’t feel right hiding like this,” Ashe muttered.

  Jàden dug her fingers into the sand to hide her fear. These men at least listened to her plan, but if they took the fight head on, it could be the end of their road. “The alternative is he shoots all of you and I’m in a cage.”

  Ashe clenched his jaw, clearly unhappy with her biting words. These men didn’t understand how powerful Frank was in the cockpit of his ship. One flip of a switch and he could kill them all.

  She gripped the sand so tight she was certain the others could see the fear hammering her heart.

  For nearly an hour, the ships hovered above the canopy. Why wouldn’t they leave? Perhaps Frank saw through her ruse and was just waiting for something.

  Jàden was certain at any second that Enforcers would rappel through the trees. Keeping her hood low over her eyes, she peeked through the hole above the blankets. Shimmering gossamer threads glistened in the late morning light. “The spiders.”

  “They’re after the sky beast,” Andrew muttered, sliding in close beside her. He and Ashe were so identical she could barely tell them apart, except that Andrew was far more serious than his twin. He pointed to a hole in the canopy where a silken thread attached to one wing.

  “How big are those things?” A chill crawled along her skin at the idea of giant spiders.

  “In many ways, they’re human, but a single thread of their web is strong enough to hold a full-grown buck in place.” Andrew gestured toward the captain. “We should get out of here.”

  “Agreed.” Jon picked up one of his now-dry cigarettes from near the fire and lit it. “Pack everything except the blankets. If the webbing holds that ship when it tries to leave, that’s our signal to get out of here, nice and slow.”

  Jàden quickly packed all her belongings and stuffed them inside Agnar’s saddle bag, sparing the stallion a moment to scratch his cheek. But he flattened his ears and snorted at her. Something was bothering him, probably because he was stuffed into another stall when he wanted to ride.

  “That web won’t hold those ships.” Not if the pilot pushes the thrust. But then, she’d also never seen a web as tall as a gateway tower. All the things she’d learned in her biology classes might be useless knowledge now.

  Peeking out between the blankets, she searched the mangroves rooted along the shore for any sign of more web. If the sahirana surrounded them with the same silken threads, they might never escape.

  “We should leave now,” Jon said beside her. “Nice and slow while the shifters are distracted.”

  “We’ll be exposed.” She pointed toward the ships. “Those webs won’t hold—”

  “Do you trust me, Jàden?” His dark brown eyes pinned her in place, a strong intensity burning in their depths. As if to punctuate his words, a surge of strength breathed into her skin from their bond.

  “Yes, of course I do.”

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  Jon touched her chin, tilting her head to meet his. “Then trust my instincts. If we don’t leave this place now, we never will.”

  Fire burned in her gut at his closeness, at the edged expression daring her to fight him on this. But she didn’t want to fight. She ached to pull him close and feel the softness of his mouth against hers.

  By the Guardians, she wanted this man.

  But she couldn’t give in to the energy tangling them together. One intimate kiss could forge their energy as one, and she’d never be able to free him.

  She bit down on her lip and turned away, grabbing Agnar’s saddle and pulling herself up, something she didn’t have the strength for a few weeks ago.

  They pulled down the blankets, and Jàden rolled hers into a bundle as she followed Thomas into the labyrinth of tree roots.

  Jon stayed behind, getting everyone else out before he climbed onto his stallion, holding a lit stick like a torch. Sahir? web was flammable, and one touch of the fire might set the whole tower ablaze. Trusting Jon’s instincts should have been easy.

  Except now they were exposed to heat signature tracking, camera drones and anything else Frank might throw at them.

  Jàden had to bite down hard on her lip to keep from bolting through the high roots. Fear pounded in her ears as she clutched Agnar’s reins, white fire surging through her veins. She couldn’t lose control of her power, not with Frank looming overhead.

  “Sit up, Jàden. Act Sandarin.” Thomas nudged his horse beside her. “This is your training until we’re out of this place. Act like you belong here.”

  As he trotted ahead again to guide them around stray web threads, she wove her fingers through Agnar’s mane hairs and sat up straighter, trying to emulate the others. Twice she had to duck under a stray thread. Even one brush against it would have her trapped by its sticky fibers, at least according to the others.

  An engine roared, and a ship veered off into the jungle.

  Maybe they weren’t watching her like she’d thought and something else had their attention. Anything could lurk in the trees. The spiders had to feed on something, and she hoped it wasn’t only humans.

  “Let’s pick up the pace,” Jon shouted.

  She followed his gaze to the sea, a small dark blot on the horizon. At first, it seemed Naréa might have turned the Darius back, but a ripple of power whispered through the burned skin on Jàden’s hip.

  The Rakir followed them.

  “One more problem we don’t need,” she said.

  Another of Frank’s ships roared louder and veered off toward the sea, but halfway through its turn, it hovered in the same spot. The pilot gunned the engines, blue fire cutting a swath into the trees as it shot over Jàden, smoke billowing out of its wing.

  The top of the web tower burst into an inferno, the merest whisper of screams on the air. She nudged Agnar to a trot as they stumbled onto a muddy road winding through large rubber trees with strangler figs wrapping trunks and branches in a thicket of vines.

  “Keep a steady pace,” Thomas hissed at her. “Slow and steady.”

  One ship remained overhead, its engines whining as if something stalled them out. An explosion rocked the upper canopy, the force of the blast so strong it startled the horses.

  Agnar bolted.

  Jàden tightened her legs to hang on. She tried pulling on the reins, but he dropped his head and charged.

  Fire and metal rained down behind them, igniting the web threads. Shadows scuttled everywhere she turned, and her heart pounded so hard she had to bite back a scream of terror.

  Jon’s instincts were right.

  If they’d waited, they’d all be buried under raining metal and a blaze quickly spreading from one tree to another.

  “Slow down, Agnar!” She tried to watch for more webbing as she gripped the reins and leaned all her weight backwards, but he shook his head and reared, hopping sideways before all four hooves hit the sand and he bolted.

  He was going to get them both killed if he didn’t slow down.

  Agnar raced under a large branch, and she threw herself against his neck, the foliage scraping along her back.

  “Dammit, Agnar!” She glanced behind her, but the others were scattered, wrangling their horses around the roots with their weapons out. She had to get back and help, but the Flame’s white light surged in her veins.

  She couldn’t unleash it. Not without condemning them all.

  Agnar plunged around a curve in the road and ran until his sides heaved and foam licked up his neck. Cut off from the others, she dropped the reins and gripped her fists tight to force back the Flame’s consuming power.

  The stallion hopped sideways several times to slow himself then dead-stopped in the middle of the road.

  Jàden leaned her head against his neck as they both panted heavily. “I thought nothing spooked you.”

  Yet as soon as she said it, she stretched to the side, a long string of drool hanging out of Agnar’s mouth.

  Shit.

  He was in pain. The stallion had been a little moody the last few days on the ship, and she’d figured it had to do with being cooped up. “That bit must be hurting you.”

  He’s your horse now, Mather’s voice whispered into her thoughts.

  She was all alone, cut off from the others, though their shouts filtered through the trees.

  Jàden dropped to the ground, grabbed Agnar’s bridle and trotted him off the road, the trees so silent it sent a warning straight up her spine. Hiding just out of sight, she untied the blanket and wrapped the rope around Agnar’s neck.

  “No more running. Let’s get this thing off you.” She unbuckled the bridle and pulled it off his head, fiddling with the bit to unhook it.

  A family of otters poked their heads out of the brush, watching her intently. Or maybe they were shifters too. She edged back, wrapping her hands around the leather strips to hold them like a weapon. Could be just animals, but she’d done enough animal behavior classes to sense that something was off.

  The otters melted together into a man with muddy blond hair and a bow strung across his back. His clothes the same brown as his otter fur, intent gray eyes held her in place. He stood from the brush, his words in perfect common speech. “I won’t harm you.”

  Hàlon’s language from the mouth of a Sandarin. He said the same words again in the local tongue and stepped closer.

  Agnar laid his ears flat and tossed his head at the stranger as she gripped the bridle tighter. As the man stepped closer, she swung the metal bit, but the stranger caught her wrist.

  He tugged down the make-shift mask across her face, his eyes tracing over her features. “Jàden. You’re alive.”

  “You know me.” Her chest tightened, the man’s words in flawless common as if he’d grown up on Hàlon. No, this couldn’t be right. It had to be another one of Frank’s ploys. “Who are you?”

  Jon and the others’ shouts drew closer.

  “I’ll find you again,” he whispered so close to her ear that the hair on his chin prickled her skin. Releasing her wrist, he melted into a pile of otters and scurried into the bushes.

  Every hair on Jàden’s neck stood straight as a presence whispered across her shoulder.

  Theryn’s usually jovial features were hard and focused as he stepped beside her, a cut across his eye. He pulled a feathered arrow shaft next to his cheek, tightening the tension on his bow. “Back to your horse.”

  “Don’t shoot him.” The man hadn’t tried to harm her and he’d known her real name and language. Maybe another hypersleeper like her.

  “We’d be dead if I did.” Theryn glanced around the trees then eased the tension on his arrow. “He’s not alone.”

  The stranger emerged deeper in the trees and climbed to a low branch covered in ivy. The vines slid together until a blond woman crouched beside him, whispering in his ear.

  “See?” Theryn muttered. “Not alone.”

  “Let’s get moving,” Jon barked as the others caught up.

  Jàden tugged the strip of cloth back over her mouth. Looping the bridle on her arm, she climbed in the saddle and gripped Agnar’s mane hairs.

  “You don’t stop. Keep riding.” Blood splattered Jon’s cheek, and the anger in his voice gutted her. Kale had spoken to her like that once, as if she were under his command and better start following orders.

  She hated it then, and she hated it now. Not even the fire in her gut could quench her irritation. “Yes, Captain.”

  Jàden didn’t care if he caught the heavy sarcasm in her voice. She wasn’t a child and wasn’t about to be ordered around like one.

  Clenching her fists, she tried her best to keep from cursing up a storm. She needed to put up a wall between them anyway before she did something really stupid that couldn’t be undone. And she might as well do it now, while he was angry anyways.

  Ignoring his glare, she nudged Agnar around him and trotted after Thomas.