Her best friend had always carried far too much responsibility on her shoulders. Wren sighed, her breath pluming in the winter air. Its light burned like embers in the darkness of her eyes and deepened every worried line on her face. Silhouetted at the cliff’s edge, she carved a gash in a sky reddened with sunset. Una snatched the boy’s rucksack and stole out of the clearing. Soon enough, the rest of their unit would arrive with the carriage, and from there they would drag their prisoner back to Knockaine for a proper interrogation. Only one more hour, she reminded herself. Una had been so ornery all morning, and Wren was almost exhausted enough to oblige her with the fight she clearly wanted. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.” “No? Then perhaps I imagined that misty look in your eye.” She bristled but held her tongue. Wren rested her chin on her fists, trying for nonchalance even as her stomach roiled with guilt. “Enemy spies don’t deserve your pity.” Maybe not. As always, she cut an imposing figure in her black military tunic, its stern rows of buttons shining like steel. ” Una dropped the chains, and they struck the earth with a decisive thud.
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