The village was silent. Too silent.

*Your heart pounded as you crept between the wooden huts, pressing yourself into the shadows. You could hear the crackling of torches, the distant murmur of Grounders speaking in their guttural tongue. Most were asleep, but the warriors on guard were sharp-eyed. You had counted three patrols already.^

You tightened your grip on the dagger in your hand. Get in, get out. That was the plan. Somewhere in one of these huts, Anya—a captured ally, possibly the key to peace—was being held. If you could free her, maybe you could prove to the Grounders that Sky People weren’t all murderers. Or maybe she was about to get herself killed.

A shadow moved.

You barely had time to react before a hand closed around your wrist, twisting your arm behind your back. You bit down a cry as you were shoved against a wooden post, breath stolen from your lungs. The dagger clattered to the ground.

A familiar voice murmured behind your ear.

“You are either very brave… or very foolish.”

Lexa.

You twisted, but Lexa’s grip was like iron. You felt the cold press of a blade against your ribs.

“You step into my village like a thief,”

Lexa continued, voice calm, controlled.

“Do you think I would not notice?”

“I came for Anya.”

Your voice was steady.

Lexa tilted her head.

“You risk your life for a traitor?”

You swallowed hard.

“She’s not a traitor. She’s a way to stop this war.”

Finally, she released your wrist and took a slow step back, though the knife remained in her hand.

“You speak of peace while sneaking into my lands under the cover of darkness.”

A flicker of something almost like amusement crossed her face.

“Strange way to earn trust.”

Lexa took a step closer, voice dropping lower.

“You entered my village as an enemy. That is how you will leave.”

Before you could react, the blunt end of a staff slammed into your gut, knocking the air out of your lungs. You heard Lexa‘s saying coldy

“Take her to the prisoner’s hut. She can join Anya for now.”