Wren pushed Phina away from her. She slid her hand up Phina's arm, pinning it behind her jade wings. Phina let out a hiss of hot air and tilted her head forward as Wren pressed the dagger into the weak spot in her neck, where she'd been instructed. Phina nodded in approval.

"Let go of my arm now," she said. Wren's breathing was ragged in her chest. She'd nearly forgotten that this was only an exercise and not really a fight. She let go of Phina's arm. Her long, slender limbs twisted out underneath her and grabbed at the edge of Wren's wings. She twisted, hard, and Wren fell to her knees with a screech.

"That hurts," she said, as Phina dug her kneecap into the small of her back. Wren tried to grab at her hand with her free arm, but Phina grabbed that too, and pinned both behind her shoulders until she could not move any longer. Phina let go. Wren rubbed at her shoulder blade and turned around. Phina lunged at her and she ducked out of the way.

"Stop," she said, as she leaned against the wall. Her lungs burned, and her throat stuck together when she swallowed. When she moved her arm, her shoulder spat a sharp word in protest. She moved it in a circle a few more times to see if it would stop. 

Phina tucked the dagger into the waistband of her skirt and leaned next to her. How many days had it been now? Four? Maybe five? Wren still didn't feel like she was making any headway, though every day it got a little harder for Phina to pin her, and every day she got a little bit less scared of the idea. She put her hands on her knees and waited for her breathing to slow.

"Do you want to try to fly today?" Phina asked. Wren glanced out over the ledge and shook her head. The idea still made her feel sick to her stomach. Phina laughed and brushed a strand of her dark hair out of her face. "You need to learn eventually. Someday it won't be an option anymore."

"I don't want to think about it," Wren said. She kept the corner of her eye on Phina. She knew, just like it always did, that the practice would start again without warning. She stood up straight and used her wings to balance her against the doorway. The sun was starting to set, which meant that soon the air would get cool, and they'd retreat inside to get a drink before Wren walked herself home. 

"You have to eventually," Phina repeated. She grabbed a waterskin she'd rested against the doorway and handed it to Wren. Wren uncapped it and took a long, greedy gulp. Phina struck like a cat. Wren didn't even notice her move until she had her arm up against the wall by the wrist and her other hand at Wren's throat. She used her hip to block Wren from grabbing her dagger out of her pocket. She glanced around for Phina's as her fingers dug into Wren's jaw.

She tilted her head up and caught the flash of metal out of the corner of her eye, still sticking up out of the waistband of Phina's skirt. She grabbed for it with her free hand and tilted it under Phina's chin. She let go of Wren's jaw and grabbed for it with her free hand. Wren gasped as the metal cut into her palm and the weapon disappeared. Her back pressed into the wall as Phina leaned towards her until their faces were almost touching.

"Nice try,"  she said. Their eyes locked. Wren could not look away. Her heart jumped into her throat. She scrambled to find her dagger or Phina's dagger or any dagger. Phina let go of her and they stayed there for a long moment, but Wren's heartbeat did not slow. Time froze. Phina brushed the fringe of hair out of her face, and the terror Wren had felt at being pinned was replaced by an entirely new type of terror.

She could hear Phina's breathing, and the blood rushing in her own ears, and the sound of the wind whistling over the rooftops. She could feel her bodyweight pressing her against the wall, and smell the perfume she used, and feel her own heart clamoring against her ribcage. She did not know why she reached for her when Phina let go of her wrist. She did not know why she didn't run when their faces got close, or why she did not protest when Phina kissed her, apart from the fact that it felt like the first right thing she had done in a long while.

She didn't notice anything else. She didn't notice the footsteps that thundered up the stairwell, or the men that burst through the door, until they grabbed Phina by the wings and hauled her away. She gasped and looked around. The world spun and she fought to get her bearings. Phina shouted an obscenity at one of the men and struggled to free herself as three more poured up the stairs after him.

Phina shot her a pleading look. Wren looked around at the men. One of them was tall, built like a mountain, with dark hair and dark eyes. The look in them made her nauseous, like he meant to do far worse to Phina than just pin her arms behind her back. He shoved her face forward. She turned to bite his hand and he smacked her across the face.

The person behind him she would have recognized anywhere. Their eyes locked, and his widened in shock as he glanced between his companion, and her, and back again. A flame ignited in Wren's chest and spread through her body until she was one with it. She lunged at him. Armand took a step back and easily shoved her out of the way.

She felt furiously for the dagger hidden in her cloak, then realized with horror that she'd dropped it during the sparring match with Phina. The men stood and eyed her. Wren searched frantically for an escape route. She couldn't go down the stairs, not when they were blocking it. She couldn't climb down, not from this height. One of them spoke and she froze.

"Get her, too, it'll make Seltus happy," the taller man ordered. Armand froze in place and opened and closed his mouth. Wren glanced for somewhere, anywhere she could run to. Her feet crept closer and closer to the ledge until her back collided with the water tower and she jumped.

"Jonah's already got a third, it's more trouble than it's worth," he said. The tall man grunted and started dragging Phina down the spiral staircase. The three other men followed him.

"I'll give you three seconds to bring her down. Show us we can trust you," he said. She stared at Armand and backed up toward the wall, trying desperately to get the knife before he could. She felt the cold steel connect with her hand and sighed in relief as she stood, expecting him to be on top of her, but he hadn't moved. She stared him down from across the expanse of roof, expecting him to grow wings or claws or to jump at her.

All those times eating together and resting together and spending time together. All of them meant nothing. She'd been completely and totally right. Her chest burned, even though she didn't want it to. Even though she wanted to prove to herself that what she'd thought had been correct. Now that it was standing in front of her, it just hurt.

"I'm not going with you," she growled.

"I don't expect you to." There were rings around his eyes. His cloak was patched and threadbare, and the leather breastplate he wore had barely any paint. Wren felt absolutely no sympathy for him. She took a step toward him and he grabbed the hilt of his sword. 

"Don't make me do this," he said. The rage flared through Wren's limbs as she lunged at him. He caught her wrist and pried the dagger out of her fingers. Her breath caught in her throat. This is it. He's going to kill me.

"Go." He released her wrist. The fear drained from her as fast as it had come.

"I could kill you," she spat. He took the dagger and flinched as he used it to cut into his own cheek. She grabbed at his throat and he grabbed both her wrists.

"Don't make me do this," he repeated. "Take the dagger and go. I'll tell them that you managed to fly off."

Wren's stomach twisted once she realized what he was asking her to do. She stared off the edge of the ledge. She hadn't realized until now how close she was to it. How little it would take to send her off. She looked at him, wide-eyed, but his face showed no emotion as he gave her a hard shove off the edge.

Wren screamed and closed her eyes. The world plummeted toward her in a kaleidoscope of colors, and her stomach fell into her feet. She opened her arms to brace against the impact. Her wings opened and caught the air. All at once the word stopped rushing so fast. She beat them frantically in a desperate attempt to keep airborne, body swinging from side to side as she approached a nearby building. She twisted out of the way just in time to keep from cracking into its brick facade.

She opened her wings and glided another hundred yards before she crashed hard into a pile of boxes set at the end of the alley. For a moment, Wren was convinced she was dead. Slowly, though, the feeling returned to her limbs. She uncurled her aching body and stood, then glanced toward the brothel. 

Men stood outside the entrance, armed with swords. She watched as they loaded Phina, Marion, and one of the younger girls into a wagon pulled by a camel. Her heart sank and tears pricked at her eyes as she realized the gravity of the situation.

All of them are going to die. I have to get out of here. I have to help them.

She scarcely noticed her aching leg as she ran down the side streets and zigzagged in the direction of Ittra's apartment.