The bush in front of me tickles my nose and I bat the sharp branches away. I've been crouching in this spot for what feels like hours, although it's been only a few minutes. With every passing second, the sound of wagon wheels moves closer. So close I think the sound is rattling in my skull, the result of being directly next to me. But that is just my nerves.

Renit pulls the tattered hood over his head, one he crafted out of the extra fabric of my tunic, and shifts from where he crouches next to me. "Wait here," he whispers. This bulking mass of a witch can crouch for much longer than I can and manages to squirm much less.

Without bothering to wait for my response, he breaks through the tree line and walks along the side of the trail like he's waiting for anyone to help him. A lost man in a large kingdom. That is the part he will play.

He's lucky. As the wagon comes into view, I see it doesn't belong to the king's men or any prison wagons. It's a supply wagon. Perfect. Renit approaches, raising a hand in the air in greeting. The man driving the wagon slowly comes to a stop, pulling on the reins of his exhausted horses.

There are no windows to the wooden wagon, only a back door housing whatever might be on the inside. Food. I hope.

I smirk at the sight of the performance Renit puts on. He forces a limp, bracing his hand against the back of his knee. He's injured so the steps required to meet the man at the wagon are unnecessary. At least that appears to be the case for the driver as he holds out a hand, ushering for Renit to stop. I'll come to you, he seems to say with that simple gesture. The driver awkwardly smiles and climbs down the steps, asking if Renit needs help. Scratching at the dry berries caked around my eyes to hide my identity, I wait.

Any second now.

If any word of our descriptions is shared throughout the kingdom after this robbery, this plan won't work. My plan, considering Renit isn't involved. But he agreed enough to keep off the trail to avoid any further threat from rebels. He still thinks they're coming after us, even after not hearing anything for an entire night.

I clamp an arm around my stomach as an unsettling growl rips through the air. I need to eat. The only thing we've found are those berries and after nearly a day, I can't hold out much longer. My energy is drained and we need proper food. Without weapons or traps, this is our only shot and Renit is doing whatever he can.

The man is older, which makes me feel even worse, but I forced Renit to promise something. He is not to hurt anyone we come across, even if they have a snarky attitude. When asked if that was necessary to add in, I told him that the unpredictability of his nature caused it.

The man hobbles over to Renit on a limp of his own, originated form his hip, and places a hand on the prince's shoulder. That's a mistake. Renit moves in the flash of a blink and the man is disabled, one arm wrapped around his back while Renit pushes him against the side of the wagon. I wince. Guilt settles in my stomach like a rock.

"Now, spitfire!" Renit shouts back over the man's pleading. I break through the bushes, berry face and all, and avoid looking at the man that is whimpering for his freedom.

I don't like this. I don't like this.

I adjust the spare piece of Renit's sleeve over my head to hide the true color of my hair. One of the strands broke loose so I stuff it back underneath the dirty and uncomfortable fabric. I yank open the door to the wagon and am immediately met by crates upon crates of food.

Standing amongst the supply, I don't know what to take first but I grab the satchel resting in the corner, dump out the contents of herbs and medicines, and begin loading in fruits, vegetables, bread and cheese until there is no room left.

My hands shake as the man continues to plead and with every word, Renit shushes him further. The old man never stood a chance in the first place, not matched against one of the strongest warriors in Esaria. Their muffled voices cleave through the wood and Renit's threats of death come along with them. I scowl and move quicker.

As I take one last look around, I spot a bow and a quiver of arrows towards the back. Haven't I stolen enough? But I'm drawn to the weapon and if that can help us gather more food...

Without thinking further, I snatch the bow and sling the quiver over my shoulder. There is nothing left, I've taken everything of value that this old man believed was his. Knowing I can never pay him back for what we stole forces the guilt to choke me, rising into my throat, and I shove it back down.

I hop down from the wagon and come around the side. Giving Renit a nod, I move to the side of the trail. "You won't speak a word of this," Renit orders. The old man nods quickly, agreeing to the terms. "If I hear any rumors of us, I will hunt you down and take much more than your supplies. Understand?"

I roll my eyes and the man nods quickly again, whimpering something of an apology. One he doesn't need to give. But that's the last second the calm is spread through the trail. An arrow whizzes past my head, a near miss, and Renit shouts at me to run. Guards. They arrived on foot.

The prince breaks from the man, shoving the old driver aside, and sprints towards me as I break through the tree line. The guards are shouting, ordering to run after us, and I'm hopping over rocks, bushes, and fallen logs like they're nothing. I don't allow myself to look back to understand this chaos unfolding, all I know is that I need to run.

Renit runs beside me, pushing me in certain directions but for the most part, allows me to steer my own course. The satchel heavy with food rocks against my body, ruining every step, but I keep going. And the quiver banging against my spine does not help matters—matching with the bow gripped tight in my palm.

The woods break around us, branches cracking and echoing shouts that send birds soaring into the air to avoid the bedlam. I leap over a small stream, stumbling over my own two feet, and Renit is there to grab my arm and push me along. All in that moment, he takes the bow from my hand to remove some of the weight and slings it over his shoulder.

This was a stupid plan. The trail is busier than normal, people are searching for the prince with all the resources they have left. That means foot guards and soldiers. And they think we're robbers. There's no convincing them otherwise.

My lungs burn with each step and my ankle, twisted at some point after stepping on a rock wrong, is aching. Renit is in much better condition, he grabs onto the trunks of the trees to hoist himself further, twisting around the logs old and new.

Shouting erupts from behind and an arrow slams into the trunk I run by, narrowly missing my head for a second time. I must look like a fool, a cover over my head and smooshed berries around my eyes. This isn't the pristine time to wipe them away. A few strands of my hair have ripped free from the hold and stick to my dry, crackled lips while the rest flutter around my eyes. I knew I should have cut it for the engagement ceremony, I wouldn't be having such a problem now.

Renit slows to run behind me in case any of the other guards think about shooting another arrow. We're running off track, any further and we'll lose time on our journey back to the capital. We don't have much of it left, we've squeezed the life out of luck and time—this isn't helping.

With every few steps, an arrow narrowly misses. We can't risk using our power, that's as good identification as anything. "Break left," I pant.

I grab onto Renit's shirt and tug him in that direction. But those guards are immediately on our path, seemingly moving faster. A hollowed-out trunk, that's what we need. It'll be the perfect hiding spot and if we slip through, undetected, the guards will keep going and leave us there. My ankle barks in pain, telling me it can't go on much longer, but I can't give in.

Keep going.

An arrow grazes my shirt sleeve, drawing blood, but I don't feel it. Instead I see it—rather the arrow narrowly missing lodging into me. A wound better placed than Renit's, one that would be less destructive. But also a wound we can't afford.

The prince ducks around those arrows, much more skilled than me, and avoids every hit meant for his spine. They have decent accuracy but to hit two moving targets is nearly impossible unless you're someone like Tesha. If she were here, we'd already be dead.

Renit grabs my arm, tugging me forward when my entire body threatens to give out. We need to separate ourselves before we think of hiding. I yank out of his grip and move faster, ignoring the pain and the blood, and jump over everything in my sight. No more avoiding obstacles. I let a hiss escape through my teeth as my ankle rolls again on another rock.

There are only three guards, from what I saw. If Renit could kill them...no they'd recognize who he was in a heartbeat and we can't take any of those chances. So I sprint faster, allowing the wind to carry me farther than I thought possible. The woods open up around us, a death trap for two people trying to escape, and I shove Renit to the right. It's a thicker cluster of trees, one they won't be able to find us in if we manage to break away through the spindly branches.

I block the cuts against my face, those branches coming into play. But it's not me that finds safety within this thick stretch of woods. Instead, it's Renit—he tugs me to the side, directly into one of those hollowed out trunks. The space is barely big enough for the two of us and he quickly throws a finger up over his lips, warning me to be quiet.

We breathe heavy, our chests rising and falling within inches of each other. Heat pours off of him, warming my forehead, and we wait. Footsteps thunder past so loud I can hear the ringing of their breaths in my ear and when their loud movements recede, the woods are quiet again.

I allow myself to pant and brace my hand against the inside of that trunk to steady my shaking body. Renit peers out the trunk and observes for any other guards that happened to be in the area, responding to those distress calls, but there is nothing. Birds chirp again and the branches rustle together in the sap scented breeze.

"We'll hide out until we know they're gone," Renit whispers through panted breaths. "They'll come back this way, searching for us, but we'll stay hidden."

I can barely focus on what he's saying, that plan already unfolding, as I pull my arm forward and examine the deep gash from the arrow. Not as narrow of a miss as I thought.