Nathaniel had only returned hours after Fera's departure. I had been feigning optimism all day. I lost all incentive to pretend things would work out when I noticed Nathaniel's subtle shaking of head at Aadya.

      I gave them privacy. I pretended that I was going up to my room to wallow in self-pity, while instead I lingered outside the living room to eavesdrop.

      "No one?" Aadya exclaimed in bewilderment.

      "I spoke to everyone that would listen," he said. Despite the situation, a soft smile played on my lips when I realized what he meant by important meetings that morning. "They're all afraid. They're trying to ignore the stirring of the Duha, but they can't shake the uneasy feeling that something's coming. Her timing couldn't be any worse."

      Aadya sighed. "What about Ailbert?" she asked. "Did you get a hold of him?"

      "I did. He could barely look me in the eyes. I've never seen him so rattled. He wants nothing to do with this... I'm thinking he may even vote against the prison sentence."

      "Ailbert would never go to that extent."

      "You didn't see him," Nathaniel said. "He's terrified. He looked worse than he did during Finley's trial."

       A short silence overcome the two, before Nathaniel started again, tone more cautious. "Evina stopped me on my way out," he said, voice so quiet that I had to inch closer to the door. "She said Ubel stopped by the house this morning."

      Aadya was silent. "Do you think Ubel is threatening Ailbert?" she asked after a few beats.

      "The Gladstone's have been treading dangerous waters for years. They're an easy target... But why does Ubel care so much about Avalynn? He didn't act this way during Finley's daughter's trial."

       "As you said, something is stirring. If he's behind it, he may fear that she was sent to stop him."

       "Sent by who?" Nathaniel scoffed. "You know she's clueless. She's not conspiring with anyone."

      "Ubel believes in the meddling of the forces... Just because she doesn't know the part she's to play, doesn't mean she will not have an important part to play."

      "You too?" Nathaniel exclaimed in disbelief. "Aunt Aadya, you can't possibly believe the Force of Zid is involved."

      "You said it yourself that the girl's timing is quite unfortunate," she reasoned. "Lahila was the only of our kind that was brave enough to face Ubel head on. And coincidently, she was the sole child of the Legion with special gifts."

      Special gifts? Like mind reading...

      "You think Avalynn was sent to stop Ubel? That my finding her was somehow orchestrated?" he asked. I tried not to be offended by his incredulous tone. I mean, of course, I too thought that I was the last person who could help them, but did he have to be so blunt about it?

      "She's gone sixteen years without being found," Aadya pointed out. "If she's anything like her mother, I would think it a mistake to underestimate her. A daughter of Odgen could mean great change."

      There was a long pause. I imagined Nathaniel was attempting to find a polite way of telling Aadya that she was out of her mind.

      "I want this resolved as much as you do, but I don't think that she's the solution... I think you're searching for a greater reason to fight for her. I know you cared for Finneas, and I understand that you don't wish Avalynn to share his faith. Neither do I, but I beg you not to get your hopes up. The trial may not go as you think it will."

       "I appreciate your concern, however it's unnecessary. This will work out."

       Nathaniel sighed. "Just please be careful," he requested. "Do you really think Fera will pull through?"

       "She's not happy about it. She'll surely wait until the last minute, give the other clans the chance to step forward, but I'm quite certain that she will take the girl under her wing if she's her only hope."

      "That leaves much—"

       I didn't stick around for the rest. I had surpassed my capacity of depressing information for one day. If Fera was my only hope then there was no hope.

       Locking myself in my room, I gathered every piece of fabric and blanket I could find. I was going to escape before I was sent to the prison of death. Was I convinced that my escape would come back to bite me in the ass? Absolutely. Would I do it anyways? Absolutely.

      Tying blankets, sheets, and pieces of clothing together, I waited until the sun set to creak my window open.

      Quietly pushing the bed to the edge of the room, I tied my handmade rope around the bedpost and threw it out the window. It wasn't a far drop. Still, I hoped the linen lasted until I could reach a safer distance. I didn't want to run away with a twisted ankle.

      Grunting with effort, hands burning as I slid down the rope, my ungraceful escape further proved my belief that I wasn't cut out to be a child of the Legion, warrior thing.

      Landing with a loud thump and no injury, I smiled victoriously.

      Praying that I wouldn't come across a lost soul, especially not a Slon, I turned towards the woods with determination. My plan was to walk the edge of the woods until I found safety.

      Had my blood not been rushing in my ears with adrenaline, heart not thrumming wildly in my chest, I'd have noticed the familiar tingle in my mind that announced another being's presence.

      I came face to face with Aadya and Nathaniel, sitting by a lit fire. Flames dancing in identical grey eyes, Aadya cocked a threatening brow while Nathaniel fought a snicker. Slowly I averted my wide eyes from the two, gaze moving to the rope I had just descended to the quality of my sneakers, to the empty field and then finally back to scary grey eyes.

      There was no explaining this. Shoulders slumping, I smiled sheepishly. Aadya's hard gaze didn't flicker.

      "I'll just go back to my room," I mumbled awkwardly. "If you don't mind, I'll use the front door this time."

      Aadya nodded coolly, neither her nor Nathaniel made move to follow me. The idea that I could attempt another escape didn't faze them. They knew that they'd catch up. Dignity an all-time low, I willed myself to walk away with my head held high. Could they blame me for trying?

      "Ava?" Aadya called as I neared the corner of the house.

     Warily I turned around.

      "There is hope for tomorrow's trial, but you would destroy every bit of that hope by running away."

      "I appreciate your kindness, but I would prefer that you not sugar coat my faith," I said. "Unless one of the clan leaders has a change of heart, there is no hope."

       "The meeting with Fera went well," she said. "She promised to consider it and Nathaniel approached many—"

       "I know," I interrupted softly. "I overheard. No one wants me. You think Fera is my only hope, but I know that she's not an option."

      "What makes you think—"

      "I just know... Fera was only being polite. I saw through her bluff. She feels bad for me, but she has no intention of placing her family at risk to save me."

      Aadya was silent. She watched me carefully, thin brows furrowed in thought. Her invasive thoughts washing over me in a harsh wave, I fought to compose myself. Like knocking on a door to request entrance, somehow, she suspected the mind reading. I had often experienced the curious thoughts that I assumed were a Hello? Can anyone hear, me?, or unsure yet firm I know you can hear me, but never had someone so surely believed I could read their thoughts. It was deeply unsettling. My heart skipped in my chest. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and attempted to appear nonchalant. I was already in deep trouble. I didn't even want to imagine what my faith would become if word was heard of the mind reading.

       "Can I go now?" I asked. Easing her studious stare, she nodded.

      "Rest well," she said. "I know you think that I'm overly optimistic... You're probably right. The trial will very likely go badly, but I will not let you rot in that cell. I will not let you share your mother and brother's faith. That is a promise."

       I almost let myself get my hopes up again. Aadya spoke with certainty and promise. She was stubborn and determined, too prideful to admit defeat. But some things just can't be fixed. There were some things you couldn't run from.