I don't know how much time has passed before I stop crying. The entire time, my mother consoles me and Celestine does her best to make light of the situation. Each of us sports a titanium band around our wrists. Even our father—who wouldn't hurt a fly and couldn't, not with his mortal power.

The prison wagon with only a barred window on the door bumps along a dirt trail heading towards the capital. Signs along the trail all say the same thing. We're heading towards our doom. We'll reach Mailan in a matter of days and the royal family will seal our fate. The king wants me to be the prince's Grounding and for the rest of my family—I don't know what will come of them. They're as good as dead if Renit has anything to say about it.

We've been going for a day now and there's no end in sight. The only time they have allowed us out is for three stops a day: morning, midday, and evening. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But we're not given full meals. Instead, we receive the scraps from full meals the guards have eaten. Even the prince has to share his scraps, less than everyone else.

The first time they let me out, it relieved me to not find the king's face amongst our company. Hard, brutal lines of his dark features are a distant memory in my mind now. If he had tagged along, our blood would boil already. Literally. The king can boil blood inside of a living being. The witch of blood manipulation.

Without the king in our presence, a threat still hangs in the air. Every time we stop, the prince grabs my chains and yanks me out of the wagon without care. Twice now I've tripped, nearly fallen, and Renit has done nothing but shake the chains and force me to move quicker. My father had tried to stand up for me, in which Renit punched him in the nose, broke it, and nearly knocked him unconscious. After that, no one had objected to the bullying.

Renit is the one taking me to relieve myself, despite how embarrassing that is. Although I hate him and what he did, I don't want to be indecent around a prince. Trying to focus while he's mere feet away is the most difficult part, especially when he ushers me to work quickly otherwise I'll be walking instead of riding peacefully in the wagon. As though one option is better than the other.

Our meals are merely strips of leftover cheese and bread. My stomach growls to the point I can barely stand. Every time I close my eyes to sleep, taking one last look at the stars through the barred window of the wagon, I wonder if I will wake again. Would it be a relief if I didn't? Would the king spare my family if there was no longer a use for me?

After two days of sitting on the wagon benches and jostling with every bump the wheels hit on the trail, I find the strength to stand and look out the window. My hands shake with the lack of nutrition but I know we'll be stopping soon and any scrap of food will make me more comfortable for another few hours. Our stomachs haven't been full for years so maybe I'll be alive longer than I expect.

It's not long before the wagon, pulled by two stallions, is steered to the side of the trail and stopped in the shade of a pine tree. The guards unload themselves, shaking the wagon as they do so until the door opens, and the prince is the first face I see. He doesn't look at Celestine or my parents as he extends a hand towards me.

When I don't budge, he growls. "Get out or I yank you out."

Celestine mutters threats and I kick her in the shin. Renit doesn't seem to care she's there. Celestine is no one's Grounding and my parents...they have no use. They're merely blockades in the way of what the royal family is trying to accomplish. If all of them are like Renit, I'll be yanking out my hair in the next few days. Flee, perhaps. I'll try to flee.

Instead of protesting, I stand on shaky knees. When he extends his hand to help me down, I bat it away and ignore the hiss of pain shooting through my back. Sleeping in a wagon didn't bode well during the night before.

Guards help my family as well before we're sitting on the side of the trail. While they eat their lunch, we wait for what they leave behind. No one looks at me and I don't look at them. Surrounding us are the tallest pines I've ever seen, and the air is the cleanest I've ever breathed. The trail to the capital is beautiful and I should have listened to the rumors despite what everyone said when they came to Arego.

My home. Arego. Now it's nothing more than rubble. Destroyed by the prince sitting across from me.

I will myself to meet his eye and he's already watching me, slowly tearing off a piece of bread from the loaf he's been chewing on. His silver eyes are bored, like I'm nothing more than a mouse, and I look away to avoid a staring contest I know I'll lose.

My mother clears her throat. "Your Highness, is there anything you can tell us about why we're on our way to the capital?"

Renit scoffs around the chunk of bread in his mouth. "There're many reasons but I'll let my father go over those with you. It's not my place to share information, nor is it for you to ask for that information." There isn't a hint of joy in his words. The prince looks at my mother like he hates her. If only he knew the size of her heart.

"Please, whatever you do, leave my daughters out of the discussion. They're innocent, good girls. They've done nothing wrong," my father pleads.

"Actually, your daughters are who my father is most interested in. Why do you think I came to your little village in the first place? To kill your people, yes, but also to take this one." Renit points in my direction with a piece of bread. All eyes study me closely. "As far as we know, she's the only witch of ground in the kingdom. And that's all you need to know."

My father blinks, putting the pieces together. There is nothing kind in his smirk as he says, "Losing control of your power, are you, prince?" I've never heard such an intimidating tone in his voice, such a cold rage. Celestine and I exchange wary glances at the same time a guard hovers a hand over his sword.

"I'm not losing control of anything." A sideways grin appears on Renit's face. "I suggest you control your temper. Otherwise, I'll leave you here to the wolves."

I place a hand on my father's arm before he can speak and with that simple touch; he pulls himself back to the man I've grown up with and loved. Renit snarls but he doesn't attack, nor does he comment on my father's attitude. Instead, he tosses half his loaf of bread into my lap and grunts while standing to retrieve fresh water from the stream.

Instead of hogging the bread for myself, I split it between the four of us, leaving barely more than a sliver in my hand. But that's what we've been doing these past two days. With everything we get, it's split into four equal pieces—three if my mother is feeling considerate. We force her to eat because we promise these won't be her last meals.

Renit disappears for a few minutes, likely to relieve himself in peace before he returns and tugs on the chain for me to stand. There's nothing else I can do as he leads me towards the trees, away from the guards and my family, and stands around a trunk as I do my business. Once I'm done, he doesn't give the pleasantries of cleaning and instead orders me back in the wagon with my family, where they share their scraps with me.

Although I've eaten, my stomach aches.

Two days later, the trail isn't as quiet as it once was. We pass another wagon or carriage every few hours and sometimes, one right after the other. At the sight of the royal seal over Renit's chest, innocents turn in the other direction. I've heard of kingdoms that fawn over their princes or even the king himself. Not here. Royalty trains the citizens to look the other way when they're in the presence of royalty.

Celestine sits next to me on the bench, her head rested against my shoulder. Quiet snores escape her lips as she slumbers for the first time in two days. None of us got any sleep as the guards didn't bother to stop for the night and instead kept going. The horses were strong enough to do so and there we were, lying on the floor of the prison wagon as a family, trying to avoid banging our heads against the splintered wood. It hadn't worked well.

With every aching second, my heart doesn't want to go on. I want to leave my family out of this and if I can, I'll strike a deal with the king to let them enjoy normal lives. Anywhere, even if they have to live in Lona—the farthest possible city from here. Isolated, full of freaks. But at least they'd be alive.

The wagon jumps over a large rock in the trail and I bang my head against the wall. Celestine snorts herself awake, looks around, and frowns. Like all of it was a bad dream, and she was hoping to wake up again, back at home.

Four days ago, when I finally found the strength to stop crying, she told me a witch of water, a guard of the kingdom had found them. They made it to the river, but the guards were already waiting for them there. Bren had put up a fight, but they tossed him aside, unconscious, and took Celestine away.

She doesn't know where he is now and neither do I. It sickens me.

My best friend could be alone or dead after that fight. If there's anything left of the village, he'll be the one to bring the people together while we're away. But we'll get back to the place we called home.

The rough dirt turns to smooth stone and my stomach leaps into my throat. Celestine scrambles for the small window and peers out at the street of the capital, a city we haven't seen in years. Voices flutter around us and I hold my breath, waiting for the verdict.

"We've made it," Celestine breathes as she turns back to face us.

Four days in this rutting wagon and it ends here.

"We need to think of a plan. Things may go wrong," my mother declares. Always the fighter. Always the one to think two steps ahead.

I swallow down my fear as Celestine sits back down next to me, her hand on my knee. Does she know she's trying to comfort me at this moment or is it just pure instinct? "The castle is the most guarded building in the capital. If we do anything, they 'll shoot us down in seconds," I retort.

"We know that." My mother is on edge. "But since the king needs you, there's no going back. But for us..." Her voice trails off and my father nods.

They don't know their future. The inevitable we've been avoiding hangs over us like a noose and I find it hard to breathe. My chest tightens but I ignore the fear threatening to drag me under and instead take Celestine's hand in my own. She's my only connection to sanity and without her, I'd be a mess—huddled in the corner and shaking.

"I'll try to strike a deal with the king. The only way I'll cooperate is if he lets the three of you go. I don't care if he sends you far away or the closest possible. Get out alive," I tell them.

My sister's face turns grim, but she nods when I squeeze her hand. If I wasn't mistaken, we were each other's Grounding. As good as there was, nothing is stronger than the bond of blood.

"We'll be right with you," my father reassures. All three of us nod in unison.

I listen to the whispers of the citizens, their questions about who could be in the wagon. They ask themselves all the way to the end of the capital. I peer out the small window as men dressed in the colors of the kingdom open two iron gates to make way for the prince. He ignores every citizen in passing, bowing to him.

My eyes don't quite believe what they're seeing. Past the metal gates is a winding road traveling up, up, until a large castle made of glass and stone looms on a hillside. My breath is taken away from my lungs as the horses pull the wagon up that road lined with gorgeous flowers tended to by witches of the garden. I'm tempted to tell Celestine but I don't know if she'll be able to use her power again.

"What do you see?" My mother asks, eagerly.

My hands wrap tighter around the iron bars as the road winds left and right, past flowerbeds and beautiful green trees. This place...it's amazing. But it's also a trap. The sunlight reflecting off the glass is distracting and intimidating. Everything here—there's a good and a bad. And I'm tempted to only look at the good, at the beauty, at what could be my future.

I turn back to my family; eagerly waiting for my answer. "I see a nightmare."