"Do you understand me, Princess?" he asks.

"I do, but I only ask you not to treat me as if I can't do anything."

"We don't take orders from you." He waves his index finger in a circle. "We're leaving now." He takes the lead and we form a line behind him. I snag the spot at the end behind Grant. Outside the tent soldiers mill about the camp—laughing, drinking, swearing. I hear bits and pieces of stories from the battle. A few pay us attention but don't question our leaving.

The forest before us, as most forests do, appears haunted. It looks like it should be forbidden. There isn't even much of a moon tonight. Ahead of me the irritating one flicks on a flashlight. Mathew and Morse do the same.

Once in the forest, I pay close attention to the beams of the flashlight so as not to trip. I walk a little faster so I'm right behind Grant. "I never got his name."

"Damon."

I nod, adding the name to my mind. "What do we know about the rebels' leader?"

"He's ruthless. Young. From all accounts we've heard he won't hesitate to kill."

He hesitated with me. . . I let out a shaky breath. "So not one to underestimate. I bet he knows a lot of information. Maybe even some on Quill."

Grant hesitates, holding a branch back for me. "Yeah."

"Why kill him? Why not take him prisoner?" My voice grows louder without meaning to. "Interrogate him?"

"Because. . ." The wind's knocked out of me as my back slams against a tree, and I hear a crunch. Broken bark digs into my back. Damon's hands rest below my neck, pushing my shoulders into the tree. He glares at me. "He won't hesitate to slit our throats given the chance. Or"-- his hands travel up my neck and tighten-- "to snap your neck."

My heart sinks at my situation, and mercifully Morse and Marco grab him by the shoulders and pull him back.

Mathew steps in front of me. "Keep your hands off the princess. Can you blame her for wondering why she's on a kill mission?"

Damon and I stare at each other, trying to regain control of our breathing.

"Questions get you killed," he huffs.

I swallow. "Ignorance leaves you blinded with a knife in your back."

"Just keep quiet."

******

My nerves still buzz when Damon holds up a hand for us to stop.

"What's going on?" I whisper to Grant.

"There's an escape tunnel. Some of our men fell into it."

"Where?"

As if to answer my question, Damon shines his beam over an open hatch.

Marco shakes his head. "Two men fell in. One man followed with a rope. Only the single man came back. The other two died from the fall."

Damon crouches down and holds out a hand. "Rope." Morse hands it to him, and Damon ties it around the trunk of the nearest tree. "Raksana."

Confused, I step forward.

"You're going down first."

I blink. "Why?"

"Because hopefully the rebels will take a bit more kindly to a girl than us." He drops the other end of the rope down he hatch. "Now."

I stare over the edge into the blackness. "Flashlight?"

"We don't want to risk them seeing it," Mathew says.

I sit down and dangle my legs over the edge. I've done this plenty of times in training. There is no reason I can't do it now. But then I didn't have the guilt of soon killing someone weighing me down. "Okay."

Grant places a hand on my shoulder. "Tug on the rope when you're at the bottom."

"Got it." I grasp onto the rope and turn myself so my legs press against the wall of the tunnel, and my back hangs in the air. I grip the rope, breathing hard. One foot. One hand. One foot. One hand. Tediously slowly, my view of Damon obscures, and the wall of the tunnel is all I see except for the rope.

I don't even worry about what's at the bottom, because right now I just hope I reach it. Sweat trickles down my face at the strength I'm forced to exert in order to keep my grip on the rope.

I move my hand down but it comes into contact with the air. I wave my foot around and stretch it as much as I dare. I find no ground. No rope. I sigh, frustrated and anxious. My arms ache and a part of me just wants to let go. I can't call up at the men and tell them that the rope ran out. The rebels will hear. I don't think I have the strength to climb back up.

Please, Lord, don't let me die.

I release the rope and drop through the air.