hesitate, however, the stone in her beak ramming into it at full speed. I gasped as she fell, dazed, the stone plummeting beside her. But her wings flicked out and caught her just in time, bringing her in for a soft landing on the lake.
Sweetie followed her lead, aiming for the exact same spot, where a spiderweb of cracks now branched out across the glass. I watched anxiously as she too caught herself before hitting the water.
Eagle flew in last, moving faster than the others to my eye.
“Not too fast,” I called, just as she smashed into the window. It shattered around her.
She disappeared from sight as her momentum took her into the room. The birds carrying me flapped hard, lifting me level with the windowsill, and I grasped hold of it, scrambling into the room in a flurry of waving arms and legs. I landed on a number of objects, all showered in glass, and winced as the shards sliced at my beautiful wrap. But at least I had avoided any larger pieces that would have pierced through to my skin.
It only took a second’s glance around to recognize where I was. Everything became clear. Stormy had led us all to the window where she had seen Leander on her scouting expeditions. My swans had known what I needed without my having to say it.
My eyes fell on the dazed Eagle, a trickle of red splashed against the surrounding glass beside her. Slipping and sliding, I stumbled over to kneel beside her.
“Come on, girl,” I whispered. “Come on.”
She stirred, opened one beady eye, and honked at me. I helped lift her to her feet where she regarded the chaos around us with a disapproving air. I laughed—a weak chuckle, but still a laugh—and managed to rise to my own feet, although I now swayed dangerously, my head spinning.
“Lady?” whispered a small voice, and my blood froze.
Peering further into the room, I could just see a pair of bright eyes and tangled hair peeking out from behind the overfull desk.
“Juniper?” A surge of energy replaced a portion of the strength I had lost and allowed me to scramble over the mess toward her.
“Lady, where are we?” Juniper bolted from her hiding spot, careening into me and nearly sending both of us over.
She began to cry, noisy tears that tracked down her smudged cheeks. I no longer had to wonder how Leander had ensured Audrey’s cooperation. I could only imagine the threats he had made.
“I didn’t know the men,” she wailed. “But Cora said to be quiet and behave.”
“What men?” I asked, but I suspected I already knew the answer.
“I don’t know,” she said. “The men who brought us here.”
Us. She had said us.
“Where’s Cora?” I looked around.
“She won’t wake up,” Juniper cried, and I almost collapsed beside her.
No. No, no, no, no, no. Not Cora.
“Where is she?” I managed to rasp out.
Juniper grasped my hand and tugged me back around the desk. Eagle followed, picking her careful way across the scattered debris.
I had little feeling left in my body, aside from the alternating hot and cold flushes that swept through me, and I no longer knew if it was a physical symptom of my impending death or a result of the shocks of the night.
We rounded the desk to find Cora sprawled out flat on the ground, one of her arms across her stomach, and the other flopped above her head. Juniper immediately let go of me and fell on her, shaking her wildly.
“Wake up, Cora,” she shouted. “Wake up.”
“Quietly, Juniper,” I said. “Quietly.” The only thing that could make this moment worse would be Brock bursting in on us.
Juniper’s hand, resting against Cora’s ribs, rose and fell. I gasped. Leaning in close, I checked again. There, another breath. Juniper was right, Cora was asleep.
I gasped in a grateful breath, steadying myself, and then joined Juniper in shaking Cora. She made a soft sleepy groan but otherwise didn’t stir.
“See,” Juniper said. “I can’t wake her up.”
“Yes, I see,” I said. “What happened to her?”
If she had been hit on the head, her non-responsiveness seemed like a bad sign.
“They came to the haven, right into Cora’s bedroom,” Juniper said. “They kept saying I had to go with them, and Cora said not without her, so then they made us both come.”
I could imagine the scene, reading between the lines of the four-year-old’s narration. My heart was in my throat, a lump that made me feel as if I might be sick.
“I