Lira’s heart thundered in her chest. The thud and suck of panicked footsteps slamming into wet earth resounded in her ears, the shouts of the villagers echoing behind her. Her feet slipped and slid on the marshy ground, cold water soaking into her boots, but she daren't stop. If the villagers caught up with them, well… They all knew the penalty for thieving.
At best, they'd each lose a hand.
Spitting to one side, Lira ignored the thrum of blood rushing in her ears, the hammering of her heart, and ran until her legs burned.
What a dindo she'd been to agree to come on this fool's mission! She glared at Elysia running ahead of her, her friend’s black hair billowing out in a tangled mass of beads and feathers. Lira cursed herself again for allowing her friend to convince her. What did she care if Inir, who had never so much as looked at Elysia before, had invited her along?
But Elysia knew her well.
“There'll be money in it, Lira,” she’d said slyly. “Think of what a little extra coin in your pocket could do for you. Think how disappointed you'd be if you realized the villagers were just a bunch of skinflints who didn't want to spend their hordes of precious coin on the likes of us.”
“Daidi!” Lira swore, her cheeks heating at the memory of having been so easily manipulated.
She had known the villagers didn’t have coin to spare. When the circus had performed the previous night, there were no spare coppers for the spiced sweets, nip of moonshine, or novelties for children that the travelers usually peddled after each show. Lira had sold no elixirs that promised wealth, strength, or beauty. Everyone in the circus had grumbled that even on their worst nights, they usually took more.
Lira stumbled, her ankle turning on an unexpected dip in the ground. “Daidi!” she swore again, gritting her teeth and forcing herself to keep moving, the smell of the sour, steaming swamp filling her lungs with every rasped breath.
Gods, she was tired of running.
Yet even now, knowing there had been nothing worth stealing, Lira's heart swelled at the thought of the clatter of coins dropping onto a table. At the promise of taking one step closer to getting away from this. Away from Elysia and the others, away from the drudgery and poverty of the circus, away from the violence of the circus masters.
Away from the running.
Lira shot a fierce look up ahead to where the sun peeked over the frost-capped hills. It wasn't far now. She just had to reach the slopes. And hope the wagons hadn't pulled off without them already.
A shriek sounded up ahead, making Lira falter.
Elysia had sunk deep into the boggy ground. She wriggled frantically, raking her fingers through the swamp to try and get some hold to pull herself out. But there was nothing. The ground was a dark green pool that sucked at her skin each time she raised her arm.
Elysia twisted around, her wide, dark eyes frantically searching for any of the others who might have seen her fall.
Lira's mouth set in a firm line as she dragged her gaze away from her friend. Elysia had known the risks of going back to the village. Gods, she was the one who had talked Lira into coming on this stupid raid in the first place, and all just to impress Inir. If Lira stopped to help, all it would mean was that she would be caught, as well. Two hands lost instead of one.
Plus, even if she could pull her free from the bog before the villagers caught up with them, Elysia was faster than Lira. She’d race ahead of her again, and Lira would be left to deal with the wrath of the villagers…
Lira inhaled another lungful of freezing air and tried to tell herself to keep placing one foot in front of the other. But even as Lira’s mind insisted she ought to leave Elysia behind, her legs slowed, brow wrinkled with worry as she looked over her shoulder to see who else might be close enough to help. The villagers would soon be near enough to realize Elysia was stuck fast where she’d sunk into the ground.
Lira made one last effort to pretend she didn’t care, digging her hand into her pocket and fingering the pitiful handful of coins she’d come away with. She touched her bag, which held a warm cherry pie she had swiped from where it had been cooling on a