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darkness. Opening the door in the ceiling farther, the assassin exited, closing it behind him.
    Standing there, holding an almost-burned-out torch, I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into.

Chapter Two
     
     
    The last of the torch burned out, and complete darkness engulfed me. Neither voices nor the sound of commotion came from above. Throwing the useless torch on the ground, I felt around for the ladder. When my hands came across the rungs, I grabbed on and climbed up until my head hit a wooden door.
    It flew halfway open, and two startled, brown eyes were right in front of me. “What are you doing?” the assassin asked. “I told you I’d wave you up when it was clear.”
    “I got tired of waiting.”
    He threw the door the rest of the way open, and I climbed out into a small, dimly lit room. Three older men wearing mining uniforms stood staring at me.
    I wanted to ask where we were, but decided to keep my mouth shut. Did these men intend to harm me? Would they take me to Morlet for a reward?
    “Are you certain?” one of them asked, squinting at me as if I were an insect.
    The assassin nodded. “She can touch the medallion.”
    “And only Krigers can do that?”
    “Krigers or those cursed by a Heks ,” the assassin answered. “Regardless, I’ll take her to him for confirmation.”
    “I don’t understand,” another said. “She’s a girl. And tiny. Just look at your coat—it’s so long that it hangs past her knees. There’s no way she’s a warrior.”
    Sliding off the jacket, I tossed it on the ground. These men didn’t appear to be adversaries—but that didn’t mean I had to stand there and listen to them insult me. Crossing my arms, I asked, “Who are you, and why did you bring me here?”
    The three men looked to the assassin. “I’ll explain everything later,” he said. “For now, we need to get to a safe location. Morlet is searching for you.”
    “Am I a Kriger?” It didn’t seem possible—I was a girl and only sixteen. Krigers were men who didn’t come into their powers until the age of eighteen. Yet, when the word was whispered in my head, something inside of me had responded.
    No one spoke. I didn’t have time for this. “I need to get to the apothecary’s. He has my father’s medicine.” When I turned to leave, the assassin blocked my path. “Get out of my way.”
    “You have to come with me,” he insisted.
    “I don’t have to do anything.”
    “You don’t understand the enormity of your situation,” he whispered. “Morlet knows you’re the twelfth Kriger.”
    Cold fear gushed through me. If the king believed I was a Kriger, he’d stop at nothing to capture me. My hands tingled, and I curled my fingers, making two fists. “My father needs me.”
    A scratching noise came from a narrow door I hadn’t noticed before. One of the men went over, opened it a crack, and briefly spoke to someone on the other side. After he closed it, he turned and gravely said, “The soldats are already here.”
    “Where is your father now?” The assassin clutched my arm.
    “He’s at home.” How was I supposed to make my way to the apothecary’s and then to the apartment when not only was curfew going into effect at any minute, but the army was now after me? I turned and kicked the wall. This was an impossible situation.
    Grabbing my hair, I twisted it over my right shoulder, trying to think of how to accomplish everything. There had to be a way. My hands started shaking, and my stomach churned. The horror of today’s events took its toll on me.
    “The apothecary you made the delivery for, does he have your father’s medicine?” the assassin asked. He pulled my hands from my hair, forcing me to focus on him.
    “Yes.”
    “I know the apothecary you speak of,” one of the men said. “I will go and get the medicine for your father.”
    Another one added, “And I’ll fetch your father. He’ll be safe at my home. He can stay with us for the time being, and my wife will