Free Promising Light by Emily Ann Ward Page A

away.
    “You’re shape changers,” Grace
said.
    “Yes,” Myra said. “You haven’t
seen one before?”
    “No.” Grace pictured the horse-man
morphing, remembered the feel of the rope changing, and
shuddered.
    Myra gazed at her, furrowing her
brow. “You smell like one.”
    “What?”
    “You smell like my family.” Myra
paused, her eyes flickering over Grace’s lips. “It’s strongest on
your lips.”
    Grace let out a shuddering breath.
Dar. Last night in the library. “You’re related to Sir
Dar?”
    After a pause, Myra said, “Yes. He
is a distant cousin of mine.”
    Grace thought of all the things
he’d said to her about keeping her safe. “Does he know about
this?”
    Myra shrugged. “I don’t think
so.”
    “He won’t be happy,” Grace said,
crossing her arms.
    “Oh, he will be.”
    “Happy to find out you kidnapped
me?”
    Myra let out a sigh. “You don’t
understand yet… you’re very important to our family. But Lisbeth
will tell you soon.”
    She glared at Myra. “I want to know
now.”
    “You seem tired. Would you like to
rest?” Myra motioned to the cot. “You can lay down until
lunch.”
    Grace shook her head. “I can’t
rest.”
    Myra stood up. She closed one of
the flaps and walked to the other. “Well, Lady Grace, I will leave
you in here. If you can’t rest, you can come out here with me and
help me cook.”
    Grace glanced toward the clearing.
A chance at escape. At the thought of trying to run again, she
realized her exhaustion. She hadn’t slept much last night after her
meeting with Dar. “I’ll stay in here,” she told Myra.
    “If you need anything, ask Caleb
or Vin,” Myra said, motioning to the horse-man. “I’ll be out in the
clearing.”
    She closed the flap behind her. It
was dark again, and Grace was sure it would soon be stuffy again.
She lay down on the cot, taking a deep breath. She would try to
escape again, but she could hardly think about even standing. The
cot smelled like roses. She ran her fingers over the material and
soon dozed off.
     
    * * *
     

Chapter Six
     
    The man burst into Governor Peter’s
dining room, the door swinging back on its hinges. Dar dropped his
fork in surprise. The man was a servant of the prince, and he stood
against the doorpost, panting. “Sir Dar, I have an urgent message
for you and your father from the prince.”
    Dar’s father stood up, shooting Dar
a questioning look.
    “Yes?” Dar asked the servant. His
breath hitched; what could this be about?
    The servant glanced at the other
men in the room. He motioned for Dar and his father to join him in
the corridor. “Please.”
    They walked into the corridor. Dar
looked at the servant. “What is it?”
    “Lady Grace has disappeared,” the
servant said breathlessly.
    Dar swore and clenched his fists.
He nearly punched the wall next to him, but forced his arms to
remain still.
    “What do you mean?” Dar’s father
demanded.
    This was what Dar was trying to
avoid. Why couldn’t they let things be?
    “She went into the forest with a
female servant,” the man explained. “We finally went looking for
them—Thurma was unconscious, and Lady Grace was gone.” He glanced
toward the closed dining room door. “He wanted me to tell you
before the others. He thought perhaps you’d know what happened to
her.”
    Father stared at him. “Why would we
know?”
    “Father,” Dar said, his voice
constricted, “I have something to tell you.”
    Father turned toward him, raising
his eyebrows.
    Dar told the servant, “Tell our man
Greg to get my horse ready. I’ll ride back with you in fifteen
minutes.”
    The servant hesitated. “I’ll tell
the others about her disappearance first,” he said, then waited, as
if for Dar’s permission.
    “Yes, all right,” Dar said,
pulling his father down the corridor. He found a sitting room for
the two of them and closed the door behind them.
    “What is this about?” Father
asked.
    Dar took a deep breath and ran his
hands