As soon as they were out of sight, I put my hand on my stomach and let out a shaky breath. Having my first taste of official duty left me feeling intoxicated and light-headed, but that last exchange with Konstantin made me weak. I’d never been that interested in boys, preferring to focus on my training, but now I finally understood what my friends meant when they were going on about being in love.

But all too quickly the adrenaline from talking with Konstantin began to fade away, and for the first time all night I realized how tired I really was. I hadn’t slept much the night before because I’d been so excited to work at the party, and corralling drunk Kanin townspeople was more work than it sounded.

Dad hadn’t been gone with Konstantin for long, but my feet were beginning to throb and I needed to get home and get to bed. I knew where the Queen’s office was, so I thought it would be best to go down and let Dad know that I was heading out. Plus it would give me a chance to say something more to Konstantin.

The office wasn’t far from the front hall, and I’d almost made it there when I heard a surprised yell, a man crying out, “No!” I froze at first, trying to register it, then it was quickly followed by an agonized scream.

If my head wasn’t swimming from the night, I would’ve noticed sooner. And a second too late—maybe even a split second too long—I realized that it was my father screaming.

I ran to the Queen’s office and threw open the door.

When I’ve later tried to remember that moment, I can’t see the rest of the room. It’s all a haze and a blur, but the one thing that’s focused—and it is in perfect, startling clarity—is Konstantin standing over my dad. His sword is drawn, and the blade is dark crimson with blood, as my dad lies bleeding on the floor.

Konstantin looked up at me. His handsome face, usually bright and confident, was chillingly blank. He almost appeared dead, except for his gray eyes—dark and frightfully alert.

“I’m sorry,” Konstantin said simply. “I am bound to something much higher than this kingdom, and I must complete my mission.”

“Bryn, get out of here!” Dad yelled as Konstantin raised his sword again.

Weaponless, I did the only thing I could do—I charged at Konstantin. As I ran at him, he pivoted, turning his sword on me. I felt the thin blade sliding sharply through my shoulder, but I barely registered the pain. The only thing that mattered was stopping Konstantin from killing my dad.

I knocked him to the floor, and I managed to punch once before he threw me off him. And then I heard other voices behind me. Other members of the Högdragen had been alerted by the yelling.

In a flash, Konstantin was on his feet and diving out the window behind the Queen’s desk. Glass shattered, and the cold and snow billowed into the room. The other guards ran after Konstantin, but I went back to my dad, kneeling beside him.

His shirt was stained red, and I pressed my hand to the wound on his chest, trying to stop the bleeding. Dad put his hand over mine, and his dark eyes were filled with worry.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” I told him as I tried to blink back my tears.

“No, Bryn, you saved my life.” He reached up, touching my cheek with a bloody hand. “You did amazing tonight.”

I stayed with my dad, pressing my hand hard against his chest, doing everything in my power to hold the life in him, until the medical staff came and pulled me off. They whisked him away, promising that he would be just fine, and thankfully, they ended up being right.

But after they’d gone, I stayed behind, alone in the office. My crisp white uniform was now stained red with my dad’s blood, mixing with my own from my shoulder wound. I stared out the broken window.

It was snowing so hard that it had already covered up Konstantin’s tracks. Whatever I had been stupid enough to think I’d felt for Konstantin was gone. He had been my hero, but none of that mattered now. He’d tried to kill my dad, and now I would stop at nothing until he was brought to justice.

ONE

ambushed

April 8, 2014

Three years of tracker school—including extensive combat training, courses on social etiquette, and peer integration—and none of it ever changed the fact that I really hated human high school. Every time I started a new school to get close to a new charge, I found myself rethinking my career choice.

Back before I chose to go to tracker school, rather than finishing out Kanin high school to become a farmer or a teacher or maybe a horse trainer, I remember watching the trackers come and go from missions. They all seemed so worldly and powerful. They earned the respect and admiration of everybody in Doldastam.

I imagined the kinds of adventures they must be having, traveling the world. Most of them stayed in North America, but sometimes I’d hear stories of a tracker going off to England or Italy, and some even went as far as Japan.

The prospect of traveling and protecting my people sounded exciting and noble. Then I had graduated, and I spent the next four years actually doing the job. If only I had known how much of my “missions” as a tracker involved wearing itchy school uniforms and trying to keep up on slang so I could fit in with spoiled rich kids, I might’ve reconsidered.

It was during lunch on my fifth day in Chicago, as I followed Linus off the high school campus, when I realized they were watching him, too. I wasn’t exactly sure who “they” were, but I’d spotted the car—a black sedan with tinted windows—parked nearby several times since yesterday morning, and that was too much for coincidence.