The war horn was still screaming through Beaumont when I threw open my bedroom door.
The sound tore through Mara's den and struck straight through my bones.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Not a warning.
Not practice.
Danger.
My mother's box was crushed against my chest, half hidden beneath my cloak. The pendant was trapped tightly in my fist, its silver edges biting into my palm.
I hadn't meant to take them both.
I hadn't thought at all.
My body had simply known.
The box mattered.
The letter mattered.
The pendant mattered.
Talia mattered.
And I was not leaving any part of my mother behind.
Another blast split the air outside, violent enough to make the windows rattle. Beneath it came shouting. Running feet. A scream that rose too high before breaking off halfway through.
My stomach
