At the top of the stairs, Ark held the door for Clara, then escorted her through the damp grass to a clear area, past the stables. Guards were already gathered there, those from below as well as those from above from the stables, and other buildings. They stood around a snapping fire, some even warming their hands, as if they needed such trifles. Clara saw the offender, his hands tied behind his back, attention on those dancing flames. She watched the firelight reflected in his eyes, burning like his fear.
They came to a stop and Ark gently tugged his arm free. She turned coquettish eyes up to him, but he was already moving across the lawn, back toward the small building that housed the stairs to their underground den.
With a huff of disappointment, Clara turned back to the guards. Her
