Twenty-Six
I sneak Calla out of the kitchen door and into the gardens. Wisps of cloud move slowly across the moon, but the stars are bright, and it’s light enough for us to see our way. “Do you have one of those metal bands on your ankle?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “They were still making a small one for me.”
“Okay, so you have to be very careful not to use any magic, all right? If you do, an alarm will go off and guards will appear, and they’ll try to catch us.”
Her eyes widen. I hate scaring her, but she needs to know how serious this is. “I-I’ll try,” she says in a tiny voice.
We creep along in silence while I try to figure out what to do next. When we round a corner and come upon a row of carriages and those long black cars with the stretched middle part, it seems to me that the
