feet and the hooves of those machine
horses sounded heavily over her head. Somebody was shouting
orders—she determined it to be the red-haired brute. A cacophony
like that could only mean one thing: an enemy. Sonja's tight lips
stretched into a smile. Her rescuers had made it, and once they got
her out of here, the Knights of the Jewel would wish they had never
come to know her at all.

The
din passed by the cellar door almost as soon as it had hit. Taking
several more hits to her injured pride, Sonja inhaled sharply and
cried out, “He-e-e-yyyy!”
She
had been beaten, bruised, tied down, and was now reduced to crying
out like a damsel in distress. You'll
go back to yourself again when this is over, Sonja, she
reassured herself as she raised her voice. Her calls turned to
shouts, whichprogressed to hollers, which finally escalated into
shrieks. She thrashed against her restraints, making as much noise as
she possibly could in her pathetic condition. She had screamed
herself completely hoarse before she realized that nobody was coming
for her and never would. The sounds of hoofbeats, clashing blades,
and gunfire had grown distant, indicating that the enemy—her
rescuers—had been driven away from the palace. Well,
she
thought resignedly, letting her head drop, I'm
screwed. I am well and truly screwed.

She
closed her eyes to the distant sounds of the battle.

Lovisa!
I'm going to see Lovisa!

As
Magus buttoned up the clean red boy's shirt he had chosen from his
new wardrobe, he shuffled and danced around his new room like a
little child anticipating some wonderful event. Those feet that felt
so heavy for so many years now couldn't keep still, and Magus