Marcus stood up, his face pale under his tactical helmet.

He wiped a smear of soot from his cheek.

“Ma’am,” Marcus said, his voice tight.

“Are you hit?”

“I am fine,” I said, pushing myself up.

My knees were weak, but I forced myself to stand.

I looked down at Caleb.

He was staring at the dead mercenaries with wide, terrified eyes.

“You brought them into my home,” I said.

“They promised me she would be safe,” Caleb whispered.

“Who is she, Caleb?” I asked, stepping closer to him.

“Lila,” he said.

“They have her.”

“Where?” I demanded.

“The west wing,” Caleb said.

“They are using the old servant passages.”

“Who is leading them?” I asked.

He did not answer.

I reached down and grabbed his collar, pulling him up.

“Who is leading them, Caleb?”

“The man from the city,” he choked out.

“The one who bought the timber rights.”

I let him go, and he fell back onto the stone floor.

Daniel walked over to the doorway and peered into the corridor.

“We have company coming,” Daniel said.

“I hear boots on the stairs.”