Chapter 2 A BOLD PLAN: I THOUGHT YOU'D BE SMARTER

LYRA'S P.O.V.

Mud, I'll say, has become my signature scent. I'd laugh if I had the energy. And the courage. Or maybe Kael wasn't pacing around like some sadistic bird of prey.

But I have a plan. A cunning, thrilling, barely cobbled-together escape plan. Why not? It's been three weeks, and if I don't try something soon, I might lie down in the mud and let Kael stomp me into it. Besides, if I must endure one more of his smug "debt-is-salvation" speeches, I'll willingly hurl myself into the Outer Waste.

The plan is simple. Bold, daring, practically foolproof (I tell myself). All I have to do is slip past the guards, dodge the hounds, scale a twelve-foot wall, and sneak into the forest before anyone notices. See? Easy. Practically a walk in the park. Or, you know, a walk through the festering, grimy hell cape surrounding this prison.

But I'm not giving up before I even start. Not when freedom's so close I can taste it-like a phantom hint of clean air and something that doesn't smell like sweat and regret.

That night, when others are asleep, snoring in sad little heaps against the walls. The moonlight is out, just enough to illuminate my prison: rows of hollow-eyed, hunched-over souls who've long since lost their fight. And if I have anything to say about it, I won't become one of them.

First step: act casual. It was a pleasant midnight stroll to the water bucket by the gate. Nothing suspicious. It's just a girl hydrating. Even though Kael's moronic guards are lounging around, barely awake, with half-closed eyes, they're still a threat. The guard by the gate raises his head, glancing over at me with his blank, soul-dead stare. I offer him a little nod, real friendly-like. The kind of nod that says, *Look at me, model prisoner.* He grunts, unimpressed, and goes back to doing absolutely nothing.

I waited for him to look away, and then I slipped into the dark along the fence. My heart was beating fast now like it was trying to break free from my chest. I can feel sweat trickling down my back; my nerves are buzzing with the realization that I'm doing it.

*I'm doing it.*

I sneaked towards the gate, ignoring the squelch of mud trying to hold me down like Kael sent them to hold whoever was trying to break free.

Then I heard a voice.

The unmistakable bark of Kael's voice.

*Perfect,* I think, because what's an escape attempt without the horror of some oversized, muscle-bound beasts with teeth the size of my fingers?

Kael's voice sounds closer now. I ran left, just enough to keep me hidden. But then a bright light blinds me, and I freeze. It's one of the guards, and he's got that look-the one that says I've been caught. He grinned like he had been waiting all night to ruin someone's life.

"Where do you think you're going, Lyra?" he sneers.

"Oh, you know... I just thought I should go for a nice evening jog. Cardio and all." I lied

Before I could blink, he grabbed my arm, dragging me back into the camp. I struggle, thrash, even bite, but he's built like a wall, and my efforts only make him laugh. Soon, he hauls me into the open area where Kael sat waiting, holding a torch and casting shadows over his twisted face.

"Ah, Lyra," Kael purrs excitedly. "Trying to cut and run, are we?"

I bite back a snarky reply, which only makes his smirk widen. *Of course* he's enjoying this. Kael lives for moments like these when he gets to stand over us, grinning like he's some dark, twisted god of misery.

"You know, Lyra," he says, circling me like a vulture. "I thought you'd be smarter than this. Trying to escape... now that's just disappointing. And I don't take disappointment lightly."

He nods to the guard, who throws me to the ground, and before I can even think, a boot slams into my side. Pain explodes in my ribs, sharp and searing, and I bite back a cry, clenching my fists so hard I think I might break my fingers.

But Kael's not done. He gestures to his other guards, who drag me up by my arms, holding me still while Kael leans in, his breath hot and rank against my ear.

"Thought you could outsmart me, hmm? Runoff into the night, escape your debt?" His voice is low, mocking, each word a tiny, precise cut. "Well, let me show you what happens to clever little runaways."

With a flick of his wrist, Kael nods to one of his men, who grabs a whip. Seeing it sends me a fresh wave of dread, but I set my jaw, forcing myself to meet Kael's eyes. I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me beg.

The first crack of the whip splits the air, and the pain is blinding like fire scorching down my back. I bite down on my lip, tasting blood, and force myself not to scream. Each strike is worse than the last, tearing into me and leaving my skin raw and bleeding. But I won't scream. I won't give him that victory.

I'm barely conscious by the time they're done, slumped in the dirt like a broken doll. My body's screaming in pain, every nerve frayed and burning, but I hold onto that last shred of defiance. I won't let him see how much he's hurt me.

Kael crouches down, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. His face is twisted with pleasure.

"Remember this, Lyra," he whispers, his voice soft but cold as death. "You're mine. No amount of defiance, no little escape plan, will change that."

Then he nods to his guards, who drag me to my feet, half-carrying, half-dragging me to a dark, cramped cell. They throw me in, slamming the door shut behind them, leaving me alone in the pitch-black. "Who knows what he's planning to do to me tomorrow? I might as well end things now; Kael will do that anyway." I thought.