Book 5: Getting Comfortable

Ingrid

Trumpets blare outside, and I pray that means we’re finally approaching Som Palace. After almost two days in this Goddess-forsaken trunk, I’m shocked I can still hear them. My lungs hurt. I keep smashing my elbow into the walls—when we go over bumps in the road, so the minder doesn’t notice, but that doesn’t actually shrink my growing bruises—and I’m ravenous. We barely had enough time to stuff a blanket and some dried fruit into the bottom of the trunk, much less anything more substantial.

I’ve survived the trip, though. And I survived when my family discovered I was missing. I don’t think I’ve ever received so many mid-links at once. I definitely haven’t heard Kieran angrier than when I told him I was safe but not going to say anything else. He made Candace beg me for details.

I reminded her of the time we smuggled her into Snowcrest, and she didn’t ask any more questions.

Through the keyhole of the trunk, I’ve been watching the mind