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case you haven’t noticed, I am in possession of an old injury that is aggravated by overexercise.”
    Maisie started walking again, turning away from the town and heading south down the sloped motte. “Only a pair of hours. If we hurry, we can be at the ship well before midnight.”
    â€œI can’t walk for two hours.”
    She stopped and turned around, looking down at his legs. Then she looked up at the monk. “Why nae? Your leg is fine.”
    â€œIt’s not fine ,” he growled.
    She growled back. “Can I request another monk? This one seems to be broken.”
    They stared at each other for several moments before Adrian Hailsworth at last broke the standoff. “No, you can’t request another monk. This isn’t a market. It’s an abbey.”
    Maisie looked over Adrian’s tall form toward the statues in the courtyard. The ones she could still see from beyond the wall—perhaps six—were all cheeky enough to have turned their very heads to watch her depart. “Fallen Angels Abbey,” she murmured grimly.
    Adrian turned his head to see where she looked, and at his movement, the statues faced forward once more, as if completely well-mannered. “Hmm,” he mused, and then regarded Maisie with a faint look of surprise. “That’s actually more fitting than you know.”
    â€œI likely know more than you would think is fitting,” she said quickly, and then turned away and began walking down the frozen hillside again, mentally kicking herself.
    â€œCome on,” she called over her shoulder. “If I’ve nae returned by midnight, the ship will leave without us.”
    â€œIs that part of the fairy tale?” he challenged.
    â€œOh, aye,” she said, tossing her head and rolling her eyes at the stark winter landscape. Then she muttered under her breath, “Just wait until you meet me dragon.”

Chapter 3
    B arely a quarter of an hour had passed before Adrian was kicking himself for his hasty decision to leave Melk. The dark winter sky rushed toward full dark at an astonishing pace, the wind picking up and blasting mean little flurries from the low roiling clouds as the last of the meager daylight seemed to leach from the bone-chilling air.
    Ahead of him, Maisie Lindsey navigated the rocky path along the river as if she possessed hooves at the terminus of her legs rather than feet. It took all of Adrian’s concentration to merely keep her in his sight, her black cape blending into the jagged shadows as she rolled ahead of him like fog. After a full hour, his leg screamed and pulled with each step, and his buttock began to cramp.
    As far as Adrian knew, Maisie Lindsey had not bothered to glance back at him once to be sure he still followed. If she had, Adrian would have tried to engage her in conversation; perhaps then she would slow her pace somewhat. But he would be damned if he would call out to her to beg for reprieve. The way she had looked at him and called him broken outside the courtyard at Melk had stung more than Adrian cared to admit. Although as the wind rushed in his ears and his heart pounded in his chest, as night fell and the cold settled into his bones with an ache that was nearly audible, Adrian was seriously considering bending and picking up a handful of rocks to throw at her. Anything to get her to slow down.
    Sweat ran in rivulets down his temples, dripped from his nose; the cold air seared his lungs. A rock turned beneath his boot as he stepped on it and Adrian slid sideways, falling onto the path with a breathy grunt.
    He didn’t think she had noticed that he’d fallen until he heard the fast little crunches of her footfalls drawing nearer to him in the dark.
    â€œWhat?” she demanded. “What is it? What’s this about?”
    Adrian struggled to gain his feet in as dignified a manner as he could manage. It was a trial, as it seemed his right leg no longer wanted to bend at