T isaanah clutched the letter so hard that it crinkled in her hands. She didn’t read it aloud, but her form communicated enough. She was nearly
doubled over on the bench, reading it over and over again in silence, while Ishqa told us that the Fey had allied with the Threllian Lords on a massive assault against all four of the rebel strongholds.
“I did not expect Caduan to send such extensive Fey support to the Threllians,” Ishqa said quietly. “The fact that he did so shows that he is getting desperate. Which is why I know we have an opportunity.” His gaze fell to her hand—still glowing. “We can follow the wayfinder—”
Tisaanah cut him off. “Did any other messages make it through to the rendezvous point?”
“No.”
“You need to fly over Malakahn when we can.” “I will.”
Tisaanah muttered a curse under her breath and read the letter again.
Ishqa knelt down before her. “I know this is a great deal to process. But the wayfinder—”
I was offended on her behalf. “Give her a minute,” I snapped. “Let her think, for fuck’s sake.”
Sammerin leaned against the window frame, watching the moonlight- drenched Zagos streets. I joined him.
Brayan had not returned to the inn. He was probably attending to business of some kind, but I’d feel more comfortable if he wasn’t wandering around in Zagos in the middle of the night. The city never slept. It was just as active now, past midnight, as it had been when we arrived.
Sammerin muttered, “That man has walked by four times.” “Which one?”
“Leather hat.”
I found the man he was referring to—middle-aged, but tall and broad, wearing a brown hat and his hands buried in the pockets of a long jacket. He looked like any other of the ten-million seedy individuals around here.
That is, until he passed the door, and his eyes flicked to us, quickly but intentionally. A split second that set my teeth on edge.
I thought of Brayan’s very public confrontation earlier today, and the way that man had yelled out Brayan’s name—and thus, my name—in the middle of a crowd of Ascended-damned mercenaries.
Fuck.
“I think we should be going sooner than later,” Sammerin said, keeping his voice low. “Where’s Brayan?”
“That’s the question of the fucking day.”
Behind me, Tisaanah stood, sliding the letter into her pocket. The gold streaks that ran over it still glowed, as if light pulsed between cracks in her flesh. I hadn’t noticed it before, but it was dark enough in here that it was clear that the light was moving, too—the center point of the glow subtly shifting from her palm to the tip of her finger.
Ishqa could barely look away from it.
“It’s leading me somewhere,” Tisaanah murmured. “Where?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. Somewhere… close, I think.” “We need to follow it.”
Tisaanah’s eyebrows shot up.
“I need to go to my people,” she said. “I’m holding a letter covered in my best friend’s blood. They need my help.”
“And that is exactly why we must get that power first. You would be useless to them now. But if we had the power that wayfinder leads to, you would be able to help them.” He stepped closer. “If Caduan gets to it before we do, they will be in greater danger than ever. Think of what would have happened if he had it when he attacked Malakahn. None of them would have survived, and likely, neither would we.”
Tisaanah’s jaw clenched. She cradled her glowing hand, silent. Ishqa’s voice softened. “I will fly to them. We—”
A crash cut off the rest of his words, coming from the back of the apartment. I grabbed my sword and ran towards it, only to nearly take Brayan’s head off as he pushed past me and stumbled into the living room.
“We need to go,” he ground out. “Right now.” “Ascended above, what the hell happened to you?”
He was dripping wet. Rivulets of watered-down blood ran down the side of his face, and crimson soaked the midsection of his shirt.
Tisaanah rose. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing. I—is your hand… glowing?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Later. As we’re leaving. We have to go through the back. I got—”
Sammerin, still stationed by the front window, let out a curse. I peered out beside him. Up the street, a cluster of men were headed towards our door—and heading them up was Brayan’s friend from earlier.
I whirled to my brother. “Brayan, what did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything, except nearly get myself killed trying to get back here to warn you in time.”
So much for lying low.
I grabbed the swords from the wall and tossed one to Sammerin, then one to Tisaanah. Ishqa was already plenty well-armed.
“Do we have another one?” Brayan asked.
“Why would we have another one? Where’s yours?” “I don’t want to get into it.”
Ascended fucking above. We had what, thirty seconds before a pack of bounty hunters were at our door? I snapped my fingers and conjured flame to my fingertips. It was weak compared to what I knew I was capable of, but it would need to be enough.
I held the weapon out to Brayan. “Here. I can—”
“Don’t be a self-sacrificing fool.” Sammerin gave his sword to Brayan instead, before shooting me a disapproving glance. “I have magic that’s actually useful. I’ll be fine without.”
Ouch. I might have been offended, if he hadn’t been right.
We slipped out through the broken window in the back of the inn, landing directly in a puddle of rancid water in a back alley. Tisaanah went last. Just as I was helping her down, another crash carried from within the inn, followed by the sound of splintering wood.
Brayan swore, and urged us on.
By the time our pursuers found our escape route, we were already on the streets. At first, we tried to blend in, walking fast with our heads bowed down. That lasted for only a minute or two before shadowy figures began to close in on us from all directions.
The opportunity for stealth had passed.
We had just broken out into a run when someone first tried to grab Tisaanah—perhaps thinking, foolishly, that she was the easiest target. She’d half-gutted the man before I could even turn. But that sudden movement tipped us over the blade’s edge. It seemed like every shark circling us decided to take their shot at once.
In seconds, our stealthy escape became an outright brawl. There was no time to think, only to act and react. I cut through four people—or maybe five, I didn’t care to count—only to yank my sword from the last one and nearly collide face-first into a blade. Tisaanah saw it coming before I did and leapt in front of me to drive her own sword through his stomach.
“Thanks,” I panted, and she nodded, too out of breath to answer.
There is no graceful way to fight and run at the same time. We moved in fits and starts, devolving into bloody tangles of fighting when we were attacked, and bolting as fast as we could the moment an opening presented itself. This cycle repeated over and over again until, at last, we reached the bridge.
A bottleneck. Either the best thing that could happen to us or the worst.
The idea of running over that rotted wood to get across such an ominous body of water would have been highly off-putting in any other scenario. Now, I welcomed it, because it stood between us and safety. If we made it to the forest, we could lose our assailants.
I whirled around at the head of the bridge. Figures stepped from the shadows in every direction—from the streets ahead, from the tall reeds at our left, the dense trees to our right.
“Go.” Sammerin didn’t take his eyes off them. “Go right now. I have an idea.”
We didn’t have time to argue, not with all those hunters closing in on us. One by one, we ventured out onto the bridge as fast as we could bring ourselves to travel. With every footfall, wood creaked nauseatingly beneath my boots.
Tisaanah had made it three-quarters across, Brayan right behind her. Ishqa had taken to the air instead, and Sammerin had insisted upon going
last. We were nearly halfway to the other side when I glanced over my shoulder to see our pursuers taking their first steps onto the bridge.
“Whatever this idea is, Sammerin, we should—” “Can you burn it?”
I wished the answer was an easy yes. Once, it would have been. Now I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure.
“Do it when I tell you to,” Sammerin said.
He stopped short, whirled around, lifted his hands, and all of our attackers fell to their knees, limbs going rigid and twisted. He let out a wordless grunt of exertion, and their stiff bodies were dragged several feet forward onto the planks, tumbling over each other in a mass of arms and legs.
“Now!” he grunted.
I was ready, pooling as much of my pathetic magic that I could muster. I thrust my palms to the rotting wooden railings on either side of me and pushed fire down the paths of wood with everything I had.
I was as surprised as anyone when it actually worked. Two streaks of flame shot from my fingertips, igniting into crackling bursts when they reached the end of the bridge. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to send the planks up in flames. I silently thanked Klasto. A partial cure, this time, had been enough.
The hunters screamed. Sammerin released his hold over them with a ragged exhale.
“Now we run before this bridge collapses.”
