They’re here,” I whispered. “I can feel it.”

We huddled behind a ruin near one of the main avenues into town. The streets were deserted, or at least appeared to be.

“The trough,” I said, not because they were there, but they would all see

it.

Jase nodded and pulled back the lever of his launcher. Across the way,

behind the trunk of a tembris, Gunner did the same. I raised my fingers. One. Two. Three.

A simultaneous blast exploded the trough, splinters and water spraying through the air, the boom shaking the street and surrounding buildings. A rapid fire was returned—four shots—uncertain where ours had come from. A shower of leaves fell. At least two of the shooters randomly fired into the high branches of the tembris. Jase and I smiled. They were still nervous about a death angel who lurked up there. We changed our positions, moving to a low wall that adjoined the ruin. One. Two. Three.

This time the side of a toolshed disappeared.

Two shots were returned. Shattered stone from a nearby well pelted the wall we hid behind like a fierce hailstorm, and a giant limb of the tembris crashed down, narrowly missing us.

The next time only one shot was returned.

Gunner motioned to me. He was out of ammo. Jase had two shots left. He fired, taking out the north wall of the smithy. One shot returned.

He fired again, this time taking out the wall of the lumberyard. Pieces of timber flew into the air, spinning madly upward like a startled flock of birds, and then rained down again in a loud, clattering storm. Two mercenaries staggered out, both impaled with long pieces of timber. They fell to the ground, dead. No shots had been returned. We checked their launchers.

They were out of ammo, but so were we.

 

 

Jase signaled our small army. It was time to move in. When we looked back, our forces had grown. Citizens who had fled were coming back, hoes, pitchforks, and clubs in hand.

“Go back with the rear guard,” Jase said to me. “Make sure they—” “Nice try,” I replied, remaining in step with him.

“You’re a stubborn-ass ambassador,” he grumbled, looking straight ahead as he scanned the street for threats.

“I love you too, Patrei.”

Our eyes constantly moved from skywalks to rooftops to alleyways. They all seemed deserted, but we kept whatever weapons we carried gripped in our hands, ready to use. Synové complained that she felt naked without her bow, thanks to some clumsy oaf who had fallen on it. Mason rolled his eyes, and I gathered he was the clumsy oaf. But other than Wren, none of us had a weapon we were familiar with. We had to make do. The sword I carried was longer and heavier than what I was used to. I made mental adjustments in how I would swing and weight my stance. I rolled my shoulder back when Jase looked the other way. It was still stiff from when it had come out of joint.

“Do you think the rest of them have fled too?” Priya asked, eyeing the empty streets.

“The mercenaries maybe,” Paxton answered. “They had no loyalty to the king. The only stake they had in this was a salary, and they saw that go up in smoke with Tor’s Watch. Plus they have homes to return to. But those from here who switched sides—they have nowhere else to go.”

Like the king. Hell’s Mouth was his gateway to the universe—proof that he was not a nothing king like the father he had murdered. The gods had given all this to him, after all. He would never let it go. It was a legacy he was owed.

As we watched for dangers, we saw a new kind of damage. Windows were broken and businesses pillaged. The mercenaries had squeezed their promised money from the king in another way.

“Montegue!” Jase yelled. There was no answer.

When we approached the plaza, we braced ourselves for an ambush, but there was none. Only more of the disquieting silence. The plaza was empty. What game was the king playing now?

From an opposite avenue I saw Aleski and Titus leading more citizens with weapons in hand. Our forces had just doubled.

But then from behind me I heard a muffled scream and turned. It was Imara. She was looking up. I followed her gaze into the tembris.

A woman hung from a noose. Her blue dress rippled in the breeze. Her long silver braid shimmered in the sun.

Oleez.

Hot needles burned beneath my skin. I shook my head and dug my fist into my chest like I could stop the pain clawing inside me. No! Groans and cries rose from our army. Curses. Weeping.

A different kind of scream ripped from Jase’s chest. Feral and frightening. “Montegue!” His eyes were fire as he walked forward. His pace was burning rage.

“The inn,” Paxton said. “They must be hiding at the inn.”

A crazed energy ran through all of us now. Fear and caution had been snuffed out. We passed the mercantile. Like all the other businesses, it was deserted. Its striped awnings had been slashed in the ransacking melee, and the remnants snapped in the wind. Crates of strewn potatoes covered the ground beneath them.

We rounded the curve of the street, and the Ballenger Inn came into view. I had expected the street to be empty. Instead, Banques stood in the middle of it, facing us with twenty soldiers behind him. Three of them, No Neck, Divot Head, and Black Teeth, stood close together and looked like an impassable wall made of brick—but none held launchers. Just as Jase had anticipated, they had sent their strongest firepower to the entrance of town hoping to eliminate or at least cripple us. Those remaining only had weapons that were equal to ours, and our ranks outnumbered them by far.

Zane, Garvin, and Truko stood to the right of Banques, and off to his left were a dozen of the king’s other collaborators, traitors to Hell’s Mouth. In

front of them three archers knelt, arrows drawn, aimed at our crowd. They could kill some of us, but they couldn’t take us all down before they were overwhelmed by our numbers. Of course, we did have launchers aimed at them, and they didn’t know the chambers were empty.

“I’ve been expecting you, Ballenger,” Banques called. “Zane guessed it was you. Your childhood antics were legend. He was right. Not dead after all.” He stared at Paxton and shook his head like he was scolding a child. “You picked the wrong side to betray, my friend.”

“Shut up, asshole!” Priya yelled. “Your last seconds on this earth are numbered.”

Jase stepped forward. “Where’s Montegue?” he called. “Bring him out!

Now!”

“Oh, he’ll be here,” Banques replied. “Don’t worry about that. In the meantime, put your weapon down and order everyone behind you to do the same. We’re taking you into custody, Ballenger. You’re under arrest. It is the king’s duty to maintain order.”

Jase was beyond raging now. He was incredulous.

“It’s over, Banques. You’re done. The king’s done. Do you not have eyes? You have nothing but a few halfhearted soldiers who are ready to run if they’re smart.”

Banques nodded, his lower lip pursed, looking exactly like his patronizing brother. “Yes, I see that launcher in your hand. And all those behind you. You do paint a formidable picture. Nevertheless, you are still a convicted criminal of the realm, and the king does have some powers of persuasion.”

“They’re both as mad as bats,” Gunner whispered.

Zane stared straight at me, his chin lifting, confident, like he was sizing me up. Like soon I would be back in his grip and he would be whispering unspeakable atrocities in my ear again. Zane was not stupid. He could see our numbers. Why was he not worried?

My attention darted between the soldiers, the rooftops, and back to Zane. My heart sped. Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

The vial? Had Montegue found the vial?

Jase raised his launcher.

Banques nodded to the soldiers standing by the inn’s front doors and they pulled them open.

Montegue stood in the shadows within. He held something in his arms. Maybe I’m a bit of a gambler after all, and the best gamblers always hold back a bit of negotiating gold.

He stepped out into the light. No, he didn’t hold something. He held someone.

Gold.

Negotiating gold.

I couldn’t breathe.

My head throbbed with each step Montegue took. The only sound was the boardwalk creaking under his weight. There were no whispers. No one moved.

He stepped down into the street. “She’s alive, Ballenger,” he called. “Barely. She needs a healer.” His brows rose. “We’ll make a trade. You for her. You’d do that, right? She’s called for you several times. And her mother. She really should be with her. It’s your decision. I’m an honorable man. Are you?”

Jalaine lay draped across his arms, thin, pale, half dead. Maybe fully dead. I couldn’t see her chest moving.

I looked at Jase. His mouth hung open like he was trying to find words. “Give her over, Montegue,” he called. His voice was weak. The agony in

it ripped through me.

“A trade,” Montegue repeated.

“You spawn of the devil!” Priya screamed. “Give her to us!” Gunner shook his head like he didn’t believe what he was seeing. “What do we do?”

“Jalaine!”

She didn’t respond. “He’s a monster!” “We have to get her!” “We can’t trade!”

Jalaine’s head turned toward us. She was alive. Everyone’s shouts were hushed.

“Well, Ballenger?”

Jase drew in a heavy breath. He was contemplating it. I grabbed his arm. “Jase, no! You can’t—”

“She’s my sister, Kazi. I need to—”

I saw it in his eyes. He had already made up his mind.

“No!” I turned to Montegue. “You want a prisoner? Take me!” I stepped toward him, but Jase grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.

Montegue’s eyes dug into mine, a ravenous hunger in them, as if he was considering my proposal—or maybe he just loved watching me beg. You could have had everything. He shook his head. “You’re worthless to me now,” he called. “The Patrei is the far greater prize.”

“I found the papers!” I yelled, frantically trying to convince him. “I’ll give them to you! The magic! It’s all yours!”

He smiled. “You’ll have to lie better than that. Desperation does not become you, soldier. And being a fool twice definitely does not become a king. Maybe this moment will finally convince you that I am the greater leader.” He looked back at Jase. “Time is fleeting. Soon my offer will vanish.”

“I’m coming,” Jase called.

“No!” I said. “You won’t even make it to the noose! He’ll—”

Jase grabbed my arms. His eyes glistened. “Kazi, she’s my sister. I don’t want the last thing she sees on this earth to be his face. Would you really want me to be the man who doesn’t go to her?”

The answer was a knife in my heart. There had to be another way. “Jase—” My chest shook. “Please—”

He nodded to Titus and Gunner, and they grabbed my arms, pulling me away from him.

They called out the arrangements of the trade. The promises.

Jase dropped his sword and daggers to the ground and was ordered to unload his launcher as well. No ammunition fell out. Banques smiled, knowing we were out of ammo too. He waved Jase forward.

I watched him walk away, keeping his promise, Mason a few steps behind him. But Montegue won’t keep his promises, Jase! You know that! Panic overtook me. A path reeling out of control. We had a plan, Patrei. Remember? Things that you would do. Things that I would do. And things we would do together. This was not part of our plan! Jase! Stop! Please.

“Montegue!” I screamed. “I will kill you! I will use your own magic to kill you! I—”

Shhh, Kazi.

The world bobbed. Blurred. The madness slowed. My heart slowed.

There is magic in everything, only you must watch for it. It does not come from spells or potions or the sky, nor by special delivery of the gods. It is all around you.

I searched, but I couldn’t see magic. Only a monster winning.

Shhh.

You must find the magic that curls in your gut with fierce power and will not let you give up.

Hear the language that isn’t spoken, Kazi, the breaths, the pauses, the fisted hands, the vacant stares, the twitches and tears …

I scanned the street, like I was in the jehendra, desperate and hungry and searching for opportunity, gauging every twitch, every glance—the mercenaries shifting on their feet, either eager to fight or eager to run; the archers, their eyes jumping from one side of the crowd to the other, nervous; the traitors to the left of Banques, their shoulders loose, smug, sharing easy whispers with one another; Zane on Banques’s right, his hands relaxed at his sides, a satisfied smirk pulling at his mouth; Garvin the same, because it was all just a business transaction; but then Truko on the end, a step apart, his shoulders rigid, his eyes unblinking, staring at Jase. He wore two swords the way Griz did, his hand on the hilt of one of them.

… for everyone can hear spoken words, but only a few can hear the heart that beats behind them.