Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
ALLIE
M y steps quickened as the hot coals stashed in the metal soap dish I’d pilfered from the wash room heated up my thigh through the satchel.
Everything I had on me was stolen.
Borrowed, Vegheara. Borrowed. You’ll send them back or pay for them after you’ve reclaimed your throne and settled things in Aquila.
No matter how much I repeated that to myself, it brought no comfort.
Only more guilt.
The borrowed boots smacked the cobblestones, the vibration shooting straight through my frazzled body.
Three days of stuffing myself with Mrs. Thornbrew’s amazing cooking–I was woman enough to admit I’d miss her venison stew for the rest of my life–sleeping, plotting, and not much else, I still felt weak.
Weaker than I should have been.
Weaker than I needed to be on this journey.
But it was my only shot at reclaiming my Clan.
The streets felt even emptier than usual, the city still stirring awake in the grey morning hours.
Since the girl had found me so embarrassingly easy, I’d been forced to seek a different path today.
I still didn’t know how I was followed. The Commander said the sky sees, but that…that was impossible, right?
The clouds looked fiercer than usual, gathering in menacing jagged lines above, as if trying to cover us all.
As if the crater felt I wanted to get out and wanted to keep me here.
The constant wind didn’t hiss today, making the silence more eerie as I navigated streets I’d never been down before.
My heartbeats pattered something awful in my chest as I neared the market buildings, lower and bulkier than the rest.
At least there were no barks or massive paws hitting the pavement–
The hairs on the back of my neck stood as I neared the back of the sweets shop.
The cobblestones pulsed purple right underneath my boots.
I jumped back as if scalded.
The cats on the window ledges and fence hissed and arched their backs.
The purple light slashed together in one jagged line, its sharp head aimed straight at me.
For a few frozen moments, I stared at the line of light bleeding from between the cobblestones and I swore it stared right back at me.
Predator and prey.
It pulsed between me and the corner I needed to rush down on.
I fisted my palms.
This wasn’t normal magic–not any I’d seen, at least.
No caster, no clear origin, no purpose.
Other than watching me, perhaps.
Hyperaware of my every breath, I slid to the side.
The line vibrated and flashed in front of me.
I clenched my jaw and took a bigger side-step, this time to the other side.
The flash jolted after me.
I exhaled loudly, my breath turning to smoke.
In the distance, I heard the honey carriage's rickety wheels creaking down the road.
Shit.
My jaw clenched to the point of hurting.
I only had a few minutes to escape this city.
Time was running out.
I narrowed my gaze on the purple line, a stubborn thrumming, living thing.
But I was more stubborn.
I was no doe waiting to be hunted–and nothing and no one in this world would keep me from my Clan.
I jumped to the side.
It followed.
I twirled around to confuse it.
It zapped straight in front of me.
It didn’t just block me. It felt like it chided me. Like it knew what I was about to do and was having none of it.
We danced our strange, magical dance to the tune of the carriage’s creaks.
Finally, when they stopped, I propelled myself and vaulted over the line, landing behind it in a crouch that knocked the air out of me.
White spots danced in front of my eyes from the strain.
Before I had a chance to stand, the maddening hum began, so loud and fast I had to cover my ears.
It rattled my bones and bled into my ears.
A great big gaping roar erupted in my head.
I swore the hum was hissing at me.
Stay.
Stay.
STAY!
“NO!” I bellowed. “My Clan needs me!”
Instantly, the hum vanished.
I slowly lowered my hands, ears still ringing, and looked around.
No hum, no purple light, no screech.
Only the cold and cats, looking down at me like I was going insane.
Perhaps I was.
Maybe I’d imagined the light and the noise.
Maybe it was The Commander’s way to track me. He had left to deal with the Serpents, but maybe his warriors would descend from his mighty fortress, thunder down the streets, and drag me back kicking and screaming.
I didn’t have time to fear that option.
The rickety carriage creaked to a halt.
If I didn’t act now, I’d never get to.
All I could hope was that nobody heard my scream–or maybe I’d imagined that, too.
I crouched next to the left, shadowy corner of the sweets shop.
I didn’t breathe.
I didn’t blink.
I just hoped.
The embers in my satchel were starting to cool.
The horse neighed as the man jumped off and headed to the wagon in the back. My heart leaped in my throat as he opened the flap in the back and took out the first batch of honey jars.
I had three minutes–and I reserved three seconds of them for a deep exhale.
I can do this.
I have to do this.
My Clan would crumble under Silas.
Dria Vegheara had not changed the entirety of Malhaven through sheer grit for the Protectorate to be destroyed.
I would die before I let that happen.
As soon as the man stepped into the sweets shop, the crystalline door bell ring beating against my chest, my fingers delved inside my satchel. The heated metal dish seared my skin and I almost dropped it in my haste.
The yellow cracks inside the embers now barely flickered.
With my nerves wracked, I rummaged through the satchel, fingers twisting in the makeshift kindling–the leather soles from the other boots, shredded as fine as my little improvised dagger had allowed.
I sprinkled the leather flecks onto the coals, slowly at first, to let the first sizzle. The acrid smell burned through my nose, as if trying to hook itself into my brain to always shamefully remind me I’d stolen from the very place–and people–I was escaping from.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw the courier depositing yesterday’s empty jars in the back of the carriage and making his last trip inside the shop.
Shit .
He was fast today.
I flung more of the kindling onto the coals.
A mistake.
The feather of smoke which had been slowly rising vanished.
My breath stuttered, rushing out of my lungs.
Allie, some things require patience , my father’s voice whispered in my mind, but it didn’t have his usual warm lilt.
No, this was a beckoning murmur, sent from beyond the grave.
Protect the Clan.
Avenge my death.
Survive.
None of that would be possible if I hyperventilated–or maybe…
I lowered my body, splaying my palms onto the cold ground. I used my frightened breaths to stoke the coals, which burned amber.
The shop bell rang.
I was running out of time.
Patience, Allie , my father’s voice resounded again.
Instead of blowing harder, I pursed my lips closer and let out a long gust of air. Slowly, the smoke began to rise through the mound of leather. So low to the ground and nestled against a stone wall, the fire would do nothing but attract attention and cause panic.
Which I needed desperately.
I huffed and coughed until the smoke billowed and stung my eyes. The city’s wind carried it down the alley and out in the market.
Perfect.
I jumped to my feet, ignored the white spots crowding my vision, and skulked to the other corner of the building.
Waiting.
Hoping.
Gods, I even prayed.
“Come on,” I whispered, watching the wind carry the smoke into the market.
What if the courier left before anyone noticed the smoke?
What if the wind snuffed it out?
What if–
The horse neighed, frightened.
Then chaos broke.
“Fire!”
“Water! We need water!”
I exhaled in relief. One or two buckets would suffice, but they didn’t need to know that–until I was out of sight.
As steps barreled down the other alley, I snuck forward toward the market, and peeked from behind the building. The shop owner–a stout woman who looked like she could give great hugs–vanished down the alley, the water in her bucket splashing after her as she bounced.
No sign of the courier.
This was my shot.
I clenched my jaw and raced toward the carriage.
The horse, a great big brown beauty, with a silken mane, neighed and stomped right in front of me. Its dark eyes seared into me, as if it knew my plan and wanted to halt me.
“I’m sorry, I have to,” I mouthed and rounded the carriage fast, before he could stomp me to death.
I pulled the leather wagon flap away, only to be met with a wooden box padded with oilcloth and dozens of empty, plumb jars.
They still smelled of honey.
Of my return to warmer shores.
Once I stepped inside, I would no longer taste Mrs. Thornbrew’s stew.
Never see the Commander tilt his head again before he said something infuriating.
I’d never be an outsider, yet still treated like I belonged.
I gritted my teeth, tightened my grip, and pulled myself up.
Sentiment had no place in my escape. It couldn’t.
My stomach growled and roiled as I gingerly stepped between the jars, careful not to jostle them. A thick cloth had been laid on the wooden floor, bunched between the glass to keep them from bumping into each other. So the road would be rough–and I’d have a cover.
As the shouts outside grew, I squeezed myself between the last row of jars and the hard wooden divider. The planks dug into my spine and I could already feel a cramp tensing in my left calf as I fetused my limbs to make myself as small and unseen as possible.
I clawed at the edge of the thick cloth enough to loosen a corner I could cover myself with. As soon as I pulled the fabric over me, I gagged. The smell of unwashed sheep was a thousand times more potent than the sweet trace of honey.
But I was hidden inside the carriage.
The noise outside quieted to confused whispers. A wave of relief washed over me–I’d planned to not hurt anyone, but fire was unpredictable.
“Such a strange thing,” the shop owner trilled. “Maybe some children playing a prank.”
“You should check the candies in the shop, maybe they wanted to steal some,” the courier said. He was smart–which meant he was dangerous.
“Oh, you’re right. But I haven’t had anything like that happen since I opened twenty-three years ago.”
“Then again…the metal dish looked fancy.” The courier’s gruff voice neared the carriage. My body tensed further. If he opened the flap and looked too closely, he’d see a human-shaped lump in his carriage which definitely shouldn’t have been there. “Definitely came from the fortress.”
Damn. I’d hoped to be very far away before anyone noticed that detail.
“I’ll tell the Commander. Maybe there are more guests up there, apart from her .” She suddenly sounded serious. “Too many strange things have been happening lately. I swear I can sometimes hear a strange hum rattling my shop.”
So I hadn’t imagined it. She didn’t mention the strange lights, but maybe that was a common occurrence here. My skin still pricked–that jagged line of light hadn’t wanted me to reach the market.
“The wells have been drying out, too,” she went on, now almost whispering. “And it hasn’t snowed as much as it should have.”
“You have too much snow,” the courier said and cooed at his horse, who still neighed up a storm, as if trying to warn him they were stowing an intruder.
“Never too much, only too little. Our rivers and forests need it.” She sighed. “Thank you for your help.”
“No worries. Same time tomorrow?”
They finished exchanging pleasantries and I felt the carriage dip as he got on in the front. The horse neighed louder.
“Don’t worry, the fire’s out,” he cooed. It warmed my heart and made me feel even lousier for using him. “We’ll be home by midnight and I’ll get you some barley, how about that?”
I listened to the muffled movements of the reins, heart curling with dread.
Any moment now, my plan could be foiled.
The wagon flap would be whipped to the side and the Commander would stand there in all his glory, narrowing his disappointed eyes at me. Or worse, taking away all of my roaming privileges. I’d never get back to my Clan then.
I waited, every breath coming out staggered, as the courier readjusted his seat, the wood groaning around me.
Then finally, the carriage began to roll.
The horse’s hoofs smacked the pavement.
The jars clinked.
And instead of rejoicing my plan had worked against all odds, an unnerving dread settled in my bones.
I’d gotten so far, but a bigger obstacle waited before me.
I had no clue where I was heading or when I needed to jump out of the carriage.
But nothing and no one would stop me from reuniting with my Clan.
Not the wilderness I’d most certainly have to face.
Not the Blood Brotherhood warriors who will be scouting the entire city after they discovered I’d left.
And certainly not the sudden guilt and remorse at leaving this place behind.
My Clan needed me–and I had to do anything to save it.