Chapter 15
Stavros
The shift in the air has me whirling before I’m even sure of what’s wrong.
One second, I can’t see anything around me except the darkened street. The next, five figures materialize a few paces away.
One of the men is gripping Ivy, her concealment charm snapped off her neck, her head slumped. They must have knocked her unconscious.
But even as my muscles clench to spring to her aid, my gaze lands on the taller man with the pale eyes and uneven frame who’s obviously orchestrated this confrontation.
Lothar gestures to the man holding Ivy, who whips a knife to her neck. My stance stiffens, knowing I can’t leap in there quickly enough to ensure the blade doesn’t sever her throat, even in my currently invisible state.
“I know she’s not alone,” Lothar says in his thick, haughty voice, his eyes scanning the street. “If any harm comes to me or my people, you’ll be sacrificing her too.”
At least it seems that Tinom’s charm is working well enough that Lothar can’t make me or Rheave out when he isn’t sure of who he’s looking for or where exactly they should be. But somehow he found Ivy.
I adjust my position, my hand balling into a fist. Anger sears through my gut.
How did he know we’d be here at just this moment? It can’t be a coincidence. They were lying in wait, concealed by their own magic.
Someone passed on the details of our plan to the Order.
How much else does our greatest enemy know? How much else has he done while we were infiltrating the guardhouse?
A jolt of panic spikes through my veins alongside my fury. The royal children—they might already be lost.
Lothar clicks his tongue, his lips curling with a hint of a sneer. “Why don’t you show yourself so we can negotiate like proper human beings, hmm?”
He flicks his cool gaze toward Ivy. The man with the knife digs the blade in just enough for a thin line of blood to form along its edge.
My anger and fear congeal in my churning stomach. The former magic advisor would like to see Ivy dead. If the only sorcerer he had who could control her is gone, he’ll want the threat she poses eliminated.
He’s only kept her alive this long to control the rest of us. If he thinks that ploy isn’t working, he’ll happily murder her and call that its own win.
I can’t see Rheave in the darkness. He’s kept his charm on so far, though I can only imagine how worked up the daimon is watching the woman he’s devoted himself to sagging in the grip of these villains.
It doesn’t appear that Lothar knows how many people exactly would have been with Ivy. Let the daimon realize he should stay concealed. I can be a distraction.
As long as Rheave has enough sense to recognize the advantage we can keep.
With a swift tug, I wrench off my charm. All five of the hostile faces before me twitch in my direction, their attention homing in on me.
I shove the charm in my pocket, my prosthetic raised defensively, and set my hand on the hilt of my sword. Not overtly threatening yet, just where I can draw it the moment I see an opening.
As Lothar’s gaze takes me in, a sharper rage cuts through the rest of my inner turmoil.
This prick slaughtered the man I swore to serve, the man I’d have given my life for. He murdered our king and queen with no care for their lives, their children, or what it would do to our country, only thinking of his own brutal, selfish ends.
If I owe King Konram anything, it’s seeing the traitor bleeding out here on the cobblestones. He’s already destroyed so much, ruined so many lives.
I have to put the cur down.
I just don’t know how.
Even if I did the unthinkable and sacrificed Ivy to launch myself at Lothar now, I have no idea what talents he or the lackeys flanking him possess. They might be able to deflect me before I inflicted so much as a scratch.
There’s too much on the line to take that gamble.
“Here I am, Lothar,” I say, my voice hard, with a flick of my eyes to clear the fog that’s rolling over them. “What kind of negotiation are you looking for?”
The one-shouldered man rests his only hand against his belly, a pose that emphasizes what’s missing from his uneven body. He tilts his head slightly to the side.
His expression is keenly alert but with no sign of fear. He believes he’s fully in control of our stand-off.
As his gaze bores into mine, his face blurring after the first few moments, a sense of rancor prickles over my skin. As if he’s radiating fury.
What the fuck does this asshole have to be angry with me about?
“There’s only one piece of information I’m interested in bartering for,” he says. “Where are the false queen and the young Melchioreks hiding?”
I can’t restrain a scoffing sound. Does he really think so little of my loyalty as that?
It would tear my heart in two seeing him harm Ivy more than he already has, but I know that she would never forgive me if I traded our future queen’s life for hers.
Besides, I’m not na?ve enough to believe that Lothar actually would spare Ivy in exchange for the information. No doubt he’d have his man spilling her blood the second I coughed up a location.
Lothar’s eyes narrow at my show of skepticism. “You aren’t the only vermin we’ve caught, even if you are the worst.” He aims a disgusted look at Ivy before returning his attention to me. “If someone else gives up the royals first, you’ll have nothing left to bargain with.”
My pulse stutters. Who else has the Order gotten their hands on?
Or is he simply bluffing to try to get his way?
Gods help me, if I could run this man through right now, it’d put an end to this entire mess.
But I don’t even know that for sure. How deeply does his followers’ fervor run now that he’s stirred it up?
My fingers tighten around the hilt of my sword, but I leave it in place, locked in uncertainty. Could I offer something in return, a partial acquiescence that wouldn’t betray Petra and her siblings but would buy us more time?
Thankfully, getting out of this wretched scenario isn’t entirely up to me. As I grapple with my thoughts, a crackle of lightning-like energy blazes through the air.
The bolts slam into all five of the villains in front of me.
Even as my heart leaps, the sparks fizzle out against some kind of magical shield wrapped around Lothar’s body, as well as that of his two closest followers. They barely twitch at the impact.
But the other two figures aren’t so protected. A woman at Lothar’s left and the man holding Ivy jerk and crumple with the surge of daimon magic.
The knife slips from the man’s fingers, and Rheave is there, abruptly visible and yanking Ivy to her feet.
Her body trembles, and her eyelids flutter open.
The burst of magic must have jolted her too, back into at least partial consciousness.
My gaze snaps to Lothar—and my gift tickles at the back of my eyes with a sudden flash of imagery that shows me the wretch’s next move.
“Pull back,” I holler, wrenching out my sword. Rheave has already scrambled backward a few paces with Ivy before Lothar has a chance to snarl and spring at the two of them.
The magic Sabrelle blessed me with might not work as impressively as it once did, but I’ve never been gladder to have it.
In the tiny window of opportunity I bought him, the daimon spins to the side and thrusts out his arm. He hurls another wallop of sizzling energy at our attackers.
The flare doesn’t penetrate their protective magic to char their bodies the way I’d like to see, but it does heave them back several paces. Lothar stumbles into his companions, knocking them all onto their asses.
I raise my sword, but I don’t know if the blade could penetrate Lothar’s shield any better than Rheave’s magic has. And every second we linger is another opportunity for him to bring his own sorcery to bear.
“Run!” I shout to Rheave, and dash over to help him support Ivy.
Our lady thief has gotten her legs into somewhat working order. She only needs a little help balancing as we sprint around the nearest corner and duck into the first alley I spot.
There’s no time to find another sewer grate, and I’m not sure we’d be better off down in the enclosed space now that Lothar is on our trail regardless.
Rheave propels out a question between his ragged breaths. “Where do we go now?”
Before I can answer, Ivy lifts her head higher. Her voice comes out slightly slurred but determined. “Can’t go back to Petra. Can’t risk leading them there.”
As little as I like it, I have to agree. “She’s right.”
We hustle on in a weaving path through the streets. I peer at the buildings around us, my mind whirling. An uncomfortable sense of certainty fills my chest.
I don’t want to take this step, but I can’t justify the danger I’d be putting our entire cause in if I don’t.
I set my jaw against my own misgivings. “We need to leave the city. We’re too compromised—we can’t guarantee the royal family’s safety here. I’ll have to signal Alek and Casimir the way we agreed.”
We always knew it might come to this—that our situation in Florian might become so precarious we had to make a hasty exit. I just hadn’t expected the conflict to reach that point so quickly.
Ivy nods, and I retrieve my locket from my trousers. Still jogging, I press the pane inside the hinged pendant, pause, press it again, and repeat the sequence once more.
The series of three pulses in quick succession will tell our friends that something’s gone wrong—wrong enough that they need to evacuate the future queen, her siblings, and all our other allies who’ll join us.
As Ivy said, we can’t risk returning to Tinom’s tenement building. We’ll have to count on our comrades to gather the possessions we left behind.
It isn’t as if we’ve been carrying much with us after all this time on the run.
As a safety measure, we spread out our mounts across several stables at varying distances from the apartment. Taking the lay of the land, I make our next turn to take us to the spot where we lodged Toast and a few of the other horses we can call ours.
Rheave looks over at me, his smooth face unusually tight. Worry turns his voice taut. “What if they know about our escape plan?”
Dread sours my mouth. All I can do is shake my head. “We proceed as if they don’t, but we keep our eyes open. If we see any sign that our route out of the city has been compromised, we back up and reconsider.”
Ivy swipes her hair back from her face, her skin still wan but her eyes brightening by the second. “There’s more than one way. We’ll make it out.”
I don’t like to think about how much that effort might take out of her, though.
Tinom assured us that his hidden passage through the city walls was a closely guarded secret, known about only by the royal family and himself, since he’s the one who disguised it. But who knows if King Konram might have trusted his other magic advisors enough to mention it to them?
As we rush into the stable and grab tack for the ride, an emotion that’s more regret than worry twists my stomach. The act of yanking the saddle’s girth tight and the hurried snatching of the bridle are far too familiar.
How many times now have we fled from our enemies, running or riding off into the night?
How many times more will we need to before I can stand and fight the man who’s inflicted so many horrors on our country?
Every military expert knows there are times when you have to cut your losses and lick your wounds so you can come back stronger. But gods above, each failure pierces me right through the middle.
I will destroy Lothar for everything he’s obliterated in my world. I’ll protect the remnants of the royal family, the woman I love, and the strange family we’ve made.
I just don’t know when.
The uncertainty pulls my gut into a knot. Ignoring it, I lead my horse out of the stable with Ivy and Rheave close behind me, scan the street with a jerk of my head, and heft myself into the saddle.
“Let’s ride.”