Chapter 11
I freeze, my blood turning cold. Daygar. She could have found out my name in a number of ways.
The research I’d asked Alor to pursue for me. Ravin, who no doubt appointed her to this task. Mentions from the guards of Halazar who might have survived.
Her knowing my name isn’t what has me standing wide-eyed with my heart racing. No…It’s her mention of me being the daughter of the leader of Oricalis’s greatest enemies.
The Worldkeepers. A secret and ancient organization that Bristara had only a moment to tell me of before her death.
“She’s looking for you,” Gregor breathes. Fear and determination war for dominance in his expression.
“Of course she is.” I place my hand on my deck. The power in Kaelis’s cards surges in response. It’s almost as though he’s here next to me, living in the shadows that cling to the stone—to my body. Lend me your power, I submit to his essence. “And I’m going to find her.”
“Clara, you’re in no position to fight, especially not head-on.” Gregor grabs my biceps. “You just destroyed Halazar. You can barely stand.”
“I didn’t say anything about fighting head-on…
or fighting fair.” I free myself. Something in my eyes has his grip loosening.
“You two be a distraction and try to stay as safe as possible.” It’s bad enough that I have to drag them into settling my score.
The least I can do is take the brunt of the attacks. “I’ll handle the rest.”
I walk off into the tunnels, leaving them and the flickering glow of the lantern behind. The darkness is oddly comforting in its totality. They came thinking they were the hunters…right into my domain.
“If we let her go, she will bring down Oricalis. If you do not find her, your partners and children and all those you love will never be safe,” Emilia shouts.
“For duty to crown and kingdom, we will find her, and we will end her like we did her mother—end the bloodline of our enemies once and for all!”
I stop, chest so tight I can barely draw a breath.
I see Mother again—her warm smile as she stroked my hair from my eyes.
The scent of inks and paper that always clung to her clothes.
Her gentle kiss as she bade me farewell before slipping on her cloak and disappearing into the night for whatever business she couldn’t risk me knowing…
Her face just before it slipped over the mountainside in Eza’s vision.
They murdered her. Emilia’s mother murdered her. Alor’s information proved as much. Emilia knows it, too. Alor shared the truth with her. My confidence in this being true is now absolute.
Thank you for the admission, I wish I could say to her. A part of me might have felt bad for what I’m about to do. This woman had once killed a man for me, and some tiny fraction of my soul might have seen myself as “owing” her something for it.
But now all I owe her is death.
As long as the Ventalls live, they’ll keep hunting us until we’re nothing more than a memory. No, not even that. We’ll be expunged from history as the “traitors” we are.
Arina will never be safe. And neither will I.
I begin to walk. Slowly. Purposefully. I decide against the Seven of Wands, forgoing the option of shields.
Stealth is its own defense, and the darkness is going to be worth more than any magic armor.
The seven tongues of flame would be more of a hindrance to my safety than a help with the seven attacks they’d block.
The Eight of Wands sinks into me, speeding my movement. I next cast the Nine of Wands. Pain vanishes from my body. The cacophony of aches that might have distracted me are gone for nine minutes. The world is sharper.
The Knight of Wands is a whisper of smoke under my fingers, and sparks dance across my mind. It burns my fear away, though there wasn’t much left to begin with. I am not fearful; I am vicious. Hungry.
The tunnel stretches ahead. I feel my way along the grooves in the wall, following the faint crunch of boots on stone. Emilia, in her haste, seems to have scattered her forces to search. If they’d stayed together, they might have been a problem. Now I almost pity them.
Almost.
“What’s that?” I hear in the distance. “What? Where?”
Gregor and Jura. I move faster.
A sliver of light is nearly blinding after navigating by touch and sound alone. I close my right eye and continue, sneaking up behind a pair of Stellis knights—not city enforcers, Stellis. Emilia is leading a formidable charge after me indeed.
A few steps away, I cast the Ace of Swords. A small, sharp gust extinguishes their lantern. Darkness falls like the executioner’s axe. I close my left eye and open my right. The two men look around frantically in the near-total darkness, their eyes adjusting.
My right eye is already acclimated.
“What was that?” one hisses, panic thinning his words.
“Your cards!” The other fumbles for his sword, rather than cards.
The Five of Swords is a silver spark that takes the form of a dagger in my palm, perfect for being nimble in these claustrophobic passages.
The first Stellis shifts, hearing my hasty steps.
His armor catches faint glints of distant light.
The Stellis’s plate is impressive, but there’s a small opening between the high collar and their chin—a gap you must get dangerously close to in order to exploit.
I go for the Arcanist first, moving like a shadow, breath controlled. One strike is all it takes to end him with nothing more than a wet gurgle. Hot blood spills over my hand, splattering before his body clangs against the ground.
His partner stumbles, finally freeing his blade. But I’m faster than he is. The dagger finds flesh again, and he crumples before he can make a sound.
I feel nothing. There is no joy in these kills. Only duty. Kill or be killed.
I’m down the passage, toward the next flicker of lamplight. This Stellis is alone, warily peering down a pathway in a way that makes me wonder if he caught a glimpse of Jura or Gregor. I dispatch him before he even knows I’m there. As he falls, shouts echo to me from the location of the first two.
“Someone’s definitely here! We have two down.”
I move, hearing footsteps grow near. My heart pounds harder—not with fear, but with the thrill of the hunt. With finally feeling like I’ve thrown off the shackles that have been on me my whole life. No more hiding my power. No more holding back.
“One over here!” My third victim has been discovered by the man who quickly becomes my fourth.
He drops hard, plate armor clanging against the ground, and I move again, not staying in one location for too long. The tunnel floor is slick beneath my feet—blood or water? I can’t tell. Probably both.
Their panic becomes my companion, hanging close in these tight passages.
Their footsteps quicken, making it easier to tell where they are based on the sounds of their plate.
In tandem, the echoes of others darting about reverberate, glints of light strike me.
Jura and Gregor are doing a good job of sowing confusion, and I move in tandem.
More magic flares in the darkness—Wands like fire, Swords like jagged bursts of lightning.
“Barricade entrances. Keep her in here with us; do not let her get away!” Emilia shouts.
They try to get an edge on me, but they can’t. I know these passages better than any of them. Every twist, every turn, every alcove where the darkness is thicker than blood.
“You think we won’t find you?” Emilia’s voice cuts through the growing chaos: part threat to me and part command to her soldiers. “Wherever you hide, I will hunt you down. I have been tasked with bringing you to justice, and I do not fail.”
I ignore her, veering down a passage where my next unfortunate victim waits. His breathing is what gives him away—rapid, shallow gasps of fear. I slip behind him, close enough to smell the sweat on his skin before my blade finds its mark.
Moving with precision, I take out another that sees me with enough time to get a lunge in. Another hears the scuffle, shouting for more to come, “Over here!” I end her before anyone else can arrive.
“Another!” someone bellows from behind, voice thick with dread. “How many does that make?”
“Sound off!”
Very few voices call out in response.
“To me! To me! Regroup!” Emilia’s demand is a little more shrill than I think she’d like. That’s a real twinge of fear she’s working so hard to ignore.
Perfect.
I don’t hesitate and press the advantage while I have it. Emilia is too skilled to give me another opening or make another mistake. My feet fly over the stone, more cards flaring to life as I sprint through the near-complete darkness with a reckless speed that threatens to break my body.
Then there she is.
Alone.