CHAPTER 19 JAX #2
For an instant, panic clogs my thoughts, and I can’t move. If we run, a scraver will be able to chase us— and so will everyone else waiting in this clearing. What if they have soldiers? Guards? I doubt I can outrun fifty people. I definitely can’t outrun an arrow.
And that’s if I can even run at all. I’ve grown comfortable walking on this false foot, but running takes a lot more coordination. If I don’t land exactly right, the spot where my leg meets the wood sometimes slips or buckles, and I end up in a heap on the ground.
Boots swish through the underbrush. Someone is coming toward us. My eyes flash to Tycho’s.
Run? I mouth.
He shakes his head and mouths two words back. Kiss me.
That cuts through my panic. There is absolutely no way I interpreted that correctly.
But then he grabs hold of my armor and presses his mouth to mine.
The kiss is aggressive and unexpected, and I inhale sharply . . . before almost immediately melting right into him. Especially when he reaches up and tugs the pin that keeps my hair in a knot. My hair tumbles loose around my shoulders, and he buries a hand in the strands, tugging tight.
My bow hits the ground. The arrows fall a second later. I suddenly can’t remember what we’re even supposed to be running from.
“Shove me up against a tree,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. Before I can process that, he hooks his fingers in my armor again, then steps back, slamming himself into a tree. I have to reach up and brace a hand against the trunk so he doesn’t yank me right off my feet.
“What are you—”
“Hush.” Then he kisses me again.
My thoughts are trapped in a weird space between awareness of the Truthbringer meeting, fear for my life, and the fact that I would be fine if I died right here.
A man speaks from behind us, and his voice is a low growl of sound. “What are you two doing back here?”
Tycho draws back a little, and his face is cloaked in shadow from the trees. When he speaks, his tone is full of annoyance, and he’s still using that ridiculous accent. “What does it look like?”
“Well, go find somewhere else to do . . . that.” The man sounds equally annoyed.
Tycho sighs reluctantly. “I’m pretty sure we were here first—” But then his eyes shift past me, and I feel a sudden change in his body. Every muscle on his frame goes tense, all at once. Then he ducks his head a bit, almost pressing it against mine.
I have no idea if it’s safe to speak. What? I want to demand. What is it?
“You were not here first,” a woman says from behind me. It’s the one from earlier, with the voice I can’t quite place. She’s closer now, and I start to turn, because I want to see her face.
But Tycho gives my hair a tug, and there’s something significant in the motion.
His eyes return to mine, and he looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Fine,” he says to her, though his eyes are locked on my own.
Another cold breeze whips through the trees, and this time it makes me shiver.
Is the scraver there? Is it right behind me?
“Come on,” Tycho says, taking hold of my wrist. His gaze is piercing, but his voice is somehow calm. “We’ll find somewhere else.”
I search his gaze, wondering what I’m missing. “Sure,” I say, trying to mimic his annoyance. “Whatever you want.”
When he gives my wrist a tug, I follow. Curiosity gets the better of me, however, and when I duck to grab my bow from the ground, I look over my shoulder. A chill rolls through my body, because I’m terrified I’m about to lock eyes with a scraver just waiting to rip my throat out.
But there’s no scraver, despite the icy wind.
Instead, there’s the woman whose voice I didn’t recognize: Lady Karyl.
The very first person who hired me to carry notes of treason against the king.
And the same woman who planned the first attack on the queen.
We plunge back into the tourney, and Tycho eventually lets go of my wrist to take hold of my hand.
He hasn’t said a word, so I haven’t either.
The crowd is still roaring in the arena, but my heartbeat overpowers it all.
I have no idea how much the scravers can hear, and I doubt they can hear anything over the sounds of this crowd, but I don’t want to be the one to break our silence.
The next time the crowd goes wild with cheers and clapping, Tycho glances at me. His voice is so quiet that I can barely hear him. “Did you see her?”
“Lady Karyl? Yeah.”
He shakes his head. “Her name was Lady Clarinas— or at least that’s the name she gave when the queen hired her to be Sinna’s governess.”
That nearly stops me in my tracks. I knew Lady Karyl— or Lady Clarinas— was involved in the first attack on the queen, but I had no idea she’d been in the palace itself. “She was Princess Sinna’s governess ?”
“Yes.” His expression twists. “The scraver Nakiis knew she was bad, too— or at least I think he did. He tried to lead Sinna away.” He frowns, a deeper sadness darkening his eyes. “That’s what led to the queen eventually losing the baby.”
And that’s why the king left Syhl Shallow at all. To give the queen and his daughter a chance at safety. I give Tycho’s hand a squeeze. “They’re plotting against the king and queen again.”
“Yes.” He hesitates. “I wonder if the queen knows. I wonder if that’s why she sent a courier.”
An urgency rings under every word, but it’s completely at odds with his unhurried pace. “Then why aren’t we running ?”
Tycho scowls. “If we go tearing out of here, that scraver will hear it. We don’t need him chasing us.” He pauses. “We’ll leave quietly and make a plan. I wish we’d had one more minute to hear what they were planning. We might have to split up and send word in both directions.”
“Have you seen him before?” I say. “Xov—”
“Don’t say his name.” He casts a glance over his shoulder, as if the scraver might have followed us into the crowds. “I have no idea how much he can hear.” He winces a little. “I’m trying to stay calm so my magic doesn’t flare.”
“That was a smart trick, in the woods.” I hesitate. “Do you think she might have recognized us?”
He considers that for a minute. “No one came after us— and there were definitely enough of them to cause trouble. I never spoke with her directly, and I only ever saw her once. I doubt she’d expect either of us to be here.” He bumps me with his shoulder. “And you’re walking.”
That’s true. “So maybe we’re safe.”
He hooks an arm around my neck, exactly the way I did to him earlier. It lights a fire in my gut that reminds me of the way he tugged me against the tree. “And together,” he whispers.
My heart does a flip in my chest. Again, I wish we could find a room and forget everything we’re supposed to be doing.
But then Leo appears in the crowd. His eyes are searching every face, his expression tight and drawn.
Tycho spots him the instant I do. “Leo,” he calls sharply.
I expect the young soldier to look relieved when he spots us, but instead, concern washes across his expression. He cuts through the people to join us.
“I’ve been looking for you all over,” he says.
“What’s wrong?” says Tycho.
“It’s Mal and Sephran.”
“Are they in trouble?”
“No.” Leo grimaces. “For a while, they were fine, but then we couldn’t find you, so we headed for the stables, and they couldn’t decide what to do, so then they—”
“Leo! What’s happening now ?”
“They’re fighting.”
Tycho sighs, then swears under his breath. “Show me.”
We hear Sephran and Malin before we see them— and considering the noise of the tourney, that’s saying something. They’re on the far side of the stables, and I have no idea how long they’ve been fighting, but they’re rolling in the dirt, fists swinging.
“At least they’re not in the middle of the crowd,” Tycho says, sighing. He strides forward. “Mal,” he growls. “We need to get out of here. We don’t have time for this.”
Malin shoves Sephran onto his back, then draws a fist to punch him. “Oh, he’s had it coming for days—”
Tycho grabs hold of his arm before Malin can swing, and they grapple for a minute.
“Let him do it!” Sephran snaps. “Just let him—”
“Shut up,” Tycho says. He drags Malin back, and Leo rushes forward to help him. Together they’re able to drag him off Sephran.
“I’m fine!” Mal snarls. “I’m fine. Let me go.”
Suddenly free, Sephran finds his feet. “No. Hold him so I can finish this.” He strides forward, fist swinging.
“Stop,” I say. “Sephran, stop.” I surge forward to block him, but on my false foot, I’m not as fast as the others were. He’s midswing, and I go for his arm, the way Tycho just did to Malin.
But I’m too slow— or maybe he’s too fast. Instead of slamming a fist into Malin, his arm slams right into my throat.
Stars explode in my vision. The pain is sudden and shocking. I don’t realize I’m falling until I hit the ground. I hear them shouting my name, but I don’t know who it is. Tycho? Sephran? I can’t quite focus.
And then I realize I can’t breathe.
“Jax. Jax.” Tycho’s voice. He sounds distant. “Jax, open your eyes.”
I open them— and all I see are flares of light. I try to inhale, but my body doesn’t want to work.
“What’s wrong?” someone cries. “What did I do? Did I break his neck?”
That is Sephran.
I’m scrabbling at my neck, clawing at my skin. I’m being choked by fire.
“You crushed his windpipe,” says Leo. He sounds horrified. I don’t even know the word windpipe, but I can guess.
“Get the horses. All of you.” Any panic is gone from Tycho’s voice, replaced with the sharp tone of an order. “Now.”
They must obey, because boots shuffle through the dirt.
Tycho’s hand falls against my throat, and I barely feel it. I barely feel anything.
Then I feel the prickling fire of his magic, gone in an instant as the injury heals. As soon as I can inhale, I’m choking on my breath, desperate for air. Suddenly Tycho is staring down at me in the moonlight, his warm brown eyes full of concern.
“Better?” he says softly.
I nod, gasping.
“Good.” He sighs and runs a hand down his face, then snaps his head up as an icy wind whips around us, lifting dried leaves and debris from the ground. “Come on.” He grabs hold of my hand and begins to pull me upright before I’m ready.
“Why—” I gasp. “Why did you need the horses?”
“Because I used magic, and they felt it.” He looks around again, then gives me a firmer tug. “Which means we need to run.”