Epilogue Benedict
EPILOGUE
BENEDICT
I propelled Grant from the mouth of the alleyway and began to stalk after him, hands deep in the pockets of my worn Capesh coat. Behind us, a dozen of my crew fell into step, quiet and hard-eyed. Even the Stormsinger, Alfwin, showed none of his stolid good humor today.
In any other city the crowds might have parted for a company such as ours—a clutch of armed men and women, strung about with weapons and clearly intent on violence. But in Port Sen, we barely earned a pause. A few side steps, wary or assessing gazes, but even the grandmothers sported knives, and the children underfoot knew how to use them.
“I did not come along to be a walking shield. In fact, I’ve no clue why I came along—ah, yes, I was carried off against my will ,” Grant muttered over his shoulder, though his countenance remained suspended between his usual charming smile and vigilance. High roofs leaned above us, wooden buildings of slap-dash, irregular construction united in their battle to claim a scrap of daylight.
“I did not have enough time to convince you,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the crowd.
“You cannot abduct people and call it friendship.” The blond man began to fume.
“Did I call it friendship?”
Grant ground his teeth, beginning to lose his composure. “Listen. She knows we are following her. If you would hire another Sooth, we might have some sense of what we’re walking into.”
“Hush.”
Grant turned a corner, and we approached a door tucked into an haphazard courtyard. There was no one in sight, though sound drifted from the windows all around and the door was cracked open. A cat peered out, assessed us, then leapt off into the shadows.
“Go on,” I prompted Grant.
He muttered something under his breath as he approached the door and rapped. A voice shouted from inside in a language I did not know, then Grant went in.
At the same time, a figure moved across the rooftops. I might have missed her for the chimneys and random flags and the glare of the summer sun, but I felt her in a way I had come to recognize since that night in the Other, when Samuel’s and my ties to that world had healed.
Another mage. Another Magni.
Enisca Alamay vanished over the peak of a roof, but not before I caught sight of the satchel at her side. A satchel filled with incendiary documents, proof of the Usti’s treachery. Paper and ink with the potential to upend the balance of power on the Winter Sea. To end a war.
Or start a new one.
“There,” I said to my company, pointing one long finger up to the roof. “Now go catch her.”