Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
“What a mess.” Kane bit into the apple he swiped from a small produce vendor. He relished its crisp sweetness and tang. After a month in prison, eating nothing but contraband snacks and dirt-quality gruel, the fresh fruit was a delicacy.
Kane perched on the roof of the church, hidden within the shadow of its steeple, scanning the disorder below. Muffled cries reached his ears, soldiers shouting orders—likely to kill or capture him.
His bet was on kill.
Kane stretched his aching muscles. A fight would do him good, but there was too much at stake to risk it, even if he was sure he’d win. He didn’t need any more attention, not when he was so close to leaving the godsforsaken place with everything he needed.
Kane patted his coat pocket where the coded note sat—the index that would lead him straight to the maps the late Chancellor had squirreled away in his precious library.
The shipwright had been a godsend, slipping him the final piece of the puzzle in exchange for.
..well, a deal Kane was more than happy to make.
For weeks, he’d waited in that cell, biding time, collecting scraps of information and watching the days pass.
It was all going better than he dared to hope.
One of the gods saw fit to bless his hard work, or perhaps Mistress Fate knew how many lives would be lost if Kane hadn’t been graced with such serendipitous luck.
Admittedly, his original plan involved the slaughter of anyone who stood in his way.
After all his hard work and patience, he had a way to navigate the maze of shelves and locate that godsdamned map.
More crucially, the Chancellor was dead.
The arcane wards guarding his precious library had fallen with him—and Kane finally had his chance.
The long-sealed maps of the old kingdom from the Great North would finally be accessible.
The last piece he needed to find his treasure.
Kane took one last bite of the apple and seared the core to ash. It was too early to meet Asher on the docks, and he had a deal to keep before the day was over. He moved closer to the edge, scanning the streets below. Kenneth’s daughter couldn’t have gotten too far since his release.
People scurried home as fast as they could; a few weeping priestesses had crumbled to their knees, and the soldiers were collecting sad souls who had collapsed in the street.
Kane took in a breath and let his Grace bloom beneath his skin.
Fire coursed through his veins as he caught the faintest scent of arcanum in the air.
A curse. He frowned.
It would certainly be a problem if the woman he was meant to protect had lost consciousness. He glanced at the unfortunate souls being carted off by soldiers.
There was no sign of Kenneth’s daughter, and—he noted—no sign of Inez either. Kane smiled, glad the young diviner had made it out. He had an inkling suspicion that if he found his charge, he would find Inez close by as well.
The Yarrow girl was better than he gave her credit for.
Kane remembered watching her from the gallows.
She had taken great lengths to blend in, making herself as unnoticeable as possible.
From the muted colors of her clothes to a trained, unassuming posture.
Her hair was tied in a simple braid, and she wore no adornments.
A seamless Samaritan. But when she finally gave him her attention, he could see a tempest behind her eyes.
Kane had a feeling when they finally met, she would be stubborn to accept his aid.
Very stubborn.
Oh well. At least it would be entertaining.
He patted his pocket once more, ensuring his well-won prize was still hidden and secure. The coded document was safe.
He took one last look at the mayhem before disappearing into the shadows. He would need to get off the island soon, before the Major Apprentice was anointed Chancellor and the kingdom was stuck beneath her thumb. If he cared enough, perhaps he could find a drop of pity for Tarth.
None. Kane found no drop of sympathy to spare for the nation. He got what he needed. It was time to find the girl, see her home safely, and leave this place behind for good.
Erinna’s boots slammed against polished stone as she and Inez tore into Old Town.
Behind them, shouts echoed off the pristine walls of Capital City—too close and getting closer.
They sprinted past the hollow shells of abandoned homes and businesses that marked the boundary between worlds; the glittering sprawl of Capital City and the gutted remains of what came before.
“This way!” Erinna veered down an alley where cobblestones crumbled into dirt. The ground was treacherous, liable to collapse into the honeycomb of empty mines below. Most people knew better than to risk it. It would buy them time, but the guards would search there eventually.
They made it three more turns before Inez’s body gave out, knees buckling beneath her as exhaustion claimed what little strength she had left. Erinna barely had time to stop and catch her before she plummeted headfirst into the ground.
She swung Inez’s arm over her shoulder and dragged her into the shadows beside a vacant building. They needed a moment to rest. It would be the only time they had to catch their breath before the soldiers continued their search among the ruins.
Hoofbeats and wooden wheels sounded in the distance, followed by frustrated cries of loved ones. They were collecting the bodies of those who had fallen. Dread tightened her chest as she wondered what would have happened to her if she had remained unconscious.
She shook the thoughts away, turning her head up to gaze at the late afternoon sky. Nightfall would come soon, and Erinna prayed they would make it home before dusk.
“I will only make it more difficult for you,” Inez rasped in poorly concealed guilt. Tear streaks lined her cheeks, likely from both pain and relief.
Erinna shrugged. “That’s just life. At least I can try to give you a little bit of it.”
When their sharp labored breaths finally faded, Erinna peered around the corner, making sure no one had followed them. The sound of boots echoed through the silent streets. The guards had made their way into the ruins sooner than she expected.
“On my back,” Erinna whispered. They couldn’t stay any longer.
Inez didn’t protest. She readily placed two hands on Erinna’s shoulders and awkwardly swung her legs around her waist. With a small huff, Erinna stood and continued the arduous trek home.
The pace was gruelingly slow as they navigated the old streets, but at least they were moving.
Her legs were screaming, but Erinna pushed through it. Get through it. Keep moving, she thought, steeling herself against the pain, blinking sweat from her eyes. She was no stranger to discomfort, but this would certainly take its toll in the morning.
Fear moved her forward one step at a time. Death over capture, she reminded herself.
Erinna weaved through the streets of Old Town with trained steps. She knew the area well, the remnants of the first capital. It was once a sprawling city, but the deeper man dug for witchstone, the more dangerous the ground above became.
Eventually, the mine ran dry, workers shifted, another vein was discovered, and a new city was erected, even greater than the last.
They passed houses that sank down to the second level.
The roofs, or what was left of them, stood barely taller than a man.
The deeper the buildings, the more Erinna knew the way.
She just hoped Broman’s workers were off the clock, or at least sequestered in the legitimate veins.
The ones below their feet had been condemned decades ago.
But witchstone was still witchstone. Whatever was mined below was free from the regulation of the crown. As long as it was hidden and smuggled secretly off the island, of course.
In a few more turns, Erinna’s knees threatened to buckle.
“Stop. You need to rest, or we won’t make it,” said Inez with a weak pat to Erinna’s shoulders. Erinna obliged. Her father once said that a good diviner was right only half the time, but you’d still be a fool not to listen. It would be best to heed such advice.
They slumped against a dilapidated wall. Old flakes of paint and plaster crumbling to dust beneath their weight.
Silence. They had journeyed far enough into Old Town that the chaos from the Capital City had faded to a dull murmur.
Erinna figured there would be a certain level of madness once Iprix passed, but this was beyond her imagination.
She remembered the thud of the bodies falling to the ground.
The pain she felt when the mourning bell sounded and the mark appeared on her arm.
Filled with more questions than answers, Erinna shook her head.
She could wonder when she got home.
Night would come quickly, and Erinna feared what would happen if they could not find safety by then.
“How are you doing?” Erinna asked.
Inez blinked, her gaze following a circling hawk. “I think it found us.”
Fuck.
A summon.
Erinna scrambled to her feet and grabbed a stray piece of wood. If they were fast enough, they could potentially make it to the mines in time. With her free hand, she dragged Inez to her feet in hopes of making it farther down an alley.
“Stay where you are!”
Three guards rounded the corner, likely directed by the mage who summoned the hawk. In the tight space, there was nowhere to hide, and running would invite more harm than help. There was only one option.
Erinna braced herself as the soldiers closed the distance.
“Weapons down, on the ground!”
Erinna nodded towards Inez to comply. She dropped the useless piece of wood and lowered herself to her knees.
“You have been found aiding and abetting a fugitive of the crown—” a soldier, barely older than Erinna’s own twenty-five years, started the imprisonment rights.