TWENTY #2
“You look like someone waiting for a knife in the back,” Jude says to me. “Relax. If I was going to sell you out, I’d already be richer.”
“That’s not reassuring,” I say.
He laughs. “It should be.”
“So, how will this work?” I ask. Jude strikes me as the type who might be full of shit, and I’d rather know that before I set foot on his ship.
He explains the route like it’s a game—rough waters, forgotten lanes, places Bishop’s patrol ships won’t bother watching. “We’ll leave at dawn.”
My chest constricts, time closing in around me like a fist. That wasn’t the plan. We can’t be here in the morning.
“Dawn?” Kieren repeats, rolling his small bone token between his knuckles. He leans across the nicked table and lowers his voice. “We need to leave before—” He falls silent as the barkeep places three overflowing mugs in the center of the table.
The man squints down at Jude. “You’ll pay your tab before you go,” he warns, gold tooth glinting with every word.
Jude beams that easy smile at him. “I’m settling my finances right now.”
“Before your boots leave my threshold,” the barkeep clarifies. He turns slowly, his head tilting slightly like he’s trying to get a peek under my hood.
Kieren edges closer to me, and the man grunts and walks away. My best friend watches him leave before swiveling back to Jude. He leans forward, his voice pitching low again. “We go tonight, or you’re settling that tab yourself.”
Jude stills, both men sizing each other up.
Kieren has a foot on Jude easily and the kind of muscle that comes with years spent on a farm, but the ship captain looks like he fights dirty.
I press my lips together, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut.
Can we really trust him to get us out of here in time?
“You drive a hard bargain.” Jude chuckles and lifts his mug. “One more for the road.” He tips his head at me. “Drink up. The ale won’t be this fresh at sea.”
I manage a few sips as they hash out final details. Their beers are long gone by the time Kieren slides a few gold coins across the table to him.
“You’ll get the rest when our feet touch the Lost Continent,” Kieren warns him.
But Jude snatches the coins up, eyes shifting around the room, and then stands swiftly. “I’ll pay the tab. Meet you outside in five.”
As we head for the door, the bartender’s gaze catches on me again. This time, he doesn’t bother hiding his interest. His gold tooth flashes when he smiles, and my stomach drops. I pick up my pace, and Kieren matches, shooting me a confused glance as I push open the door.
Outside, the night feels colder than it should, but I gulp down the fresh air.
“Once we’re aboard,” Kieren says, swinging one of our packs higher on his shoulder, the other dangling by his side, “you sleep. I’ll watch the door.”
“There’s no need.” Now who’s lying?
But he holds up a hand. “You’ll rest better.” He looks around us. “Everything will be better when we get this place behind us.”
I’m not sure I’ll stop looking over my shoulder until we’re on the Lost Continent. “Do you trust Jude?” I ask him, lowering my voice as a few men stagger out of the tavern.
“Trust might be taking it a bit far,” he admits. He glances at the tavern’s sign, then back at me. “But he didn’t ask who you were. We paid, so we’re his cargo now. He’ll protect us. I think we’re in good hands.”
Good seems like too strong a word, but I don’t argue with him. There’s enough to worry about without looking for more problems. But when the door to the tavern slams shut behind us, I nearly jump out of my skin.
Jude strides up to us, whistling. “Best get going. Tide waits for no one.”
The streets thin as we head closer to the water. Stone pavers give way to packed earth and narrow lanes that slope steadily downhill. Houses grow sparse, lights fewer, until the dark opens up and the smell of the Baron Sea rolls in heavy with salt and rot.
The docks skirt the edge of Wolf’s Keep, and I keep my head down, counting steps and listening for anything out of place.
This close to the water, the wind sends mist up to swallow the stars.
Between a series of warehouses, wooden piers jut into black water, ropes creaking and ships rocking restlessly against their moorings.
Lanterns flicker low and far apart, their light smeared by fog and spray, and beyond their faint glow is nothing but an endless abyss.
Past the last pier, the land rises again in a ragged line of trees, their branches clawing at the sky.
Jude moves with that easy confidence, whistling under his breath like this is any other night.
Kieren leans close. “See? We’re almost there.”
We’re only a few feet from the docks when Jude stops so suddenly that I nearly run into him.
His head snaps toward the dark between the warehouses, head angled as though he’s caught a sound the rest of us can’t.
Unease prickles over my skin.
“Problem?” Kieren asks.
But Jude doesn’t answer. He lifts a hand without turning around. “Stay close.”
His hand disappears into his coat and reappears with a knife.
Something is wrong.
The words are on my lips, but it’s already too late.
“Run,” Jude shouts as the night explodes around us.
Shadows peel away from the warehouses and spring toward us. But I can’t make my legs move, even when a figure lunges from between two stacked crates and slams into Jude’s back.
There’s a flash of metal. Jude swears and ducks just as a sword carves through the air where his throat was a second before.
He shoves me back hard enough that I stumble, my heel catching on a warped plank. Our packs thud on the wooden pier, and Kieren catches me.
“Get to the trees,” Jude barks, and his knife flashes again as he drives it into the first man who reaches for me. His scream tears through the docks.
For one panicked moment, I wonder if this is Bishop.
If he found the note. If he’s come to stop us, lock me up in Miradores, and drag Kieren back to face charges.
To the left, someone else shouts, “There! That’s the witch!”
At the word, my stomach pitches. It’s not Bishop.
And whoever they are, they aren’t alone. More figures spill from the dark.
There are too many of them.
Kieren’s grip tightens, trying to pull me away. “Arden.”
“Don’t say her name,” Jude growls, as if it’s a lure. He slashes again, buying us a heartbeat. “Get out of here!”
Kieren yanks me forward, dragging me off the pier and onto solid ground.
We sprint toward the dark line of trees.
My legs scream as the ground slants up into scrub and bramble.
Jude is still behind us, snarling curses.
The sound of the fight follows us. Boots skidding. Steel clattering against steel.
I slow for a step. We should go back. We paid him for passage to the Lost Continent. Not to die.
“We have to keep going,” Kieren pants, grabbing my cloak and urging me faster.
I finally look back when we reach the trees, just in time to see a sword pierce Jude’s rib cage. He staggers, one hand going to his side. Something dark gleams between his fingers. Blood. More than a cut. Too much.
He catches my eye for one brief second. His face is grim, almost apologetic.
Like he knows this is it.
Then his knees hit the planks.
“Jude!” His name escapes me in a choked panic.
“Too late. He’s …”
Kieren doesn’t say it. He doesn’t have to.
Boots thud toward us, and he grabs my hand. We run until the dock lights vanish behind us. Branches snatch at my cloak. Thorns scrape my wrists. But we don’t stop running. We stumble over roots and half-buried logs until we reach a fallen evergreen, its rotting trunk large enough to hide us.
Kieren shoves me down behind it and drops beside me, chest heaving.
I collapse, lungs burning along with every muscle in my body. My legs shake so badly, I can’t tell if it’s exhaustion or terror.
“This is my fault,” I whisper. These aren’t soldiers chasing after us. “If I hadn’t …”
Kieren grips my hand. “No.”
“Yes,” I insist, tears blurring the dark edges of the woods. “They’re after me. They don’t care about you or Jude or anyone else.” My throat constricts. “You need to keep going without me.”
“There is no way in all seven hells.”
“Leave me.” My voice cracks on the plea. “Run. They want the witch, not you.”
He grunts, rolling his eyes. “No fucking way.” He squeezes my hand until it hurts, until it anchors me to the world. “You listen to me.” His face is a shadow, but I can feel the steadiness in him, the stubborn warmth that has never truly left me behind. “You’re my sister.”
The words gut me.
Not because it’s a lie. Because it’s true in a way that I’ve never thanked him for and never deserved and never properly earned.
“I’m not leaving my only family,” he says with such certainty that it makes my chest ache.
“Kieren, I …” There is so much I need to say to him, so much I need to apologize for before it’s too late.
I’m searching for the words as a whistle cuts through the night, answered by a low howl. Another howl follows. And another.
Kieren tenses. “We have to move,” he whispers.
We scramble up and start running again, moving deeper into the trees. Away from the docks. Away from Wolf’s Keep.
But with each step, the howls grow closer.
My lungs burn, unable to get enough air, but I don’t slow down.
“They’re gaining,” I choke out.
“I know.” He looks over his shoulder, and his eyes widen. He shoves me forward and starts to turn. “Go!”
I trip, nearly falling, but manage to stay on my feet. “Not without you.”
“I’m right behind you,” he pants.
I dash toward a clearing ahead, his footsteps thundering behind me. The road can’t be far.
The hounds crash closer. Too close.
I keep running, even when my legs want to give out. But it’s not enough.
A snarl splits the dark, so near I feel it in my bones.
Something hits me from the side. Breath hot.
Teeth snapping at my ribs. I scream and kick, and suddenly Kieren is there, swinging his pack like a weapon.
He drives the beast back far enough to push me toward the woods on the other side of the clearing.