40. Ash
Ash
The rain came down in relentless sheets, turning the streets of Norwich into rivers of filth. I dragged the back of my hand across my face, smearing rain and sweat together, then glanced down at my gloves. Blood had settled into the seams of the leather, stubborn as sin.
Stanley, one of Garrick’s debtors, groaned beneath me, curled around himself like he thought it might protect what I’d already broken.
It didn’t.
“Last chance,” I muttered flatly, already knowing how this would end.
He spat something that might’ve been a curse.
It took one more punch. His head snapped to the side, and with it, his resolve. Coin changed hands not long after shaking fingers, wide eyes, fear finally doing what words couldn’t.
It was just another day carrying out Garrick’s work. Collect the debts, break the stubborn ones, and leave just enough of them intact to crawl back with the rest. Yesterday had been about warnings. Today would be different; Garrick didn’t tolerate lateness.
And he certainly didn’t care for excuses.
I stepped back out into the rain, rolling my shoulders as the familiar tension settled. That was the trick. Don’t think. Just move. Just do.
I ducked beneath the slanted overhang of a shop roof, the wood dripping at its edges. My fingers worked the small pouch at my side open, pulling free a strip of dried jerky. It was tough, nearly flavorless, but it filled the ache of hunger.
Across the street, a tavern glowed like a beacon, with warm light spilling from its windows, laughter muffled beneath the storm. Music drifted out every time the door opened.
I leaned my shoulder against the wall, chewing, eyes fixed on the flickering silhouettes inside. And just like that, I was there.
Not here. Not in the rain. Not in this cursed city.
There. Claire’s hand in mine, her laugh ringing louder than the music as she stumbled through a dance she didn’t quite know. The way her nose wrinkled when she took her first sip of rum, like she was offended it dared taste so strong. The warmth in her cheeks, the glow in her eyes—
Gods.
I could still see them. Those soft brown eyes, wide with wonder. That dimpled smile that made something tight in my chest loosen. A smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it.
It didn’t last.
A rush of wings cut through the rain. The raven landed beside me with a sharp tap of claws against wood, feathers slick with water as it shook itself out. It turned its head and fixed me with that knowing, unblinking stare.
I exhaled through my nose, tilting my head back against the wall.
“Can’t even finish a meal,” I muttered.
I reluctantly pushed off the wall and stepped back into the storm, the rain immediately soaking through what little dryness I’d managed to achieve. My boots splashed hard against the flooded streets as I broke into a jog.
Two weeks in this city, and already my body reacted before my mind could catch up. The sound of that damn bird had become a summons etched into bone. Garrick’s leash.
I made my way toward the stables, the wind biting through wet fabric and into skin. By the time I reached Esther, I was already moving on instinct.
Swing up. Settle in. Ride.
Esther shifted beneath me, restless in the storm, but responded the moment I clicked my tongue. We pushed through the streets at a steady canter, weaving past shuttered stalls and the few fools still caught out in the weather.
I hated this city. I hated every slick stone, every shadowed alley, every gilded lie wrapped in silk and coin. I hated the way it swallowed people whole and called it order. But deeper than that, I hated being away from Caspian. And Claire—
I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on the reins.
Claire.
I forced my focus forward, eyes cutting through the rain.
She was safe. That’s what mattered. She wasn’t caught in Garrick’s web.
Maybe she was already on her way home. Maybe she’d reached it by now, back where the air was clean, where the nights were quiet, where she could laugh without looking over her shoulder.
Where she could forget all about me.
A bitter longing twisted low in my chest.
Good.
That was the point, wasn’t it? Better for her to forget and move on. I urged my horse faster as the city blurred around me.
If she was safe, that was enough.