Shey Thrudesh-Vo #2
“Shey, I’ll be okay. It’s dangerous, but I have the best chance of getting through to Haru while we wait for you to bring us Adrian. I need to fix this.”
Those last five words left Shey sick. He didn’t know what Tyche meant by fixing it, but he hoped it wasn’t something dire.
“Come back to me. Both of you.”
A crooked grin spread across Tyche’s lips. “Of course. You know I’m not the self-sacrificing type. I’m a god.”
Shey smiled in return, though he didn’t feel it.
Tyche was trying to make a joke, but Shey didn’t believe him for a second.
Maybe Tyche wasn’t normally the type to sacrifice himself, but Shey knew he felt responsible for what was happening to Haru.
He would fix this even if it meant jumping into harm’s way.
“Now”—Tyche slapped his hands together and rubbed them—“what do you have that’s fast and can get through that mess?”
Shey looked at his beloved city that was growing darker and more chaotic by the minute. The streets were going to be clogged with cars and people attempting to either escape or find shelter farther away from Haru’s location. An idea struck him, and he chuckled.
“Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle?”
Shey had never regretted words more in his life.
Not only was the God of Luck familiar with motorcycles, but he loved them.
The wily creature hopped onto the motorcycle that was reserved for the royal escort services when a member of the royal family traveled through the city on official business.
Tyche had no problem revving the engine and almost rode off without a helmet, ready to race through the dangerous streets of Sirelis.
Shey thrust a helmet into Tyche’s chest and stole a blistering kiss, his fingers tangled in all that silken red hair.
A knot of emotions formed over his lungs, nearly choking him, but there was no time to untangle them.
All he could do was kiss Tyche and pray that he had enough luck to survive what he had planned.
Shey released him to find Tyche blushing bright red. His puffy lips turned up into a soft, nervous smile, but he hid it all under the helmet. Tyche didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. He revved the engine again and raced off with a squeal of tires and smoke.
With a curse, Shey jammed a helmet down on his head and sped off a minute behind Tyche.
He glimpsed the God of Luck as he disappeared into the darkness, the light from his motorcycle swallowed up within seconds so that there was just the faint scream of the engine as he roared away.
His heart squeezed until he felt as if it were going to turn to dust. Nothing could happen to him.
He shoved the thought aside and turned his motorcycle in the opposite direction.
Ash Row—named for the ash trees that used to grow there long before Shey was ever born—was about as far as a person could get from the palace and still be within Sirelis.
By car, it would usually take about twenty minutes to reach the area.
He was hoping he could cut that time to ten minutes on the motorcycle.
Especially since he didn’t need to obey any of the traffic laws.
The bike’s engine roared out of the motor pool that held a vast assortment of vehicles for the transport of the royal family, other government officials, and the security force.
The guards protecting the palace darted away from the gates as he rushed past and then hurried to close them again.
More than one security officer within the palace had argued about allowing them to send even a minimal number of guards with him to keep him safe, but Shey had rejected them all.
He’d almost assigned some to Tyche, but one dark look from the minor god had him swallowing the words.
Getting close to Haru was going to be tricky enough.
If the dragon saw a bunch of unknown armed men approaching, it wouldn’t end well for anyone.
No, Tyche’s chances improved if he went alone.
Shey raced through the streets, weaving between cars and narrowly missing pedestrians who stood in the middle of the stopped traffic, pointing at the sky in wonder.
The roads closest to the palace were still moving somewhat normally, but as he left the wide boulevard and headed south, the streets became more congested with vehicles and people.
He darted here and there. A police officer moved to intercept him, waving him off.
Shey only had to push the button for the small horn.
The cop recognized the pitch of the honk and moved out of the way.
The sound was something that only vehicles in the royal motor pool could use, and the police knew to let that person pass.
Unfortunately, that was just for the police.
Most of the city’s citizens didn’t know the sound and refused to move.
Some people stood in clumps on the sidewalk or even in the middle of the street, pointing at the sky and talking to each other with fearful gazes.
Others wisely rushed along in search of shelter, clutching a bag of groceries or a crying child to them.
These frightened people reminded him too much of the last attack on Sirelis, when New Rosanthe sent their ships into the city’s harbor as if they planned to invade Caspagir just like they did Erya.
At the same time, Caelan met with Kaes and accepted powers from the God of Storms. The resulting hurricane that lashed Sirelis had resulted in devastating flooding and fires.
It had taken the city months to recover.
And now a mad dragon with the powers of the Goddess of Nightmares was in their midst.
A great shaking ripped Shey from his thoughts.
He jerked on the brakes, skidding to a stop that sent the bike sliding sideways into a parked car.
He halted in time to put one foot on the bumper of the old sedan and looked up to see the road crack open.
The car in front of him slipped forward, falling into the opening like a monster swallowed it.