Chapter 69
MYRA
The wagon creaked noisily over the cobblestone path.
The wheels scraped against the stones, the sound echoing down the narrow street.
Piles of vegetables were strewn on top of a faded black tarp.
As Bax forced the wagon over a lip in the path, a small onion jumped out and rolled onto the ground.
A muffled "Ow" escaped from the vegetables.
Myra’s brows shot up, but she flattened her expression as a stranger passed by the trio. Rian quickly rubbed his arm and twisted his shadowed features into a pained expression. The woman raised her brows at Myra but carried on down the street, not giving them a second glance.
"Really?" Myra mouthed at Rian, horrified that the woman thought she had smacked him.
Rian shrugged as Bax jostled the wagon.
"Shut it," Bax hissed at the vegetables as a potato rolled down the pile, revealing a soft, white feather.
Myra swiftly rearranged the produce as they hurried through the crowded streets of the lower district.
Laurince had been appalled when Phaia had suggested that he hide in the wagon. But without an alternative solution, he begrudgingly crawled inside it. The wagon was barely wide enough for the tall captain. He had to fold his wings around himself and curl into a ball just to fit.
All around them, pedestrians walked with brisk paces, their heads on a constant swivel as they glanced over their shoulders.
Across the street, a man hurried over to a woman and a child who were peering into the window of a bakery.
Slipping a hand around the woman’s waist, the man whispered into her ear.
The woman’s eyes widened, and she tucked her child closer to her side as they rushed down the street.
Word of the incoming soldiers was spreading fast across the capital.
Apprehension and panic drenched the streets, pouring down them like a heavy stream during a storm.
All around them, doors slammed shut, shutters banged closed.
Those who hadn’t heard about the rumors yet were quickly noticing the uneasiness of the others, their steps quickening.
"We need to hurry," Rian whispered, head low.
The soldiers hadn’t made it to this part of the capital, but they would be here soon. It was only a matter of—
A high-pitched scream sounded behind them.
The pile of vegetables shook, and a few rolled to the side.
"Don’t look," Bax ordered, his shoulders raising to his neck. But even he had a hard time not looking when a woman screamed in terror.
Despite knowing they shouldn’t, all three glanced over their shoulders, and the wheels of the wagon halted.
Up the street, a guard shoved a woman against the window of a store.
Her head hit the glass so hard that a crack spider-webbed across it.
Those nearby stumbled in their tracks, their faces paling in horror. Many quickened their paces as a result.
The guard shouted at the woman, spit flying into her face with each syllable. "Where is he?"
"I-I don’t know," the woman stammered, her brown skin taking on a sickly hue.
"You do not know where your husband is?" the guard demanded.
"No, I—he ran to the market."
"Yet he is not there. So again, tell me, where is Han Morecaster?"
Myra sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of Laurince’s cousin.
Another potato rolled to the side as the pile vibrated more violently.
Returning the vegetables to their places, Myra reached for the thread of emotion beneath them.
The temperature was rising, and quickly at that.
She poured calming thoughts down the line, and the produce stopped moving.
It would sedate Laurince for now, but not for long. It was a bandage and nothing more.
The guard yanked the woman by the elbow.
Fury rose within Myra, and even though she needed to preserve her strength, she would not let the guard harm Han’s wife.
She gripped the guard’s emotions. Frustration, anger, and greed soaked the thread so violently she nearly released it in horror.
But she held onto it, digging deep within herself, finding any emotion, any memory she could use to her advantage.
She poured it down the thread of emotions.
The guard’s hand uncurled around the woman’s arm. He fell to his knees and sobbed as the new emotions of embarrassment, shame, and horror overtook him.
"What the—"
"We need to go," Myra interrupted Bax, charging forward. She didn’t have time to explain. The woman was already running away from the guard, no questions asked. That was what mattered.
But when Myra didn’t hear the creaking of the wagon’s wheels, she spun around and glared at Bax, who stood still, dumbfounded.
"Now," she demanded.
Bax finally looked away from the guard crumpled on the ground.
"Nice work," Rian whispered in her ear as he hurried down the street beside her.
Despite the praise, guilt sat heavily in her stomach.
Myra refused to think about it too long, though, lest she wished for it to pull her down.
She had to get Rian and Laurince out of there.
They were outnumbered. If the guards found them again, she didn’t think Sebastian would let them escape a second time.
They made their way down the streets, passing more guards who were too busy breaking into shops and houses. They ignored closed signs and locked doors, kicking them down instead of waiting for someone to unlock them.
Myra did her best to keep her gaze forward. More than once she caught Rian glancing back, hesitating. While most of his features were cast in shadows from his low hood, his mouth was set in a grim line.
"Keep moving," Bax commanded, his voice tight.
Rian reluctantly put one foot in front of the other. He couldn’t help his people if he were dead.
At every slam of a door, Myra jumped. At every cry, she grimaced.
She helped as many people as she could, turning guards away from their victims, immobilizing them with an overabundance of emotion.
Myra’s well of power was deep, but she feared what would happen when she inevitably reached the bottom, when she could no longer help those escape the onslaught of the guards.
Some of the nearby pedestrians began jogging instead, dipping down the nearest street to get away from the guards.
But their trio was slower, the wagon preventing them from running.
Myra spotted someone eyeing them and whispering to their friend about abandoning the wagon if they were them.
But Myra would not let that happen. They were all going to get out of there alive.
Glass shattered as a person flew through a nearby window.
A guard jumped through the broken window, his boots crunching the glass.
Slipping two fingers in his mouth, he whistled, and a squadron of guards came sprinting through the streets.
The guard shoved his thumb toward the building he had exited.
With his other hand, he snatched the man who was trying to crawl away by the collar.
"Han," Myra gasped, recognizing Laurince’s cousin. She tried to reach out, to grab the guard’s emotions, but they slipped through her hands. The emotions were too bright, too violent.
"No, no, no," Myra mumbled as she scrambled to find more of her power. She was reaching the bottom of her well, and she was too far from the guard to get a strong enough hold.
Banging sounded from inside the building the guards had entered. A group of men came storming out, swords swinging.
Bax cursed, and the wagon stopped moving.
"Take it and go. I’ll catch up," he instructed, ducking beneath the bar and racing to the side of the wagon. He pulled out a short sword and brandished it as he sprinted toward Han.
Rian glanced between the wagon and the fight, hesitating.
Myra tugged on Rian’s arm. "No, you can’t. You heard Bax. We need to go. Now."
"I can’t leave them!" Rian tugged his arm free. "I can’t abandon my people."
The guards outnumbered them two-to-one. Han’s right eye was swollen, and another man was limping, blood trailing down his leg.
"If they see you, you’re dead. How are you going to help your people, then?"
Rian looked at Myra, and she already knew he had made up his mind.
"I’m sorry, Mys."
"You’ll die!" she said, her vision already blurring.
Rian pulled out the sword Bax had swiped for them from beneath his cloak. "I’d rather be dead than be known as a king who ran from his kingdom. Take him and get out of here."
Then he was off before she could even respond.
"Shit," Myra hissed, pressing her hands against her head. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She looked at the bar of the wagon.
Strangers ran past her, the desire to be inconspicuous long since abandoned as a brawl broke out in the middle of the street.
Bax was already at the center of the fight.
He ripped a guard off one man who was struggling to stand his ground.
As Rian sprinted toward them, a guard turned around.
His eyes widened momentarily before raising his weapon.
Rian attacked, but the guard blocked the strike.
Metal clashed against metal as the two men struck again and again.
As Bax fought his opponent, he spotted Rian in the corner of his eye. But he couldn’t voice an objection as the guard swung at his head. Bax rolled, narrowly missing the blade.
A few feet from them, Han was on the ground, fighting off another guard.
A hand popped out of the wagon, and Myra raced over, trying to shove it back. "No, you can’t. If the people see you—" Myra choked on her words as Laurince ignored her pleas and burst through the pile of vegetables. His eyes bled black, his rage pouring from him.
She reached for him, but his wrath slipped through her fingers, the anger and rage too bright to diminish.
"Get out of here!" Laurince shouted.
Myra lurched forward, but Laurince was quicker. He shot through the air, sword in hand.
When he met his first opponent, Laurince was merciless. His blade sliced through the air like water. Upon seeing the man with wings, the remaining gawking civilians ran in terror, screaming.
Myra felt for the small knife he had given her inside her pocket. She palmed the hilt, shifting from one foot to the other. But who was she kidding? If she joined, she would only get in the way. Her few training sessions with Laurince did not make her a fighter. Yet she needed to do something.
An explosion shook the ground, and a plume of dark smoke billowed into the air. Screams filled the streets. Feet pounded on the ground. A flurry of guards and civilians ran toward them. Fights broke out on every corner.
Another explosive went off, and she reached for the wagon to steady herself.
Explosive after explosive sounded. Her ears rang. Her legs trembled.
She spun around, searching for a safe path out. But there were no tunnels. There was no escape. All around her, guards and civilians fought. Glass shards and blood quickly covered the pavement.
Her attention flicked back to the brawl where her friends fought. Brilliant wings sparkled in the sunlight.
Myra tightened her grip around the hilt.
She was not weak.
She was not a burden.
She was not afraid of death.
With a war cry spilling from her mouth, Myra charged.