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A bang on the door comes again. Angry orders follow. Yet all I can hear is blood thumping in my ears. I climb the stairs, stumbling on the last step, clutching the wall so I don’t fall back down.
“Valdus, is it?” I halt when I recognize Togar’s raspy voice.
Anger is a burning liquid in my veins. I haven’t forgotten my promise. My brother won’t torment this desert any longer. I grip my sword, and the metal unfurls in a hushed whisper.
“Depends on who’s asking,” Valdus answers with defiance ringing through the kitchen.
When a loud crack of a fist on skin and bone follows, I rush back down, but when the next person speaks, my foot freezes over the last step.
“My Wraiths are not here for you to bring torment on the folk of this desert.”
I know that voice. I know it from hours spent on the rattling train with him. But what is he doing here?
His Wraiths?
“You do as you are told,” Togar says, spite coloring his voice.
A silence follows, and I dare to peek around the corner just as Bonar cross the kitchen in the same silent whoosh I’ve seen other Wraiths use when they’re tapping into the power bestowed on them by Livith. His unveiled features tower over my brother, his tracks an unfurling blackness. Togar stumbles back, but a wall stops his retreat.
“You’re right,” Bonar says in a voice darker than the starless night. “Wraiths follow Our Sun and Light’s orders to the last dot, and we are here to bring peace and order to The Broken Sands. By the will of Livith.”
Something makes a clicking sound and when Bonar steps away, I see Togar gripping his stomach where blood flows through his fingers. It seems not all of his tricks include powers granted by Livith. He also has hidden blades on him. How did I befriend such a powerful man?
A tired sigh brings my attention back to the kitchen. Rev walks across the room just as Togar slides down to the floor, leaving a wet crimson trace on the wall.
“I can’t say this is unfortunate,” Rev says, his deep voice echoing through every inch of the room. He kneels next to Togar as my brother fumbles for anything to stop his bleeding, but as Rev tilts his head, I know his breaths are numbered. “He was working on my nerves.”
Rev climbs back to his feet and turns to Bonar just as Togar’s gaze grows blank. “It seems we’ve abused the Wraiths’ faith in the empire and for that I ask for your forgiveness, Bonar of the House of The Veiled Rock.”
Bonar wipes the blade on a towel he has picked up from the table. When he talks, his voice is a dark echo of how he talked with me on the train. “We’ve found what we came here for. A woman guilty of the worst crime, draining what little life there is in this desert. I’m sure Our Sun and Light will serve justice as he sees fit.”
Bonar turns to the door, but Rev isn’t done.
“Before you go, I would ask one last thing of you,” he says, glancing at Valdus with a smirk tugging on the sharp angles of his face. “We must be sure that her influence hasn’t spread to her son. So, would the glorious Wraith help me with this simple task?”
Bonar’s answer is a simple nod. No matter what deal he has struck with Valdus, he has to protect himself.
One step, that’s all it takes.
He halts mid step. His shoulders tense, straining the fabric of his clothing. His eyes search my face, run over each new scar as if committing it to memory, and finally meet my gaze.
“If not, I’ll do it myself.”
Bonar puts his hand out, halting my father’s personal guard before he can see me. “I’ll do it, but then my Wraiths are leaving.”
Bonar’s eyes never leave mine, narrowing, willing me to run, as if telling me that if he catches me, safety won’t be an option.
While Rev starts interrogating Valdus, I take the stairs as fast as I can without making too much noise and close the door to Valdus’s room behind me.
I pray for Evanae to give me more time as I reveal the hidden cupboard. Stacking all the maps in a neat pile, I stand up. My hands shaking, some slide all the way down to the floor and slip under the bed. Clutching the few that remain from the stack, I fall to my knees and scramble to gather the rest as the sound of footsteps on the stairs reaches my ears.
I don’t dare to stop but rush to the closet as soon as the last parchment is back in my hands. The false back of the closet gives under my touch, and I crawl inside the hidden compartment.
As the steps grow closer, I dare one last glance around the room. A glimmer catches my eyes, and I curse.
The guns.
“Evanae, give me strength,” I murmur and dart to the desk. Four revolvers are all I can carry, and I run to the closet to dump them inside. A creak of the door across the hall grates on my ears, but I don’t stop even for a second. “Livith, shield me from my enemies,” I add as I grab the other four pistols.
