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“Doing all right there, Rebel Princess?” he mouths.
“You know that one day you’re going to say it too loud and we’re all going to be in trouble.”
The drum of Valdus’s fingers on the metal table tells us to stop bickering, but Numair doesn’t seem to care this time. “If you ever change your mind, we can always find another way. Ain’t a soul who’ll say a word about it.”
“I’m not the weak point of this mission,” I say. “I won’t be. Not for the ones who are waiting for us.”
I jump down from my bunk, rolling my mattress and gathering my things. As the train breaks into the city, I slide into a seat next to Valdus and clutch my backpack tighter to my chest. The Shadow City never felt like home, but a little nostalgia still finds its way under my skin.
It must be the two weeks on a train with no privacy.
I close my eyes and count my breaths as people in our car shuffle around, packing their bags and calming down their squabbling children. When the train comes to a full stop with a sharp jolt, Kir breaks the silence.
“It was nice meeting you,” he says. “Until the next time Evanae makes our paths cross.”
We all nod, and he guides his girls down onto the platform where they jump up and down, the energy suppressed for a week, finally bursting free.
It takes a long time for all the passengers to leave the car, and somehow, we find ourselves face to face with an angry conductor, blowing his whistle and hustling every man off the train. On the crowded platform, the passengers are yet to move inside the train station.
Some have come from as far as The Sour Peaks, others joined from towns closer but still a desert apart. They crossed the empire in hopes of a brighter future, but few had anything planned beyond their arrival. Some will be lucky and will find work at the palace or any of the shabby establishments spread across the city. Others will beg for coins to afford a meal every few days at best. If they don’t fall into the hands of the gangs roaming the streets, that is. Even I can spot the handymen of The Lords of the Slums lurking on the platform between befuddled passengers and numerous guards.
When Priya and Izod finally enter the train station, Numair pulls away from where he was standing a few feet away. We all agreed it was safe to split in smaller groups, but as I can feel the soldiers watching us, I start to doubt our plan. With the number of people dwindling on the platform, the ones that are left are the most prone to cause trouble, but we can’t leave yet. Not until Numair has passed the last check before the freedom of The Shadow City.
“They’re staring,” I mutter.
Intent on the slabs of stones below my feet, I can still see the soldiers. Their gazes sweep the platform but stop on our group a few seconds too long.
“I know,” Valdus answers.
“We have to move.”
“Not yet.”
“I’m not ready for another interrogation,” I say when I see a guard finally set his unmoving gaze on us. “I’m not sure we’ll be as lucky as the last time.”
Valdus doesn’t answer and when the soldier who was looking at us motions to his comrade, I grab Valdus’s gloved hand and pull him toward the train station. We’re showing our tags to the guards who filter everyone who goes inside only moments after Numair crossed the threshold. If they stop us, it could mean trouble for him, but if we don’t pass now, we’ll be in my father’s dungeons much sooner than expected.
The guard gives my tags a closer inspection, but waves us through before the pair from the platform can come closer.
Walking as fast as we can without breaking into a run, we dash into the city.
The streets blaze under the midday sun with only ragtag groups venturing into the heat. Valdus drags me through empty alleys and up narrow streets. We dart through an abandoned house, back onto another street, through what once was a window and around a corner until we end up in front of a house boarded up with metal panels. Valdus takes his gloves off and puts his hand on the metal.
Footsteps are getting closer with each breath I take, and while metal cringes under Valdus’s touch, quivering away from the wall, I’m not sure he’ll be fast enough to pry it open.
I take my swords out of the backpack and drop it on the ground so it won’t hinder me if the fight breaks. Or rather, when.
I can hear the guards’ steps around the corner, their arrival imminent, but I won’t back away from a fight anymore. My swords unfurling, I turn to face them.
39
Valdus yanks me into a cramped space of a small room that once must have been an entrance to a majestic house. Now the roof has crumbled over old furniture, cutting off any possibility of escape.
A finger to his lips, Valdus motions for silence as the sheet of metal takes a fraction of a second to shift back in place.
“My backpack,” I murmur, turning back as if the wall would part to show me the street, but the only thing coming to my senses is the click of boots on stones and strain of armor as the guards circle a dead end.
“What now?” I add, unable to hold the silent tension rippling through the space between us.
