“Put it back, thief.”
He stepped through the archway, his brow furrowed, his blade pointed at her chest.
Asha had two choices: bolt and risk getting run through, or push back her hood and hope his fear of the Iskari would override all other sense. She was about to choose the latter when her brother entered the room.
“Well,thisis interesting.”
“My lord,” said the soldat, who hadn’t recognized Asha yet. “She’s stolen the flame.”
When she didn’t move, Dax held out his hand. “Give me your sword. I’ll hold the thief here, you get help.”
The soldat nodded. Asha watched the young man run, shouting the alarm. Telling the entire palace about the thief in the throne room.
The moment he left, Dax lowered the blade.
“I don’t know what you’re doing, little sister”—he glanced over his shoulder—“but you’d better scurry.”
Asha’s eyes pricked with tears of relief.
“Go!”
Nodding, she ran past him, hiding the lantern in the folds of her mantle, snuffing out its unnatural glow.
As soon as she could turn the corner, she did. As soon as she could start to run without drawing attention, she ran. And assoon as there was an arching glassless window, she climbed out of it and onto the roof.
Which was when shouts of alarm rose up behind her.
The thief had been spotted.
Twenty-Five
Asha ran.
She ran across twilight-soaked rooftops and scrambled over plaster walls. She ran through crowded alleys and across chaotic squares.
But the sky was empty now. No dragon soared. Torwin had moved on to the second part of their plan. She needed to meet him at the temple.
She ducked into doorways and shop fronts when one or more soldats came into view. She stayed there until they passed, listened to them describe the cloaked thief from the palace.
Asha raced all the way to the temple, not even trying to keep to the shadows now. Beneath a pomegranate tree’s bright orange flowers, Asha buckled the lantern to her belt, then grabbed the lowest branch and hoisted herself up. She launched herself at the first-floor window and pulled herself inside, the lantern knocking loudly against the sill.
Asha flinched, waiting for the Old One to strike her downfor being so careless with his sacred flame.
Mercifully, he stayed his hand.
Asha flew down the vaulted stairway and into the darkness of the temple crypt. She needed to get in, get to Torwin, and get out. As quickly as possible.
She passed the alcove that hid the entrance to her secret tunnel, but Torwin wasn’t there.
Asha moved deeper in, her heart racing, the blazing light of her lantern illuminating the rock walls.
What if he didn’t make it?
As if in answer to her unvoiced question, a glow flickered in the distance.
Asha’s pace quickened. She passed through the empty outer caves, their walls glistening with moisture. The air was damp and cool here, like a cellar. At the doorway to the inner sanctum, Asha stopped, thinking of the one and only time she’d been here before. The day her mother died. The day the Old One corrupted her for good.
Torwin stared up at the walls, her hunting axe tucked in his belt. Except for the glow of his lamp, keeping him alight, the sanctum was veiled in darkness.
