And right now, they’re frothing for me to bring Cainon to his fuckingknees—just like Zali said.
Except that’s not what we agreed upon.
My face contorts, and I tip it to the sky, fiery rage billowing up my throat in a raspy scream I pour upon the stars.
I pluck beads of luster from my dim and dusky insides, molding them into a small stack of crystal domes I use to catch my hate, my hurt, my sorrow. Separately, I button each wrestling emotion against my ravaged insides, then pluck the petals of my morality, too—stuffing them beneath a fourth dome. Sealed away like a sparkly mushroom patch.
A heavy calm settles upon me as my scream tapers. Still, I study the stars while chilling cries and gurgled moans echo from below, the souls of the dead rising up to haunt me, dragging their ghostly fingers across my pebbling skin.
Sacrifices.
I think I’m finally starting to understand.
Iland heavily upon the stone back on the safe side of the wall and shake out my hands, glancing up at the lightening sky.
I need to get back.
My domes quake, like everything tucked beneath them disagrees. The one containing my rage rattles the most—hairline fissures crackling through the sparkly surface.
I bog up the gaps, paint them each in another layer of light, and stumble a step toward my stuff tucked beside the wall.
After securing Rhordyn’s sword down my spine, I heft the satchel over my shoulder and begin moving down the tight alleyway.
Two broad-shouldered men dressed in the decorated garb of a palace guard ease around the corner, cutting off the exit—each heavy-booted step echoing off the wall, stoning the silence.
I slow at the sight of the gold-tipped spears strapped to their backs. At the surly looks on their clean-shaven faces—barely visible in the dull light.
Perhaps they’re just … out for a stroll. Fully armed. At four in the morning.
Doubtful.
If they see me with Rhordyn’s sword, I’m fucked. There will be questions that all point in the same damning direction.
That I killed the western High Master.
I backstep, almost tripping over my feet as I spin, bursting out of the opposite exit just before two more charging guards have a chance to box me in. I dodge them, ducking a swoop of snatching hands that skim the top of my head.
Crap—crap—crap—
I sprint down the street, my heart a drum in my chest. Commanding bellows and boots pounding the cobbles draw people to their windows and out their front doors.
Muddying the situation even further.
I sidestep toward a dark alley, stumble for traction as my feet slip on the slick cobblestones. Slamming my hand down to steady myself, I throw a glance over my shoulder to see a stampede of gold-plated guards gushing down the street, whisking the smog.
Coming straight for me.
Where the hell did they evencomefrom? Shouldn’t they be sleeping?
I charge down the alley, dashing wet laundry out of my way, leaping over fallen bins and puddles of piss while I muddle over my predicament.
This changes things …
I really,reallyhave to get back to Zali so we can formulate a new plan now that Cainon has set his dogs on me.
Exploding free of the alley, I dart down another that’s almost too thin for me to fit through. Cutting a glance behind me, I see a guard trying to follow, but his inflated chest plate makes it impossible for him to jiggle sideways like I am; trying to prevent them from getting a good look at the sword strapped to my back.
I pick up my pace, biting my bottom lip in concentration as Ijiggle.
