I stand in the doorway longer than I mean to, letting the quiet soak into my bones. Then I shake the thoughts loose and make for the bath. The tub is small, the water lukewarm. Kaelis’s would be far more comfortable…
My thoughts wander to him. To me pressed against the mirror. It’s so mild compared to other things we’ve done, yet I think about it like a new obsession. Enough that I’m fighting my hand from slipping between my legs and using the water as a lubricant.I need to stay focused.
When I return, freshly dressed in nondescript basics I found at the bottoms of the drawers still full of clothes tailored perfectly to my size, Kaelis is already waiting in similar clothes—gray cloak, worn boots, a neutral tunic that makes him look irritatingly handsome for someone trying to be forgettable.
We wind our way through the lower levels of the academy and across the bridge in silence. The crypt just on the other side of the bridge is as quiet as the old graveyard beyond it. Kaelis checks the exit first, peering out.
He gives me a small nod. “All clear.”
The graveyard greets us like an old ghost. We emerge from the mausoleum into a shaft of bright morning sunlight that nearly blinds me. I squint, pausing to fill my lungs with air, nearly to the point of bursting.
Kaelis watches me, lingering in the shadows, his eyes unreadable.
“Well, does the air taste the same in your altered body?” he asks finally.
“It tastes like freedom.” The breeze carries my soft words. Can I really move around freely? Even before I went to Halazar the first time, I always had to be cautious—to constantly look over my shoulder. I’ve been hunted for one reason or another since I was a girl. The notion of possessing true freedom almost seems too good to be true.
I start walking into the city. Kaelis lags behind. Now and then I glance over my shoulder, ensuring he’s still there, especially as I enter the city limits.
The streets of Eclipse City are as chaotic and loud as ever—nobles stroll about, merchants set up their shops, the aroma of bread hangs in the air, beggars shake their cups, and there’s the occasional flare of magic. People jostle past me without a second glance. I’m just another face in the crowd. Not a fugitive. Just…someone. Anyone. And, by the Twenty, it’s intoxicating.
After I use the World, this will be my life.
Kaelis continues to follow me at a respectable distance—close enough that he could reach me with a card if something went wrong, but far enough away that he’s little more than another shadow moving through the noise.
And yet, I feel him. Always.
I boldly stride along the main street. It’s the most direct route, and the most likely to be patrolled by enforcers or Ravin’s Stellis. The only true test of my disguise is to put myself right in front of the danger. The first batch of enforcers move past me with little more than a glance. I turn into the main square, intending to cut through River Park for Fated Heights.
I’ve taken only a few steps into the square when a hand closes over my upper arm. Firm. Leather-gloved.
My body tenses instantly, instincts flaring. I barely refrain from drawing a card.Breathe, Clara.I turn slowly.
An enforcer stares down at me with an expression of cruel triumph. My blood goes cold.
“Got you.”
Chapter 29
I smile slowly, and hope it looks sweet rather than I-am-one-thought-away-from-killing-you murderous. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“Nice try, but you fit her description perfectly,” he says.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic.Don’t panic.
The Feast of Cups comes to mind: Kaelis telling me to wait, to be patient, that he would come to my aid. But I panicked then. Maybe I still would’ve ended up in Halazar had I remained calm. Maybe Kaelis wouldn’t have been able to divert them. But I’ll never know.
I lost my composure then, but I don’t now. Kaelis is only a few steps behind me, and I know he’ll step in if this goes wrong.
“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say coolly, pitching up my voice slightly and putting it more toward the front of my face.Not quite full-on noble clan–born. But clearly from a well-off family.I’m already crafting a persona to match my new face.
His grip tightens. “Next you’re going to try to tell me that you weren’t just in Malazar’s Emporium.”
“You’re absolutely right. I was not. I would never be caught dead in that half-rate supply shop.” My judgmental tone becomes genuine. Malazar is known for cutting his arcane powders with plain ink. Any cards made with it are incredibly weak—if they work at all.
“Malazar just said someone went through his shop and when they left, his shelves were two bottles of powder lighter, and you fit the description of that someone perfectly.”
This isn’t about me.I fight the biggest smile. To think this man has the woman responsible for demolishing Halazar in his custody and is falsely accusing her of some petty crime.
