“No lords today,” Hodges tuts, scanning the hordes. “Shame, those guys always make it interesting.”
“Are you really still playing ‘lord of hell’ bingo?” I ask, keeping my eyes fixed on the sky above the plains. “You’re never gonna get the full set, Hodges.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. No one’s ever seen the Lord of Malice. He’s probably too busy torturing lost souls to come brawling in Strata.”
Hodges shakes his head, determined. “One day he’ll show, you’ll see.”
I suppress a shiver. I was teasing Hodges, but I sincerely hope he’s wrong. I have no desire for Infernum’s most mysterious resident to visit our realm. Though if the rumors about him are true, the devastation he’d wreak would make for an excellent day of scavenging.
“The ambush worked,” Hodges comments, nodding at the pools of bright green blood dotting the plains as he sizes up the damage. “There’s more demon injuries than usual.”
I scoff dismissively. This war has been raging since before human memory, and it’ll probably keep raging long after we’re both worm food. I don’t care who wins or loses as long as the wingers leave enough of a mess behind to make it worth my while.
The battle’s winding down now. The ephilium have the demons on the retreat, streaming back through the still-open rift to Infernum, blocking any Aradis forces trying to follow. Movement catches my eye on this side of the city wall: a vaguely familiar figure pacing along a narrow ledge.
“We should get going,” I say, recognizing my competition.
“Are you kidding?” Hodges protests. “The rifts haven’t even closed yet.”
“So? They’ll start shutting them down any minute.”How longa rift will stay open—minutes to hours—depends on its size and who’s operating it. But once one is closing, it’s impossible to reverse the process, though I’ve seen more than a few wingers try. “Besides,” I gesture to the figure, who clearly has a rope in hand, ready to descend to the plains at the first opportunity, “Lindon’s vultures are already circling.”
“Lindon can eat demon shit,” Hodges curses. “He doesn’t care if one of his lackeys gets scorched right to Infernum if there’s some loot in it for him. I happen to like staying alive, thanks very much.”
“Then you wait it out here as long as you like,” I say, clambering down to our own rope. “But I’m not sitting around here on my ass while they snatch all the good loot. I’ll meet you back at the Three Bridges, all right?”
“Leah—”
“I can’t waste this chance, Hodges,” I shoot back before he can go on. I wince at the harshness in my voice. He doesn’t deserve that. Hodges haspeople depending on him too. But he’s not trying to escape something like I am. Besides, it’s not like my reckless behavior won’t benefit him too, given we share our earnings. As I wrap my fingers around the rope and look up at him, he offers me an exasperated smile.
“Just be fast, okay? And smart,” he orders.
“Faster and smarter than you, anyway,” I answer with a wink, which earns me another rude gesture as I scramble down the rope.
Quick as a rat, I’m jumping the last few feet to the ground and sliding down the riverbank. A thick clump of reeds clustered at the edge of a small culvert hides my way out of here. The city gates and main waterway won’t open for another few hours at least, when the wardens are sure it’s safe. But by then, the plains will be mostly picked clean. The most successful scavengers find faster ways onto the battlefield, while the ground is still smoking and the blood is still warm.
I tug my homemade raft from out of the reeds, clambering in and letting the water carry me under the culvert and out onto the other side. I’m an all right climber—enough to stop myself falling to my death on the city walls—but lots of the stronger scavengers can scale ropes faster than I ever will. Unlike most ofthem, however, I can swim. That means I can use transportation they avoid for fear of drowning. It takes me into the heart of the battlefield quicker than I’d ever make it on foot.
The water’s muddy with the runoff from the scorched banks. There’s worse debris in these waters than ash, and I try not to look too hard when a flesh-colored object bobs past me.
By the time I’m dragging the raft onto dry land, I’m already half a mile ahead of the other scavengers reckless enough to hit the plains this early. I crouch low among the grasses, scanning the immediate landscape for signs of danger, but the rifts to the other realms are closed now, and only a haze of gray mist and black smoke drifts through the air. Everyone left behind is dead or beyond saving. I do a quick inventory check—my yew bow secured at my back, my satchel at my side—then I start searching.
I move quickly across the ground, scanning as I go. I scoop up a white feather speckled with silver ephilium blood and stuff it into my satchel before darting forward a few more yards toward the glimmer of something wedged under a rock. I tug it from the wet earth with a squelching noiseand wipe it clean. It looks like a single, bent plate from an ephilium’s bracer.
“What’chya got there, Radley?”
I stow the shard of metal deep in my bag as I spin around to face Oxel.
“Nothing,” I say, my hand reaching up to touch the curve of my bow in warning. Oxel’s a skinny, tricksy scavenger who tries to pick people’s pockets on their way back to the city, but he’s not the type to attack out in the open.
Unless he’s looking to try something new…
“Looked like sumthin’.” He squints accusingly at my bag, and my heartbeat speeds up a notch. I pull out the yew bow I picked up on these very plains, sliding an arrow from the sheath at my back.
“Why don’t you go ask one of Lindon’s boys whatthey’vefound, Oxel?” I ask, holding my voice steady. “Or would you rather wait for Hodges? He’ll be here any moment—and then we’ll both kick your creepy ass.”
I don’t actually know where Hodges is right now. He and I have our own scavenging styles and pick our individual routes across the plains, but on the average day, he’s never too far away. We watch each other’s backs.
