Page 186 of Fallacies

Assuming he stuck to the plan, the Hound is already exiting the dungeons, doing a sweep of the path we will take through to the servant tunnels. With this many Sol about to move through the Estate, we need him to eliminate any threat and make sure it remains clear.

My job is to follow the end of the line, ensure that every last one makes it out, and cross my fingers that when they get to Callan…there won’t be a ward blocking them in.

43

Callan

It’s been too long, I think, as Devon and I wait by the gates to the Estate.

I have a sick feeling in my stomach, and I’m driving myself to insanity, tilting my head at odd angles and trying to catch a glimpse of the ward that I’m praying isn’t there.

I can’t tell if it’s gone or not. It’s too bright with the red sky above us to see the shimmer in it.

Devon exhales, his breath a white cloud in front of him, eyes pinned on the servant entrance. If he’s worried at all, he won’t dare let on. That would be detrimental to my own faith, and I’m barely holding it together as is.

I believe in Lucina, I really do, but there’s so much risk of error in this, and that’s just our side of the plan. I have no idea what Lucina had to pull off inside to get this far. I have no idea what she risked or didn’t. If she’s hurt, if she’s caught…

If the ward is still up, there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it, and even then…

I scrub my hand over my face, glancing once more to Devon, then darting my attention skyward at the explosion that cracks from the other side of the Estate.

Pax and Phoenix are still sending up flares at random spots in the Madwood, drawing whoever has given chase further out, but there’s only so long that they keep it up. There’s only so long until they’re caught, and the Rogues catch on to the distraction.

I turn back to face Devon, but my gaze snaps on a flash of movement. A ripple of fabric behind one of the pillars lining the gate.

Blood rushes to my ears, blocking out the buzz of the night, and I take a sharp step forward.

Devon puts his arm out over my chest, and it shouldn’t make me as mad as it does, but anger erupts beneath my skin. I slap his hand away with more force than it required and surge towards the pillar.

“Cal,” his tone is sharp, “wait.”

I must have given him the impression that he’s allowed to give me orders.

There’s another flash of movement, and I can see the tail end of someone’s skirts as they push themselves against the column. An attempt to hide.

Pulling a dagger from my side, I stalk closer, my footsteps dull against the cold ground. My body slips into an eerie state of calm, moving through the motions on muscle memory alone. All I can hear is my own heartbeat, thundering through every cell, every organ. It’s impossible not to surrender myself to it. To allow the ebb and flow of power to control my limbs, my thoughts.

This is the predator Delia raised, I think, as I approach the pillar, noting a sharp inhale of breath that hadn’t come from me.

As soon as I’m in arm's reach, a woman takes off in the opposite direction. She’s running at full speed, away from the gate and into the city.

At first I don’t give chase, not wanting to risk being led into a trap of some kind, but when she glances over her shoulder to see if I’m following, the flash of her yellow eyes has me launching into a sprint.

My vision vibrates as I eat up the ground, moving much faster than she can. The thundering in my chest reaches a new pace, thumping so violently against my rib cage that for a moment I think I’ll vomit up my heart.

The Rogue dives into a nearby building, and I throw myself in after her.

She’s a threat. To our home, our people, our plan. She could ruin everything, and threats must be eliminated. We’re too close now to risk it.

She’s stumbling to her feet when I grab her shoulder, spin her around, and sink my dagger into her chest.

It all happens so fast. The widening of her eyes, the dark blood seeping from the wound, the sagging of her body. I keep my knife there until her eyes roll back, and when I drag it back out, she falls to the floor.

The pounding of my heart gives way to a shrill ringing in my ears, rising to a pitch so loud my body begins to vibrate with it.

“Boss!” I spin around to see Devon in the doorway, glaring back at me. His attention drifts to the scene behind me, and I watch his face drain of color, his eyes widening to the point that it looks painful.

Devon doesn’t move. He just slowly drags his staggered stare back to mine. “What did you do?” His voice is small and very much unlike him. I don’t understand it.