Page 16 of Hellbound

Ksenia pushed past the guard without another look.

Massive iron gates yawned open, connected to a two-storied curtain wall with a peaked wooden roof.

At the entrance, a notice board was thick with postings. Trade permits, tax announcements, advertisements. Amongst them was a freshly inked bounty sheet.

Ten gold pieces for a confirmed bondsmith. Fifteen for a child. One for information leading to capture.

The child bounty had doubled since she last saw this.

They’ll grow up knowing no other king but me. Ksenia shuddered.

And beyond, the streets thrummed with a restless, tightly woven crowd in an expansive courtyard. Merchants hawking spices, fabrics, and trinkets from different townships shouted over the clatter of hooves and carts. Diplomats and nobles were cloaked in rich fabrics and jewels, ushering each other into business dealings.

She spied royal guards sprinkled amongst the crowd, dressed in their steel-plated armor, their hands never straying far from the hilts of their broadswords.

Two little girls sat cross-legged on the steps of a black marbled fountain, their palms slapping in rhythm.

‘Bound blade, bound blade, where’d your master go? Down below, down below, where the dead things grow!’ They dissolved into giggles and started again from the top.

She tightened her cloak and moved on.

Hearth rose from the ground like a dark crown, with lancet quatrefoiled stained-glass windows that winked in the light.

She pressed her back into a stone-and-brick building as she craned her neck upward. The spire tips were lost in the clouds, crowned with twisted, watchful gargoyles, and blackened stone that seemed to drink in what little daylight remained.

When she walked to the side, she spotted ribbed buttresses and arches that protected the back half of the enormous building, welling with darkness.

Ah, there it is. The beating heart of a broken body. Ugly, isn’t it? whispered a soft, lilting voice in her ear.

Ksenia cringed from the voice, only for it to whisper on her other side.

Beautiful too. That’s the trick with power—gilded on the outside, hollow inside. Are you sure you’re ready to face its depths?

“Stop!” said Ksenia harshly, clutching her head as a few bystanders gave her a wider berth.

Vornaya chuckled, amused.

Careful, you don’t want to draw attention to yourself, not with so many—

Envorsen.

Ksenia paled as she spotted crimson cloaks slipping through the crowd like blades through silk.

She hesitated when a light flashed in her vision. Squinting, she saw a figure walking alone atop the stone pathway of the curtain wall, a gleaming gold brooch on his chest.

She blinked, then stared again: there he was.

Captain of the Envorsen.

The Bastard Prince.

The man who had dragged her to death’s doorstep.

He leaned over the balustrade, cloaked in black, his dark, curled hair ruffling in the wind. He watched the crowd like a vulture over a fawn.

Anger seethed through Ksenia’s veins. This was her chance.

She crossed the market square, ducking behind wooden stalls as she plotted.