Page 2 of Storm of Ink and Blood

“Run,” Yasen said, and without further warning, they barreled towards the guards, catching them by surprise. Yasen swung his blade, slashing across one guard’s chest before he collapsed with a cry.

The other grabbed Zarya’s arm as she passed, causing her to lose her grip on the crate. She screamed as it tumbled from her hands, the bottles shattering with a crash. Black ink spread across the concrete, soaking into the hem of her cloak.

Yasen swung a fist, connecting it with the guard’s cheek and dropping him to the floor with a thud.

“No, no, no,” Zarya repeated as she fell to her knees, sifting through the remnants while trying to avoid shards of broken glass.

“Zee! We have to go!” Yasen snapped as he grabbed her elbow.

Another shrill cry pierced the air, and a moment later, dozens of fireballs arced through the windows, catching the wicks. Yasen yanked on her arm again, hauling her to her feet.

“The ink!” she screamed.

“Leave it!” He tugged her towards the entrance. As they passed a worktable, she reached out to swipe two bottles with a soft clink, clutching them in her sweating palm.

They burst into the street, where flames were already licking at the windows. They’d designed the bombs to burn at a steady rate, giving everyone time to clear the area. They now had less than three minutes to find safety.

Spinning around to face the building, Zarya pulled on her fire anchor before a flame appeared hovering above her palm. She still had to finish her part. She blew on the flame as it soared through a third-floor window, catching on a wick.

Each tiny explosive had enough power to level a small house. Dozens of them working together would easily flatten this building.

Hopefully.

“It’s done,” she said.

“Then let’s move,” Yasen replied, scanning the street for any signs of the watch. “We’re clear. Let’s go.”

They clasped hands and raced through the shadows, making their way towards the neighboring Rasoi District.

They’d been careful to contain the strength of the blast within the currently deserted Siahi District that emptied of life once the vanshaj finished their shifts for the day, minus the watch. She would feel no remorse for taking those lives. These men willingly chose their profession. In fact, most reveled in the power and prestige of the position, and now they would feel the consequences of their callous choices.

But their efforts would be tainted if they killed innocent bystanders in the process. Zarya hoped their calculations had been accurate. However, she couldn’t help thinking that, truly, no one in this queendom was innocent—not as long as they continued to turn a blind eye to the vanshaj.

She will be the one to free them all.

The prophecy Zarya had heard in her mother’s necklace all those months ago was a constant whisper filtering through her thoughts. Those words literally meant life or death. She’d made them a part of her, as though they’d also been inked into her skin with powerful, ancient magic.

Before abandoning the safety of the shadows, Zarya and Yasen removed their cloaks and tossed them into a large rubbish bin against the wall of a nearby building.

Underneath, Zarya wore an emerald-green salwar kameez embellished with silver beading, while Yasen wore a bright blue kurta and mustard-yellow pants. She hoped no one would notice the ink that had soaked through her cloak to stain her knees. Being careful to wipe their shoes dry of evidence, they linked their arms and rounded the corner, emerging into the light.

A bustling street stretched ahead of them, lined with three- and four-story buildings made of white stone and marble, gilded with ornate silver and gold window frames. They passed tall iron streetlamps molded with curling vines and flowers, all flickering with orange flames now that the sun had set.

Hopefully, they resembled an ordinary couple heading out to dine on one of the various patios that lined the street. They passed a busy establishment with tables covered in crisp white linen and topped with tall golden vases sprouting with delicate white feathers. Strings of lights gave everything a soft, merry glow.

Zarya and Yasen picked up their pace, attempting to put as much distance between them and the warehouse as possible. She cast one last look back before they lost themselves in a sea of a thousand faces.

A few seconds later, the explosion ripped through the night.

TWO

Zarya and Yasen stopped and turned around—partly because it would have been suspicious otherwise and partly to take in the aftermath. A cloud of dust and fire billowed across the sky, backdropped by Ishaan’s screams of panic and surprise.

Their gazes met, and they allowed themselves a small, triumphant smile before they turned and continued walking, heads down and hands linked as if they were simply attempting to flee the chaos.

It wouldn’t do to linger here for long. The royal soldiers would soon arrive and start asking questions. Zarya and Yasen hoped they’d blended in well enough for no one to remember they’d been anywhere nearby.

Zarya’s heart pounded with adrenaline as they wound through progressively less crowded streets. After months of careful planning and plotting, they’d delivered a crushing blow to the queendom of Gi’ana and scored a much-needed victory for the rebellion.