Page 10 of Revealing Fate

Felíne fought. Her arms swung wildly, legs kicking with all her remaining strength, and still the lightning coiled tighter. It was crushing her, sapping what little energy remained.

“No,” she sobbed. “Please let me go. No, no, nononono.”

The gold lightning did not listen. It only buzzed menacingly and wound itself tighter still. Her whole body was on fire. Felíne swallowed a lungful of air and opened her mouth to scream for Kal, for anyone, once more, when the lightning dove into her throat, choking her.

Her scream never made it out.

The night went still, and overhead, the stars ceased their spinning.

Chapter 3

LEAVE

SANTHE SCRUBBED THE BAR TOP until her hands were numb. She’d been working double shifts, picking up extra whenever she could, but not because she needed the money. She needed the distraction.

It had been a week since Kal’s reckless plan to steal Railah out of Asteros had gone terribly awry. Seven days. The city was locked down. Soldiers prowled the streets at all hours like hungry wolves, liable to snap at the slightest infraction.

Staying home, waiting for the king himself to burst through her flimsy front door and accuse her of conspiring against the crown was out of the question. She couldn’t just sit around, restless and frightened. Working the pubs and taverns gave her some manner of focusing her harried mind. It didn’t remove the worry, but it kept it from consuming her.

“I think the bar’s clean, hon.”

Santhe dropped her rag into the wash bucket under the counter and wiped her hands on her apron. Her palms burned an angry shade of red.

Melinda came around the bartop and touched her shoulder with motherly concern. Her soft brown eyes saw more than they should have. Santhe couldn’t meet them.

“Is everything alright, San?”

Santhe straightened the sag in her shoulders and forced a wan smile. “I’m fine, Mel. Just going through some personal things.”

Melinda nodded in understanding, the weary skin around her eyes crinkling. The sincerity of her expression touched Santhe even though the woman understood exactly nothing.

“Man troubles?”

Santhe might have laughed if that was something she did anymore. Maybe the older woman did understand. “You could say that.”

Melinda patted her hand gently. “Well, don’t you worry, San. Things will smooth out. You can’t fix it by working yourself to death. Have you tried talking to him? About whatever’s bothering you?”

Which him? She couldn’t talk to Kal. Only the gods could say where he was. For all she knew, his body could be rotting somewhere in the Saraat. Or worse, chained in King Domitan’s dungeons.

And Cinah…

Santhe hid her wince. She hadn’t heard from Cinah since that first night when everything had gone so wrong. When he came to warn her that he hadn’t been able to get their message to Railah. That they’d been too late. She worried more for Cinah than she did for Kal. Kal—if any luck remained on their side—still had the freedom to figure his way out of whatever calamity he encountered. Cinah, on the other hand, remained fully entangled in the spider’s web, a willing captive.

“No,” Santhe sighed. “I haven’t talked to him. Maybe I’ll try that. Thanks, Mel.”

Melinda gave her another pat. “Go on home, hon. It’s late. I’ll finish up here.”

The old barmaid didn’t give her the option to refuse. Santhe collected her share of tips for the evening, thanked Melinda again, and made for the rear exit.

“Be careful, San,” Melinda called. “Stick to the main streets. Whoever those soldiers are hunting is still out there.”

Santhe certainly hoped so.

Santhe returned home having managed to avoid being stopped and interrogated by any patrolling guards. She fitted her key into the worn lock and hefted the handle. A quick bang of her shoulder against the petrified slab of wood that served as her front door, and it was open. The interior was dark and quiet.

Santhe dropped her purse of coins on the table, kicked her shoes into a corner, and retrieved a mug from the cupboard. She rolled her neck as she poured herself a glass of mezahl.

She wrinkled her nose at the sting of liquor. She hated this stuff. But she needed something to dull her head. Whiskey reminded her of Kal. Wine made her think of Cinah. So, mezahl it was. She toasted an imaginary drinking companion and downed the spirit before pouring another.