Page 34 of Tears of Gold

Erritt’s not like the others in his family. Even without my father’s story of how the young prince once helped him, my observations from a distance warmed my heart toward the thoughtful and courageous young prince. I dedicated myself to becoming the best Elite elemental in the hopes that I could serve him, watching his progress with the same fascination the other Elites were applying to Prince Anik.

I swore to myself that if I ever had the chance to be by his side, I wouldn’t hesitate, and five weeks ago, the Qi Lords smiled at me and granted my wish. I’ve worked hard to ensure Prince Erritt won’t regret my appointment, but today, I both overstepped and failed him.

Arrowing towards the docks, I turn a corner and come across an elemental woman in a shop uniform fighting with a cluster of minor yokai, the latter shrieking as they try to snatch away a cash box. I hold out my hand and summon my sword from my room at the academy, striding forward as the blade materializes.

Throwing myself into the fray, I kick one raven-beaked, winged yokai into a wall, trap a second with a rope of purple qi, and reverse my sword hilt into the temple of a third. The Royal Guard can determine who’s innocent tomorrow when the chaos dies away.

The elemental woman spots the chains swinging from my armband and bows, puffing hard. “Thank you, my lord.” She sighs as she surveys her broken storefront door.

I nod and throw a stronger trap over the three prone bodies, which should hold for an hour. “Did you see a dark-haired woman in a pink and gold dress come this way?”

She wipes sweat from her forehead with the back of one soot-covered hand. “No, my lord. People were running in all directions, so I probably wouldn’t even have recognized my mother.”

“Call for the guards. I can’t stay.”

“Good luck,” she calls.

Bitter smoke stings my eyes as I run toward the freight warehouse district backing onto the riverside docks, ignoring the faint tremors of an earthquake aftershock. If Prince Erritt sensed Ava there, Harper is likely looking for somewhere quiet to lay low.

I watched the rogue closely during the rescue missions, concerned he posed a threat to my lord, and saw his gate-hacking skills and quick thinking up close. Despite his temper and lapses in respect, he’s managed to forge a deep connection with my lord, one that tells me the stories I’ve heard of their interactions are only half-truths.

But it’s not my place to pry; my kind-hearted prince has a lot of secrets to protect if my observations are correct, and I’ll do everything in my power to shield them from prying eyes.

Broken glass crunches under my boots, the shopfronts broken from the blast wave or looters. With every step, the urgency to find Miss Ava grows. I turn a corner and hesitate as a wrongness in the street burrows into my senses. I swing about, searching, letting years of experience in battle situations inform me of what’s wrong. Down the street, a beam creaks, the doorway it once supported caved in.

I approach the splintered doorposts and note drops of blood on the cracked pavement. Squatting, I summon my warrior’s kit, the leather slipping easily into my hand. Flipping open the folded flaps, I activate a qi-detection rune, dropping the waxed paper to the ground and watching as the ripples spread out.

A flash of familiar translucent pink qi lights up under the broken timber, but I’m not sure whether to be relieved Harper was here or worried because he had to use his qi. At least I know I’m on their trail.

The traces of all the qi drifting through the streets light up as my rune spreads before exhausting the written power within. I return the slip of paper to my wallet and blast the sagging timbers with power. The teetering struts collapse onto the ground with a grateful groan. Now they won’t fall on anyone, and no traces of the rogue’s ability remain for the royal guards, who will no doubt grid search every inch of this district.

Behind me, the road intersects where the commercial buildings give way to industrial, and a chain of miniature festival lanterns fallen from their fixtures sags from a shop roof, flickering half-heartedly. A delivery wagon rests against the crumbled wall of the factory opposite.

Footsteps pound down the road, and I swing about. Rita runs through the flickering shadows of the main street, her mint dress charred and covered in ash. My heart sinks seeing her alone.

“Rita?”

She screeches to a halt and spins about. “Vanrey?” There’s an edge of panic in her voice.

I stride to the intersection.

“I lost them in the stampede south of the plaza!” She points back the way I’ve come, pausing to gulp in a breath. “Fucking crazed crowd pulled me into the Street of Linens before I could get free, and I’ve swept the four streets working back this way.”

I hold up my hands to reassure her, nodding at her methodology. “I caught a trace of Harper here.” I jerk a thumb over my shoulder toward the broken house. The movement makes the chains on my bracelet of royal authority jangle. “They’ve worked their way to the warehouses by the docks.”

She spins about to face the river, pressing a hand to her heaving chest. “Bulging toads balls! I’m glad you’re here! Let’s go—”

Over her shoulder, the delivery wagon rocks ever so slightly to one side. I shove Rita against the wooden display stands of the closest shop and leap forward, instinct compelling me. No one in their right mind would leave a wagon in a busy street on New Year's, when the streets will be packed with festival-goers.

I glance up as I materialize. Damn it! I should have known they’d hit a qi-compression factory. A dark shadow bounds away from the wagon.

“Shields!” I shout, hoping Rita reacts in time. I throw myself onto the fleeing creature’s back as a spark ignites in the corner of my eye. My internal qi points open like floodgates as I dredge up every bit of my stored power to cover the exploding wagon. I pour qi into the side facing the building, sweat soaking my sleeves as I try to envelop the whole thing.

A green shield rises to meet mine as Rita reacts just as quickly with a thick coating of qi. The force of the blast ricocheting against my power makes my ears ring.

The terrorist writhes beneath me, stabbing upwards with a crystal spike. I split myself into two, leaving my mirage to take his blade and distract him while I position myself behind his back and wrap an arm around his throat.

“Elemental scum!” he cries, the sound choking off as I strangle his airway.