Page 61 of The Silversmith

Chapter sixteen

There were four of them—three male, one female. Likely bandits or thieves. I didn’t know, but they weren’t good.

I focused on my breathing to keep from panicking, like this was only a nightmare and I was bound to wake up. One, two, breathe… and I could get my bearings.

“What do you want?” I asked, forcibly leveling my voice.

Two men stood with blades pointed at Ezra, his glare a silent warning to bide my time, to not do anything more compulsive than we already had in coming here alone, against orders.

A third man sidled up to where the female held me at knifepoint. Tall, thin, and balding, he loomed over me the way most men did. But I looked up defiantly as I’d learned to do when examined by a man of my own.

“That man you were with? He has money. And he looked at you,” the man grinned at me to reveal a set of yellow-stained teeth, “like you were his little pet. I’m sure he’d pay a pretty sum to get you back.”

“Let her go.” Ezra remained calm, as he’d been trained to be in Elias’s army. This wasn’t his first brush with danger. I remembered him saying they’d been attacked by thieves on their way to Warrich.

How Gavin had eliminated them single-handedly.

“I’ll get you your money,” my cousin promised.

The men behind him chuckled darkly, and the balding man, who I assumed was their leader, cocked his head at me. “I might want something more than money, now that I see what’s on the table.”

My churning stomach brought sweat to my brow and turned my blood to ice.

“Don’t you touch her!” Ezra moved to step forward but was held back by the two men, their faces contorted by sneers. They each grabbed an arm and pressed the tips of their blades into his sides.

I was just about to throw my elbow into the woman’s gut when I heard a wet squelch in my left ear, followed by one low, guttural gasp. A clang echoed, the knife at my throat disappeared, and a body collapsed beside me.

I looked down to see the female who’d held me at knifepoint now crumpled on the ground in a heap of limbs and black hair, eyes frozen open in terrible shock. Blood pooled beneath her head…

She was dead with a knife in her skull, buried to the hilt—a knife that had been thrown from the doorway of the temple, where, no less than thirty steps away, Gavin stood, drowning the vast, colorful space of worship in dark, uncompromising rage.

I let out a sigh of relief in spite of his rage, stumbling away from the dead woman as Gavin strode swiftly toward the center of the temple.

He didn’t look at me when he passed.

“Get her out of here—to the tavern,” he snarled in Ezra’s direction. The others had released him and began to retreat in fear. “Now.”

The three remaining thieves cowered, looking between their dead female friend and the mass of muscled fury barreling toward them, horror etched on their ugly faces, realizing just exactly what they’d gotten themselves into.

My cousin lunged for my arm. I tried to look back, but—

“Don’t watch.” Ezra forced my shoulders forward. “Trust me.” He quickly led me out of the temple. The heavy door closed behind us, muffling the pleading cries of three grown men fated to a hell of their own making.

The warm sunlight and crisp air swirled around us, but a heavy weight descended, ripping away any enjoyment they could bring. “Will he kill them?” I asked.

“Yes.” Ezra didn’t hesitate as he dragged me down the cobblestone street. I took two rushed steps for every one of his long, lanky strides. I could barely register the bright world as it blurrily passed by, my reality even graver than before.

We entered a tavern through a back door, where Finn, Caz, and Gemma were waiting, their worried looks immediately settling into relief upon seeing us.

Caz stepped forward, no sign of the usual relaxed merriment on his tanned face. He turned to my cousin. “That was stupid, Ez.”

I stepped forward in Ezra’s defense. “It was my idea, and we were gone for less than twenty minutes.”

“It doesn’t even take half that time,” Caz answered, shaking his head. He looked disappointed, not mad, which somehow felt worse. “You can’t run off.”

Gemma avoided my gaze, but I looked at her. Arms crossed, shoulders tensed, eyes glued to the ground. I could tell she wasn’t happy, either.

“Just because Simeon put wards on this city to protect it from Molochai doesn’t mean there aren’t other dangers,” Finn added, his voice calmer than Caz’s, but no less disappointed.