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“Seen ’em toss ’em over there.” Swordeater weakly tilted his head to the opposite corner.

My heart jumped. Fallen behind a small barrel of torn dry bread was a ring of three keys.

I made quick work of unlocking the chains, then unthreading the chains from the rod.

Seableeder fell forward, face down, when his legs gave out entirely. He trembled and gasped. Doubtless, by the pallid tone of his flesh, the man was raging in fever. Swordeater, weak as he was, helped me drape Seableeder’s arm across my shoulders.

“We need to get out of this damn house.”

“Aye,” Swordeater said. “There be skiffs and such at the back docks. Saw ’em when they still be treatin’ us well. Back before they took the others.”

“The others?” Mira asked, staggering with Nightseer’s bulky form.

“Aye, lovey.” Swordeater hacked a cough. “Legbinder and Steelcarver, they got rammed through from a post when the ship went down. Didn’t make it off. But Fireweaver, Windswayer, and Boneseer, they was here. These folk took ’em.”

“What?” My pulse quickened. Erik sent me with eight men to sail the smaller ship. There were only three left. “How did you get here?”

Swordeater leaned one shoulder against the wall. “Strangest thing, Heartwalker, I don’t quite know. I can’t…can’t recall.”

Shit. “Does it feel like your memories might be warded? Like a spell?”

Swordeater’s eyes flashed. “Possibly. They be there, the knowing, but it’s…it’s damn hazy, boy.”

Nightseer grimaced when he put weight on one foot. “How’d the two o’ you escape?”

Mira glanced my way.

“The Norns took us a different route” was all I said. “You said Boneseer was here?”

“Aye.” Swordeater nodded. “Don’t know what they gone and done with him, Fireweaver, and Windswayer.”

Mira’s breath shuddered over her lips. No mistake, like me, she recalled Boneseer on the shore of the isle, his battered body, or what was left of him. He hadn’t died in the shipwreck. He’d been here, then been slaughtered.

“We must go.” I urged the men out into the corridor.

Injured and weak as they were, the lot of them kept their moans and shuffling feet quiet. Mira was two heads shorter than most of the men and could do little by way of helping them walk. She hurried ahead and focused on bolstering her illusions to more than a shadow in the hallway.

A staircase leading down to the garden was near the window. Blind and uncertain what steps to make, the staircase was our lone option.

“Anyone find it strange there are so few guards?” Mira’s voice trembled.

“Aye, lass,” Nightseer said. “Thought so, but I fear I’ll be tellin’ you we can expect ’em outside. They guard those bleeding trees.”

Shit. The sod finished his words the moment I opened a door that showed a gate leading to the golden courtyard.

Five men armed with broadswords and battle-axes stood in a line, blocking access to the strange garden. They eyed the doorway strangely, no doubt seeing nothing but darkness. But Mira’s breathing grew heavy, labored.

Then, for a moment, some of the illusion flickered.

I saw the instant one of the guards knew it was us. Before we could shout the order to run, the mortal guards tore blades from sheaths and lunged.

34

The Illusionist

The guards aimed blades at the broken men. My damn men. Tait had earned my heart, but the Ever Crew protected me, shielded me, danced with me. They’d suffered all this time and could hardly stand well enough to fight.

Tait would fight; he’d slaughter. Already, my Hearttalker proved how villainously he destroyed threats, but on this one, I was at the head.