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KERIS
Keris gaped in astonishment as the woman jumped out of the tower window and over the flames, Otis’s letters still clutched in her hand.
“Shit!” Racing to the window, he looked through the smoke to see her land hard on the dome of the neighboring tower, where she slid, hands and feet scrabbling for purchase.
She was going to fall.
Keris gripped the sill, heedless of the flames and helpless to do anything as she slid faster and faster, the letters now between her teeth, her hands fumbling with the harness around her chest. Just as she reached the lip, the straps came loose and she flung a loop out, the leather catching on a cornice.
Keris’s breath came out in a loud whoosh, his heart pounding as she dangled midair. Then she swung her legs back and forth before sailing onto the balcony. She quickly disappeared into the room beyond, emerging moments later with a sheet, which she tore into lengths and then knotted together.
Call the alarm,logic screamed inside his head.You need to get those letters back!
But if his soldiers caught her inside the palace, they’d tear her apart and spike her head on the gate. There wouldn’t be a damned thing he could do about it. And he hadn’t spent his life refusing to kill to achieve his ends, only to cave when faced with a moment of adversity.
You let her get this far,he thought to himself.Which means you need to get them back.And he needed to do it himself.
Cursing under his breath, Keris backed up across the room and then sprinted toward the open window.
10
ZARRAH
Zarrah was halfway down her makeshift rope when she heard a loudthumpand the sound of something heavy sliding down the metal dome. She looked up in time to see the Maridrinian slip over the edge, deftly catching hold of her harness and swinging onto the balcony.
What the hell was in these letters?
Ignoring the burn in her palms, Zarrah slid down the sheet-rope. Her bare foot screamed in pain as she landed on the roof of the palace, bits of shattered rock cutting into her flesh as she raced to where she’d climbed up. Shouts of alarm rose from the soldiers below, the fire having been spotted. A quick upward glance revealed the scaffolding was nearly engulfed, which would provide an ideal distraction.
Although not from everyone.
Crouching low, Zarrah wedged herself between the two decorative walls. But before she dropped below the roofline, she looked back. The Maridrinian was already down the sheet-rope and was sprinting toward her. Shit. She needed to get out into the city, into that mess of broken buildings and its million places to hide.
When she reached the ground, Zarrah paused to watch the soldiers drawing buckets of water from the well, everything chaos and confusion.
Horses and wagons rushed out the gates to avoid the falling pieces of burning wood. She rolled under a passing wagon, clinging to the underside and cringing as bits of manure fell through the slats.
The wagon passed through the gates and into the maze of city streets, but Zarrah held on, wanting to get as far away as she could before she risked revealing herself. Then the wagon hit a large hole in the cobbles, jouncing her loose. She landed hard on her back, the skin on her elbows shredding as she skidded to a stop. Zarrah ignored the pain and rolled sideways into the shadows of an opium den, shrieks of laughter, both male and female, filtering from the rooms above even as shouts of, “Fire! Fire!” spread through the city.
Keep going. He’s not going to give up that easily. You need to get across the river.
Zarrah limped down an alley until she found an easy place to climb. On the roof, she had a clear view of the palace, the scaffolding an inferno. An impressive sight, but she knew it had done nothing more than inconvenience their efforts to repair the palace. She could only pray that the letters yielded something worth the lost opportunity to spill Veliant blood.
She leaped onto a neighboring rooftop, retreating by the same route she’d taken on her way to the palace, hoping that the alligators had dispersed or found easier quarry. Because she needed to get back across that river. As soon as dawn lit the sky in the east, the unspoken peace between Maridrina and Valcotta would shatter, and being caught on the north side of the river would not go well for her.
Soldiers and civilians alike had given up their carousing to watch the fire, droves of them heading in the direction of the palace to gawk. As she leaped from the roof of a tavern onto yet another brothel, a loud roar filled her ears, and Zarrah glanced back in time to see the scaffolding collapse, a cloud of sparks and smoke filling the air.
Then the skin on her neck prickled and she whirled, finding herself face-to-face with the Maridrinian.
11
KERIS
The glow of the fire illuminated the Valcottan woman’s face, which, if he was being honest, was far more beautiful than he’d first appreciated. Her brown skin was glossy from heat and exertion, and strands of her short, dark hair clung to her rounded cheekbones. If not for the knife that had appeared in her hand, he might have imagined the bow-shaped lips of hers engaged in a number of intriguing activities.
“That,” he gestured to the glow of flames, “is going to be a significant inconvenience for me.”
Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she said, “So sorry,” before stepping sideways, searching for a way around him. But Keris moved with her, growling, “Give me the damned letters, Valcotta. They’re no good to you.”
