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He puts his hand in his pocket and pulls something metal out. At first I think it’s a weapon, but it’s too small to be anything I recognize as deadly. He tosses it over to us and Taraven catches it with a steady hand before I have a chance to stop him.
“It’s a holo,” Taraven says, frowning. He presses a key on it and a little projection flickers t life, Nixeris’ face coming into view.
“Warlord Nixeris?” Taraven murmurs. “Is that you…?”
Trust him; the plan has changed,the holo says.
I bark out a laugh. “Seriously?”
“Could be fake,” Malix mutters. “We need more proof to be certain; can you reach the warlord directly?”
“We couldn’t reach each other any way but recordings,” Jokahn shrugs. “And I have to admit…your lack of trust is starting to hurt my feelings. You should come with me before my good will runs out—especially since your friend is already headed toward my safehouse.”
“Wait—that’s it,” I say. “Taraven, contact Ravik on Ikaray.”
“Ah, perfect,” Taraven says. “Give me just a moment.”
He pulls up his comm and taps in a code, then a chime sounds. I keep my eye on Jokahn the whole time, ready to shoot him down at a moment’s notice. I guess if he meant us harm, he would have already done something, and he’s just standing patiently on the opposite side of the street.
Ravik answers a moment later. “Something already go wrong?”
“We were just approached by a stranger re-directing us to Jokahn’s safehouse,” Taraven says. “Do you know something about this?”
“Yes—they came to fetch me at the port, and Ikaray was boarded shortly thereafter,” Ravik says. He sounds more than mildly annoyed at that, his eyes narrowed. “Coordinates are leading to a villa up the coast though, and they’ve let me go my own way—just as they said.”
“And you’re not going to leave us behind,” Taraven asks.
Ravik sneers, then his expression softens.
“I wouldn’t leave you behind, brother,” he says. “See you at Jokahn’s.”
The connection terminates, leaving the three of us standing there awkwardly.
“You couldn’t have contacted usbeforewe left?” I ask. “This is…suspicious, to say the least.”
Jokahn snorts. “I like this human,” he says. “She’s feisty.”
“Not feisty,” I say. “Professional. Malix and I are career military, Taraven here is…well, Taraven—and you haven’t shown us the courtesy we deserve.”
He ignores me.
“If you’ve decided to come with me,” he says, “shall we?”
I exchange a look with both Taraven and Malix, and finally nod my head.
“Lead the way,” I say.
Jokahn tilts his head over his shoulder and then disappears between two clay buildings, the large pillars in front casting a shadow over his face. We follow, Malix bringing up the rear while I Taraven takes the lead. I keep my hand on my crossbow the whole time, the narrow alley boxing us in, firefern glowing on the walls on either side.
For a second, I think he’s bringing us to our deaths in the most roundabout way possible.
Then the alley opens up and curves down and around, the sound of rushing water coming from below. There must be channels here—canals running like subway tunnels beneath the city. Jokahn descends some stairs ahead of us, then the tips of his horns vanish beneath the street level.
“Are we really doing this?” Malix asks, so close that his breath curls around my neck.
“I don’t see any other choice,” I say through gritted teeth.
Taraven glances backward. “We’ll be fine.”
