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I opened my mouth to fight but Nell’s voice caught my attention. “Let’sgo,” she called back to us. “Teach and walk! Teach and walk!”
Branch in hand, I trudged forward, keenly aware of Miles’ looming presence beside me. “First lesson,” he started, unsheathing his own sword, the noise garnering a glance from Whit and Nell as we caught up with them. “Balance.”
I all but rolled my eyes. “Really? Can’t you just teach me to swing a damned sword?”
“No. Every soldier learns balance first. It’s non-negotiable. It’ll be a little more difficult since we’re walking, but get the hang of it now and by the time we get some real steel in your hands you’ll be better for it.” He held his hand in front of him and rested the end of the hilt on his flattened palm. Even as he walked through the blanket of dead leaves and twigs, the sword didn’t waver in the slightest. “Your turn.”
I huffed against his command but obliged. Ishouldlearn to defend myself with something less…chaotic than the fury that burned within me. Palm out, I rested the splintered edge of the branch in my hand.
Thud.
“Again,” Miles commanded evenly.
I reset. Over and over and over, I propped the branch up only for it to tip within seconds. Each time it landed on the ground, I felt my rage burn hotter. The hours passed, the branch never stilling for more than a few seconds, all the while Miles watched silently, patiently, expectantly.
? ? ?
Two days of hiking. Two days of balancing a damned branch on my palm. Two days, and all I managed to do was hit the five-second mark…once.
It was late afternoon when we heard the braying of horses — the first sign we were nearing civilization. “We’re close,” Miles said, his voice rough with agitation.
“Kauvras didn’t raid Aera?” I asked, wondering if I’d find only the remnants of a city when we arrived.
“Not yet. If he attacks Aera, it compromises Taitha’s trade route on the Hudna River. It’s on his list, though,” Miles explained flatly. “Remember the plan?”
Indistinct voices began to sound as we crested a hill to find a small city laying in the crook of a rushing river. Aera. I looked nervously out over the collection of buildings. There was no castle like in Taitha or Eserene, just rows of structures on narrow streets. “I’m going to buy cloaks,” I answered.
Miles dug a few coins from a pocket on his side and placed them in my hand. “And then you come right back. Got it?”
I raised a brow at the tone of his voice but decided it wasn’t worth fighting over. The prospect of spending a few minutes by myself was actually quite enticing. “Yep.”
“We’ll be right here,” Nell added.
I gave a short wave over my shoulder and trekked down the hill toward the city. I wondered if the people of Aera knew about the Daughter of Katia, if they’d heard what happened in Taitha.
As I neared the city, the familiar smell of filth assaulted my nose, and I let a smile quirk my lips as Inkwell rushed into my memory. Aera was markedly nicer than Inkwell had been, but I recognized the same stalwart, hard working people, the same rundown cottages, the same sounds of carts and horses and haggling.
For a moment, I let myself pretend I was walking to see Caroline, the only seamstress in Inkwell. I let the shadows of the cottages feel like the shadows of Eserene’s city walls lumbering above me. I was going to see Caroline and then go to the market to buy half-rotted potatoes for my family, not cloaks for three strangers.
For a moment I washome.
But the accent that began to filter into my ears was not Inkwellian, and the color of the dirt in the street was too red. The boots people wore were sewn in a different style with different stitching. The people seemed too friendly. The sunlight was different.
Iwas different. I wasn’t the same person I’d been in Inkwell. I’d been penniless and hungry. I’d been a thief. And now I was… Now I was expected to be a queen. Of what, exactly, I didn’t know. But I was going to be a queen.
Focus, Petra,I told myself. Cloaks. I needed cloaks. My eyes scanned the signs on the shops that lined the streets as I neared what seemed to be the middle of town until I found one that seemed suitable,Rosalinde’s Clothing and Textiles.The sweet feel of solitude crept into my bones as I pushed the rickety door open. A small woman greeted me from behind a dusty counter, the lines in her face deep set, her eyes sunken in.
This simple, mundane task of buying a cloak… I let myself enjoy it, cherish the solace of doing something so ordinary. Hangers ground against wooden racks as I let my hands run across the fabric, as if these very hands weren’t responsible for taking the lives of so many men and women already. As if they wouldn’t soon be responsible for eliminating ten thousand Vacants, possibly more.
I was mad at Miles for even suggesting it, even if it was the right thing to do.Saints, he pissed me off. But it was the discomfort that his touch brought me that was front and center in my mind. It truly did feel almost familiar, like something I’d felt from someone before, just…different. It was wrong, unsettling. I tried to swallow back the uneasiness, but still it sat like a lump in my throat.
Anxious thoughts brewed in my head as I piled my cloaks on the counter, thoughts about Miles and the Vacants and the prophecy I’d found myself a part of. Before long, everyone would know who I was. Everyone would know I was the Daughter of Katia. I took a deep breath, one of my last asjust Petra. But out of the grimy shop window, something caught my eye — the sign on the shop just across the street.
The Empty Mirror: Purveyors of Blood Magic and Dark Thaumaturgy.
“Excuse me,” I asked the shop worker as I handed her a few coins. I felt silly even asking her, but I couldn’t ignore the draw of The Empty Mirror. “What exactly is that shop there?”
She squinted her eyes through the window and her lips contorted in a twisted frown. “Unholy, that’s what it is,” she croaked, a few gnarled yellow teeth poking through her gums. “An affront to this city and an affront to the Saints.”
