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Azmar breaks away, and we both gasp for breath. Slowly, finger by finger, he releases my leg. Finger by finger, I ease my grip on his bloodstone. I will cherish it like I’ve never cherished anything else.
“I’m late,” he growls, but his frustration isn’t with me. Standing, he jerks on the ropes of his hair. Walks halfway across the room, pauses, and turns back to me. He looks angry and sad at the same time, and it’s like a needle piercing my heart. “Be careful, Lark.”
We watch each other for a moment more, reading and studying and questioning, before he grabs the sheaf of papers off the counter and leaves, shutting the door behind him with a force that reminds me of his sister.
Opening my hand, now covered in red marks, I cradle the bloodstone, memorizing its every facet. It’s beautiful, and I wonder if Azmar crafted the setting himself. But I cannot wear it. How would I explain, ifanyone, even Ritha or Perg, were to find this on me? What believable story could I offer?
Because Icanhurt Azmar. He’s essentially handed me the weapon with which to do it. And so while I wish I could pin this emblem to my breast and wear it with pride, I slip it inside my shirt, under my breast bindings and over my heart, and quickly ready myself for the day. I cannot let these adventures, wonderful as they are, disrupt my normal schedule. I need to be at Unach’s apartment and then the south docks, fulfilling my responsibilities. But first, I will hide this, somewhere safe,where no one else can find it. It will be difficult—I have so little space to claim as my own. But I will protect it with all I have.
More difficult will be hiding the elation that I’m sure radiates from every inch of my skin, because despite all the fear tied to this promise, I have never been happier.
“They won’t mobilize all of you?” I ask Unach as we take the sloping road down between military storage and food storage. It’s the third hour, time for the shift change, and bodies crowd the way.
“Not until further threat.” She shifts her jaw to one side and pops it. She has a gruff edge to her voice, like she’s still angry, but getting tired of being angry. At this rate, she’ll be on speaking terms with Azmar again by next week. “Until then, we go by ticket, and mine’s up soon. I’m looking forward to fighting something on level ground for once.”
“But you haven’tfoundthe attackers.” I think of Tayler. If he comes scouting again, his band might be put to blame. I fear for him. Our meeting time nears, and I have no way to warn him of the extra trollis scouts. If it’s only him, hopefully he can pass under their watch, just as I’ll have to. I promised him I would come alone, without even Azmar, and I am still working out how to accomplish that.
Unach sticks out her broad chest. “And what if I do?”
I shrug. “Of course I don’t want war, Unach. But if you have to defend yourself, it doesn’t matter if they’re humans, aerolass, or merdans, in the end.”
My answer pleases her.
A passing trollis shoves into my side, sending me sprawling into Unach. She rights me with one strong arm. Then swings around so quickly I question if I ever fell.
She grabs the trollis by the collar and shoves him against the stone wall. “You’d better watch where you’re going, Intra.”
The Intra gapes, confused, his charcoal eyes flicking between Unach and myself. “She’s human!”
“She’smyhuman.” Unach jerks the trollis forward and releases his collar. Frowning, he adjusts his clothes and merges back into the crowd.
I can’t help but smile as Unach continues down to the dock as though she didn’t just blatantly defend my honor. I don’t say anything, of course. If Unach hates anything, it’s feelings.
We’re coming upon the tribunal when the horn sounds, loud and sharp, two times over. All the trollis slow at its call.
Two times over. Monster attack.
Unach and I bolt down the lane, hurrying to the dock. Others quicken their steps, rushing to their designated stations to wait out the attack. I think of the leckers’ prior breach and push my legs faster.
Two slayers, Kub and Troff, have already set up at the dock when we arrive, Troff holding a rope that must lead to Kesta, already on the city’s exterior.
“Hurry!” Kub says.
Troff blurts at me, “I can hold two!”
We rush for the trunk of harnesses. Unach grabs one and shoves her legs into it. I help her buckle and adjust.
Troff says, “It’s a spreener. Abigone. Came up to check out the waterworks—” He grunts and pulls back on the rope as it changes directions.
Unach fastens a rope to her harness before throwing the other end to Kub. I untangle my own small harness, which I usually shove in the bottom right corner of the trunk for easy finding. Once Unach’s rope coils up through the pulleys, she climbs out.
I hear her curse at the same time the horn blows again, loud and teeth shaking.
Seconds later I understand why, after astip! stip! stip!of sharp legs shakes the rock and an immense shadow falls over the dock, punctuated by half a dozen acidic eyes.
My breath dissolves. The spreener spider is massive, its exoskeleton hard and faceted as a carved gem, its beak gleaming, sufficiently large to take a trollis—or a human—in a single bite. Kub and Troff both jerk back, retreating, ropes under their arms. In unison they reach for the heavy swords on their belts. My heart pulses hard and heavy. Chills spiral down my arm.
I’ve never been this close to a monster, even the leckers.
