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“To come back.”
Thank fuck he thought we would return.
The fisherman trotted down the Galata Bridge to the bank. A sleek little skiff bobbed in the water. I climbed in and clung to the sides of the boat. Wendel sat in the back, shoved off from the bank, and started rowing.
Waves slapped against the sides of the boat as we advanced on the Serpent’s Tower. Lights glinted through the narrow windows of the fortress. Scrubby pine trees clung to the rocky island, the only cover besides boulders.
Almost there.
The bottom of the boat scraped along the gravel beach. Wendel jumped out and steadied the boat for me to disembark. I helped him drag the skiff onto the beach, and we hid it under the branches of a pine tree.
Moonlight shone on his pale face and highlighted the hard set of his jaw. “At the very top of the Serpent’s Tower, we should find the Grandmaster.”
“What’s our strategy?”
The muscles in his neck tightened. “You want to talk with the Grandmaster?”
“Let me try.”
“If he touches you, I will kill him.”
His cold confidence shook me. “What about the assassins?”
He held out his hands as if weighing our options. “We kill anyone who tries to stop us. We have no other choice.”
“I hate it when you’re right.”
He slipped his hand behind my neck, glanced into my eyes, and dragged me into a kiss. His necromancy knocked the breathout of me. Icy fire swirled over my skin and curled deep into the marrow of my bones.
I gasped. “What?—?”
“Stay with me. No matter what happens.”
“I will.”
“Take my hand.”
I twisted my fingers with his, feeling the strange sensation of his magic still tingling in my ribcage. When he drew his black dagger, Amarant’s shadows cloaked us both. Silently, we strode toward the Serpent’s Tower.
“All the doors will be locked,” he muttered.
“What do we do?”
“He’s our key.” He pointed to a guard patrolling the fortress perimeter. “Stay here.”
I dropped behind a boulder as the shadows faded from my skin. Wendel ran ahead, all but invisible, and disappeared into the darkness. The guard staggered, then straightened and continued his circuit around the tower. Moonlight caught him as he walked. Blood darkened the back of his cloak.
Damn, that was grimly efficient.
The dead man lingered at the foot of the fortress. He stopped by an arched door and rapped against the wood. Straining to hear, I caught some muttered Turkish on the wind. It might have been the dead man.
Light sliced the darkness as the door opened.
The dead man sidestepped. A shadow whisked past him. A strangled gasp preceded silence. I froze behind the boulder, my heartbeat thundering, and gripped the hilt of Chun Yi. Footsteps crunched the gravel.
“Ardis.” It was Wendel.
His hand locked with mine. His fingers were smeared with the slick heat of blood. The shadows of his dagger clouded my vision, nearly suffocating.
