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It was still dark, but Rune rose anyway, afraid to shut her eyes again. Dressing warmly, she saddled Lady and rode down to the shore, trying to clear her head while the sun rose, scattering the mist off the sea.
When she returned to Wintersea House, Lizbeth was walking toward her through the gardens, her hands coiled around a rolled-up newspaper.
Rune dismounted Lady. “What is it?”
Lizbeth handed the paper to her. “You should read it yourself.”
Rune unrolled theNew Herald, the regime’s official newspaper, and glanced down at the front page. In bold black letters, the first headline read:WITCH ATTACK. DOZENS DEAD.
Her heart stumbled.
A witch attack?
With one hand squeezing the leather strips of Lady’s lead, Rune quickly scanned the report.
Late last night, Blood Guard soldiers led by Captain Gideon Sharpe raided a print shop believed to be harboring witches. The soldiers were lured into a trap set by the witches they’d come to arrest. A dozen men and women were inside the building when it exploded. As help rushed to the scene, a second explosion tore through Blood Guard headquarters. As of this morning, the fires are still raging. Twenty-seven are confirmed dead and many more are injured.
Rune’s ears rang as she stared at Gideon’s name. Two explosions. Twenty-seven dead. She scanned down to the bottom of the page, but there was no other information.
TheNew Heraldhadn’t printed the names of the deceased.
Is he one of them?
Choking down her fear, Rune tossed the newspaper on the ground and swiftly remounted. Grabbing Lady’s reins, she sent them sailing toward town.
Rune could see two pillars of billowing smoke long before she reached the capital. She headed straight for the print shop, where Gideon’s raid had taken place. It was past noon when she neared the smoking ruin. Ash filled the air, stinging her lungs.
As she arrived at the building’s scorched shell, the horrible thoughts Rune had tried to suppress broke through and an image of Gideon’s charred body appeared in her mind, unmooring her.
It felt like the air had been sucked from the world.
She couldn’t breathe.
Rune reached for her old hatred of the Blood Guard captain like she would for a weapon, to defend herself against the surge of overwhelming feelings. But her hatred was nowhere to be found.
She swung herself down from the saddle and pushed her way into the crowd of gawking bystanders.
“Is there anyone still in there?” she asked, feeling dizzy. “Does anyone know the names of the dead?”
But the bystanders were all asking the same questions. As she shoved her way to the front, people with buckets of water rushed inside or emerged with empty ones, telling the crowd to get back.
“You can’t come in here, miss,” said one of them. “It’s still smoldering.”
“Have you seen Gideon Sharpe?”
No one had.
Rune raced Lady to Blood Guard headquarters, the site of the second attack. The former Royal Library looked like a giant skull, blackened and burnt, with fires still raging in its hollow eyes. The explosion had shattered the glass walls, and the shards lay scattered in the street, shining like the sea.
TWENTY-SEVEN DEADblared in her mind.
Rune’s stomach clenched.
Did Cressida do this?
Instead of going home to Wintersea to wait for news, or riding to Thornwood Hall in case Alex had more information, she turned Lady and rode for Old Town. She tied the horse to a nearby hitching post and approached Gideon’s tenement.
Rune knocked on his door, listening for footsteps within.
