Page 188

Story: A Forbidden Alchemy

And he heard it. He found me in that mess of bodies, fallen and battered. His eyes welled. His jaw pulsed.

And he shifted his eyes away again. “Leave now,” he said again. “And my soldiers will lay down their guns—”

“No, Pat!” Gunner shouted, blood seeping through his fingers.

“—and they will vacate this square.”

“PATRICK!” I shouted.

“They will not try to stop you from taking me.” His hand shook. His chest quaked. “But hear this! I will gladly shoot myself now if another of my own is struck down. Don’t think I won’t use this second to do it. Stand down.”

There was confusion from soldier and Crafter both.

“STAND DOWN!” called Patrick, and he cocked the hammer.

A general with ranking stripes on his uniform moved forward slowly. He held his bayonet in one hand, its barrel skyward. His other hand was raised, placating. His eyes were pinned to Patrick. “Easy,” he said, and then over his shoulder.“Hold your fire.”

It seemed unnecessary. Every fighter was washed up. Half the ones still standing had lost their weapon or seemed unsure whether to point it at a man with a gun to his own head.

Otto had risen from the lot. He hobbled to Gunner’s side, tried to pull him back.

“Direct your men to retreat,” said the general to Patrick. “And I’ll do the same.”

My eyes were glued to that pistol at Patrick’s temple. I felt suddenly, horribly sure that he meant what he said. That he’d rather shoot himself here than see the rest of Kenton Hill burn.

He’d rather give himself in to the Artisans.

“No,” I whispered. Standing. Falling.

“All miners,” Patrick called, and his voice wavered. He closed his eyes but kept the gun poised. “To the hills. To your families. Now.”

It happened in painful increments. The surviving fighters of Kenton Hill rose. Some hoisted injured comrades over their shoulders. Others ran without looking back.

“GO!” Patrick bellowed to those more stubborn. “NOW!”

And perhaps they saw the desperation in his face. Perhaps they saw, then, this last gift Patrick had granted them. A thread of victory, the smallest of consolations. Patrick held the pistol steadfast. “Tell your men to get back into the fuckin’ hole they came from,” Patrick seethed. “Or you’ll be tellin’ Tanner it was all for naught.”

The general gestured to his soldiers, a silent command. Slowly, they slunk back through the doors of Margarite’s, their boots crunching over the glass. Warily, each retreated, miner and soldier, with red-rimmed eyes and blood on their hands. They took the wounded with them, and the square emptied. The Lords’ Army dwindled to a small legion.

And I saw Theodore slink away, back into the shadows of the alley he’d come from, his eyes to the ground, as though he could not bear to meet anyone’s gaze.

But Gunner refused to move. Otto remained at his side and was joined by Scottie, his eyebrow split, and Briggs, whose ear hung in bloody tatters, and Donny, who touched his forehead to Gunner’s. Scottie laid down his weapon first. Then the rest. They peeled the rifle from Gunner’s unwilling fingers, and the man let out a gut-wrenching yell.

I rose from the ground, then ran across the cobbles, unbalanced on my injured leg, past the general and all the way to Patrick, who did not react when I crushed myself to him, closing my arms around his middle.

I clutched him as a drowning person clutches a raft. I shook and shivered and dug my fingers in. I sobbed and thought they’d need a knife to cut me away.

I thought,At least they’ll take us both.

But when I looked up into Patrick’s face, he did not look back. He looked over me, away from me. The pistol remained at his temple and when he spoke, his voice was ice-cold. “Run,” he said, and then, more brokenly. “Now.”

And I didn’t understand it, at first. Didn’t recognize the hurt, the hatred. Not until his fingers curled over mine and ripped them harshly from his coat. He pushed me away. “Go,” he said once more. “Theo will find you.”

There was a resolve in his face, the one a convicted man wears as the noose pinches tight.

But I shook my head. “No,” I said.

And I heard him curse as I turned my back. Heard him call to me as I took a step toward the general. “My name is Nina Clarke,” I said loudly, and I watched recognition dawn as he took in the sight of me. “The earth Charmer.”

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