Page 163

“There’s another gate,” Sorasa said, her breath even despite her pace. She raised a hand to point. “Near the eastern docks. It spitsyou out onto the coast and back along the Cor road.”

“Domacridhan!” A woman’s voice rang out behind them, gaining fast.

Over her shoulder, Corayne glimpsed Dom’s cousin, the Elder princess, along with a contingent of immortal warriors and a few Jydi, the blond chief among them.

Dom showed a rare grin but didn’t stop, none of them breaking stride. It would be their death, and the death of the Ward.

Corayne’s legs burned with exertion, but she matched Andry’s pace next to her, hemmed in tight among the Companions.

“Charlie was smart to sit this one out,” she panted.

If only I’d done the same.

Andry only huffed. His tunic was torn and bloody, ruined almost beyond recognition. The sight turned Corayne’s stomach, not because of the gore, but for what it meant for Andry Trelland.

They kept running, Sorasa in the lead with Dom and Princess Ridha fanned out behind. Sigil limped along between them, fighting to keep pace as best she could. The city burned and the hounds roared, the dragon circling overhead, the streets and alleys crumbling together. But Sorasa kept them moving, always sliding and turning, winding a serpentine path toward the dock gate. They left footprints in the falling ash, the blizzard still swirling beneath the pulse of the dragon’s wings.

Finally they found a half-clear street running up close to the city walls. Corayne almost wanted to climb them, but the flames jumped and spat, giving no quarter. She found herself dreaming of the port and plunging into the icy waves.

A rider jumped out from an alley, careening around a bend atblistering speed. Corayne squinted at him as he rode, not for the sea, but directly toward them. The horse was coal black, bigger than the shaggy horses the war band rode. And the rider was all in black armor, the metal gleaming, too dark to be steel. Even at a glance, she knew he wasn’t one of Oscovko’s men, or anyone else’s.

“Go,” she heard Ridha bellow as she all but shoved Sorasa into the closest alley. The Elder princess did the same to Corayne and Andry, her immortal strength making them skid through the ash and snow.

Sorasa whirled. “What are you—”

“There’s no time,” Ridha barked back, drawing her sword. The green steel of her armor looked sickly in the firelight. “Dom, get her out of here—”

The black horse slammed into Ridha’s body, sending her spinning out into the street. Her armor ripped sparks along the paved stones.

Dom roared out in anguish and ran to his cousin, sliding to his knees at her side.

Her warriors reacted as one, jumping at the black rider. The Jydi screamed too, led by their chief. She roared loudest of all, giving a shuddering cry before leaping onto the rider’s back. He tossed her bodily against the wall, her head colliding with a sick crack.

Ridha roared a guttural sound and fought to her feet, sword still in hand. Dom rose with her, his teeth bared, his blade shining. The pair of them were the sun and moon, golden and black-haired. They faced the rider together, even as he rode over the Jydi, splitting throats with a horrible black blade.

Numbness crept over Corayne as she watched, the edges of the world turning to flame. “Dom,” she murmured, trying to call for him.

But Sigil pushed her on, deeper into the alley. She limped, wincing with every step.

“He’ll be right behind us,” she said. “Follow Sorasa.”

The assassin stood half in shadow, watching the black knight bear down on the immortals, felling them one by one. Her copper eyes followed every pass of his blade.

“Don’t worry about the immortal brute,” she murmured, her voice tight. She gestured for Andry and Corayne to keep going. “We’re close.”

Corayne wanted to scream against every step without him, the alley twisting farther and farther away. Then the street was gone entirely, the sound of hooves and steel swallowed up by flame and the dragon’s pounding wings. Andry kept on beside her, his eyes forward, his brown skin beaded with sweat. His face seemed a mask, pulled down to hide the terror they all felt.

With a swoop of her stomach, Corayne looked around.

“Where’s Sigil?” she bit out, half a scream.

Up ahead, Sorasa faltered. Her steps slowed but she did not turn. “Keep moving,” she hissed.

Corayne ignored her, glaring back down the alley. “Sigil!”

A familiar form slumped away around the distant corner, her shadow rippling in the firelight as she made her way back to the street. Her ax dangled from her hand, the last piece of her to disappear.

“Keep moving,” Sorasa said again, louder now. Her voice went raw with emotion.