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You are wrong to trust a coward, she thought bitterly.Too afraid to do what I should have, and doom us both to whatever hell waits.

If Dom noticed her discomfort, he did not show it.

“You should have killed her,” he said again, for no good reason.

Again Sorasa shivered and cursed her wet clothing. “I already regret leaving you alive.”

His blond brow furrowed. “The Queen of Galland is worth more than both of us.”

At her side, Sorasa’s fingers closed into a tight fist. She could still feel the bronze dagger in her hand, the warm leather of the hilt familiar as her own face. It was lost forever now, stained with the blood of a queen.

“You think I don’t know that, Elder?” she snapped, voice echoing off the stone walls. Her body whirled to face him, nearly colliding with his broad form.

He glared down at her, lips parted, eyes wide, all the pain and frustration written plainly. Sorasa felt the same in her own heart, alongside the regret.I could not do it. I could not let us both die there. Not even with Erida in the balance.Sorasa’s fist trembled and he continued to stare, his eyes unblinking. Green met copper-gold.

Somewhere in the distance, another rumble boomed, followed by a massive slosh of moving water. Another piece of the palace collapsed, this time into the canals. Wall or tower, Sorasa could not say. Behind it all,the roar of fire continued to rage, swallowing up the sounds of any mortal screams. As the destruction spread, so did the panic. Candles flared up in windows and citizens poked out into the streets, voices rising across Ascal.

Sorasa knew chaos would soon follow. They need only stay ahead of it.

“She may yet be dead,” Sorasa heard herself murmur.

The tower was on fire, the palace crumbling around us. And I left her nailed to a table.

Dom’s low chuckle was more akin to a scoff. “I know better than to hope, Sarn. We are not so lucky, are we?”

“We are still alive,” Sorasa said. “I guess that’s lucky enough.”

Then she heaved a ragged breath, leaving such thoughts behind.

“Keep moving,” she said again, softer. “I don’t know what kind of time we have, but we must use what we can.”

For once, Domacridhan did not argue. He did as commanded, a shadow at her back.

The pair of them passed through the alleys and side streets like a dark wind. Sorasa avoided the grander avenues as much as she could, and the market squares. Even at night, there would be a good amount of traffic, with half the city frequenting the taverns, playhouses, brothels, and gambling halls. Not to mention soldiers of the city garrison and guards of the watch. Both would be rushing toward the palace, to help the evacuation—and to hunt for those responsible.

“What of Sigil?” Dom whispered behind her.

Sorasa winced and pressed up against the wall behind her, narrowly avoiding a pair of washerwomen ambling by.

“Sigil will be at the port with the Temur ambassador,” Sorasa replied, firm. She refused to entertain the possibility of anything else. “Fromthere, we can all get out of the city. Stow away with the Temur, sail out under the ambassador’s protection. Simple.”

Nothing in this life is ever simple.Sorasa knew that lesson too well.

Above her, Dom narrowed his eyes. Elder though he was, foolish to mortal emotion, Sorasa felt studied. It made her skin crawl.

“We have escaped this city once,” he said, gesturing for her to walk on. “We can do it again.”

Sorasa spun on her heel with some relief, grateful to put Dom behind her. She did not like the way he stared, reading her as he never had before. She had never spent so much unbroken time with another before. Not even in the citadel, where the acolytes were separated for weeks at a time. By now, she’d been six months with Dom, every second like the scratch of nails on glass.

As they walked, Sorasa found herself longing for a few minutes alone. If only to tie her mask a little tighter and don a bit more armor over her heart.

“The Temur ship will have a copper-colored flag with a black wing on it,” she said after a few minutes.

Dom’s voice darkened. “Why would I need to know that?”

“Because you should know things, Dom,” she muttered back, exasperated. “Just in case.”

In case we are separated. Or worse.