Page 92 of Fate Breaker

The Lion’s Teeth

Sorasa

I should have killed her.

Sorasa broke the surface of the canal with a searing breath, trying not to choke down any more of the river water. Her arms worked, carrying her the last few feet to the wall of the canal. Dripping wet, she hauled herself up onto the dark street. She listened for the horns of the palace garrison, or the tromping feet of guards. But nothing came.

After sprinting through the palace gardens and diving into the Queen’s private lagoon, it was only a question of riding the current downstream. They emerged in a wealthy merchant quarter, close enough to the palace to warrant roving patrols of city watch. Timber-framed walls and shingle roofs marched away in ordered rows, the streets crisscrossed through the sector. Like the palace, this was another island in the city archipelago, surrounded by water on all sides.

Princesiden, Sorasa knew, spotting the telltale golden crowns stamped on the doors and signposts. Most of the merchants served the royal court of Galland, their shops the finest in the city. The storefronts were dark, shut up for the night. Windows glowed on the upper floors, betrayingthe people within. But no city watch, to Sorasa’s relief. The street was nearly empty, save for a few beggars, come out from their alleys and gutters. Three of them idled at the edge of the canal, paying no mind to an Amhara assassin and an immortal Elder climbing out of the river.

Their eyes were on the New Palace, and the fire consuming all within its walls.

Sorasa felt the heat of it on her back as she stood, a puddle growing under her feet. She dared not look at it, walled across the water. She knew well enough what lay behind, what she herself had done. Even so, she could not ignore the pop of exploding glass or roar of flame. Nor the shouting below it all, as servants and courtiers alike fled across the distant bridge or jumped into the canals.

They run like rats fleeing a sinking ship, Sorasa thought.I am a rat too, running from the best opportunity the realm will ever get.

Her eyes stung and she wrung out her hair, examining the streets. Her internal compass moved, adjusting to the grand city of Ascal as it splayed out around them.

A tower crumbled on the palace island, the sound a thunderclap. Sorasa kept on into the shadows, the darkness her only comfort in the world.

Dom followed, the last of his armor at the bottom of the canal. He wore only a leather jerkin and pants again, his old boots sloshing with every swift step. His hair fell wet and golden over one shoulder, his days in the dungeon still bruised beneath his eyes. Bedraggled as he was, Dom was still an Elder, immortal and dangerous, his green eyes bright as the fire behind them.

His voice hissed on her bare neck.

“You should have killed her.”

Sorasa gritted her teeth, navigating the fetid alley.

“Keep moving,” she snapped, ignoring the chill setting into her bones. Her leathers were soaked through.

Dom kept pace with annoying ease, in step with her. The alley narrowed, walls closing overhead, forcing them shoulder to shoulder. Sorasa used every inch of her will not to trip him against the bricks.

“Sarn,” he growled, ferocious.

She rolled her eyes and ducked down a tighter walkway. Dom had to move sidelong, his shoulders too broad to fit where Sorasa could walk freely.

“Snarl all you want, just keep up.”

She was careful to keep her face forward, her cheeks hot and red. Not for all the realm would she let Dom see her shame.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” he muttered.

Sorasa turned into a small square courtyard beneath narrow windows, a single dead tree at its center. Alleys fanned out in every direction. She knew each little path and where it would lead, growing out to streets and wide avenues, over bridges and canals, to the many gates set along the city walls.

East to Conqueror’s Gate, north to the Little Doors, west to Godherda.

She remembered the last gate well, from the last time they escaped Ascal. She could still hear the warning horns blaring through the city. Dom was injured then, half-conscious across the back of a stolen horse. He bled all the way through the night, until Sorasa worried he would not open his eyes at all. Back then she feared she might be left alone with Corayne and Andry, a nursemaid to the end of the world.

I would go back to that moment gladly, she thought.If only to walk the path again, with both eyes open.

Dom loomed, silent as she weighed the options of every road. She felt his gaze too keenly.

“Wayfarer’s Port,” Sorasa finally muttered, choosing the alley going east. Scowling, she glanced back over one shoulder. “I can do it blindfolded if you wish.”

He grimaced but followed along without argument. “That will not be necessary.”

“At least you finally trust some part of me,” Sorasa grumbled back, to her own surprise. Again she felt the slow creep of heat across her face.