Page 64

“This is where they brought us through,” the woman says. “I had been sentenced by the Black Guard for saying something blasphemous and instead of jail or a hanging, they brought me here.”

“Did you know this would happen?” Brynla asks her, huffing behind me.

“No,” she says. “There’s already a monthly sacrifice to the Midlands. I never heard of this happening beneath the convent.”

“They called the dragon Magni,” I say. “Do they think it’s the sorcerer?”

“Yes,” the woman says breathlessly. “They believe it’s Magni in his true form.”

“And you?” Brynla asks her.

“I think they’re full of shit,” she says.

Finally I see faint light up ahead, the outline of a door, and we burst through it into a space filled with filtered light, the air heavy with the smell of hay and manure.

It’s disorienting for a moment, until I realize we’ve come out into a stable, a row of stalls with horses, with a carriage parked outside, two horses attached and nibbling on hay scattered on the sandy ground.

This wasn’t something we were counting on—we thought Vidar, Raine, and Feet would be back here by now under the disguise of the Black Guard—but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Everyone in the carriage!” I yell. Everyone runs forward out of the barn and I climb up onto the driver’s seat with Kirney beside me, Brynla and Lemi staying in the coach with the rest of the freed prisoners.

I clack my tongue and snap the reins, and the horses rear in surprise before thundering across the desert.

I keep coaxing them, glancing over my shoulder at the convent, the dark mass of a castle as it rises from the stark desert floor, like a blight on the land.

So far no one has emerged in pursuit of us, giving us a head start.

It isn’t until we’ve passed through a narrow gorge, the east gate of Lerick on the horizon, flanked by dragon statues, that a Black Guardsman bursts out from a row of sagebrush and comes galloping from around the corner, heading straight for us.

“Vidar!” I yell at the quickly approaching guard, his black steed, the same breed as Onyx, moving faster than any horse should. Even if the guardsmen aren’t using suen, it’s apparent their horses are.

“Vidar! Belfaust! Raine!” Kirney hollers at him. “Raise your hand if it’s you!”

The guardsman raises his mace instead, swinging around the spiked ball, about to aim it at our horses. With his other hand he raises the shield of his helmet, showcasing a pale man with red eyes underneath.

“Oh fuck, not them,” I say, trying to maneuver the horses out of the way.

But the guardsman keeps coming, letting go of the reins, a sword in the other hand now, almost upon us.

He’s about to let the mace go when suddenly he’s hit with something, right between the eyes, like a tiny arrow, and he falls backward off the horse, left in a heap in the dust.

“What the fuck was that?” I yell, passing the reins to Kirney while I stare behind me, the guardsman writhing in the sand while his horse runs off in another direction.

Suddenly Brynla pops her head out of the carriage, grinning at me, her purple hair having come loose from her braids and flowing behind her.

I don’t think she can get any more beautiful.

“I stole more than an egg from the Harbringer,” she says proudly. “A miniature poisoned arrow.”

I stand corrected. She’s now the most beautiful sight in the world.

She blows me a kiss and then sticks her head back into the carriage.

I let out a little growl, my cock pulsing beneath my armor. If we make it out of here alive, I’m going to ravage the fuck out of her and I don’t care if the entire ship hears it.

Kirney gives me an odd look.

“Just keep driving,” I tell him. “We have to get through Lerick before we can relax.”

And a carriage galloping at full speed is going to attract a lot of attention.

Luckily by the time we pass underneath the east gate, there isn’t a Black Guard to be seen. Seems Vidar and the rest did their job.

I take the reins over from Kirney as the city appears and the streets get narrow, doing my best to dodge the civilians, even though we’re taking out and knocking over every street cart we see, galloping through shop awnings, decimating the tents of a market, spices flying in the air until the horses are painted in shades of red, yellow, and white.

People are yelling, running around in a panic, and in the distance I see dark figures up on scaffolding and the roofs of buildings, arrows being drawn, and then three guardsmen galloping toward us.

“Friend or foe, friend or foe?” I yell, not daring to slow down as the carriage careens around another tight corner, everyone yelping from behind me.

It isn’t until one of the guards gets close and flips up his shield that I see that it’s Vidar.

“Head for the ship!” he yells, as he, Raine, and Feet come into formation behind us. “Watch for the arrows.”

Just as he says that, arrows fly from the rooftops, hitting the sides of the carriage.

One of them hits Kirney in the arm.

“Fuck!” he yells, grabbing his biceps. “It pierced the armor!”

“Hold on,” I tell him just as the lane opens up and we find ourselves at the waterfront. “Almost there.”

Here the tiles are white, giving the whole area a clean appearance, fishing boats neatly tied along the docks, the horses’ hoofbeats echoing loudly as we gallop through throngs of people.

Up ahead is the wharf and at the very end of it, my ship, with Steiner and Toombs on deck and Feet standing on the dock, holding on to the ship’s lines, the sun setting over the horizon behind them.

“Almost there,” I say under my breath. “Come on.”

The wharf itself is wide enough for the carriage, but even so it’s hard to maneuver around all the people fishing off it, most of them having to launch themselves into the water to get out of the way.

“Set sail!” I yell at Toombs.

He nods and he and Steiner run around the ship, attempting to get it underway. Any other time I would have been tickled pink at the idea of Steiner, the most unphysical person I know, lending a helping hand, but he’s actually doing good quick work.

I pull the horses to a stop and jump off the carriage, giving them an appreciative pat as I run to the boat and take the line from Feet.

“Get on board, everyone, go, go, go.” The ship is already starting to pull away from the dock, Kirney running past me to leap onboard, along with Vidar, Raine, and Belfaust.

“What about us?” the mint-haired woman says, the other prisoners huddling behind her.

“You can come with us,” I tell them. “Start a new life. Or you can go back to the one you have here.”

“Remember there’s always the Banished Land,” Brynla tells them. “You can keep your freedoms in the Dark City. But if you come with us, you can’t come back here.”

“Brynla, hurry!” I yell at her. I appreciate her compassion but not at the cost of her life.

“All right,” the woman says. “I’m coming.” She looks at the rest of the group. “If you stay, you will die here. Or you’ll find yourself back in that place.”

That’s enough to get the group moving. Brynla and the woman help the old man and the rest of the prisoners toward the ship, helping them onboard.

“What’s your name?” I ask the woman as she hurries past.

“Eydis,” she says, and for the first time I realize how young she must be. Around Steiner’s age.

“Nice to have you on board, Eydis,” I say to her.

Then, once everyone is clear, I let the line go slack and start pushing the ship away from the dock. When it’s at the end of the rope, I leap into the air, rope in hand, splashing into the ocean before climbing up the rope and onto the boat.

Vidar grabs my arm and pulls me the rest of the way, helping me to my feet. “Good to see you, brother,” I tell him.

“Were you successful?” he asks me.

I wipe the wet hair from my forehead and stare at the harbor, watching as the Black Guard starts galloping across the white tiles, like a spreading stain. With any luck the wind will be on our side, taking us straight to the Midlands, a place they wouldn’t dare follow anyway.

Though after all I’ve seen today, I wouldn’t put anything past them.

“Andor?” Vidar says again, until I meet his eyes. They have a feverish sheen to them, no longer as cool and collected as they usually are. “Were you successful? Did you get the egg?”

I nod slowly. “Brynla did, yes.”

“Are you sure it’s the right one?”

“I’m sure we’ll find out,” I tell him carefully.

As if he can tell I’m studying him, his features go blank. “Job well done, then,” he says, before he turns and walks off.