Page 20

CHAR JOINED KARL , sitting on the floor next to the lamp. Emily giggled as she burrowed into the nest of blankets, then rolled over and went straight to sleep.

“Beds are still an amazing novelty to her,” Karl admitted, smiling fondly at Emily. “She was too young when our foster parents died to remember.”

“Foster parents?” Char asked. He hadn’t wanted to question Karl about his past before, not when it was clearly a difficult subject. Besides, Karl had always been reserved, always cognizant of the fact that he was in trouble. Even when he snuck Emily and Shan into the military compound, he had been careful and polite, and so hopeful, and Char hadn’t felt right interrogating him. Perhaps Fen had, but he hadn’t shared any of that with Char.

Karl slumped, sighing. “It’s a quiet service nobles like to use. I have no idea if it’s legal, but no one’s stopped them. Any embarrassing children—bastards from affairs, children from unmarried mothers, or just general embarrassments—this service takes them all. Raises them as comfortable peasants. We’re not supposed to know our origins, but we figure it out pretty quickly, especially when we learn we can’t attend any of the crown schools to learn how to use our powers because we might be recognized.” He paused to shake his head. “One of the big gangs figured out our foster parents had a lot more money than they should and tried to rob them. They died in the attack, and we were forced onto the streets. Now you know everything.”

Karl had then attempted to pick Jensen’s pocket and was sentenced to work off his crime, after which he successfully conned the royal guard into taking all three of them.

“Is Emily really your sister?” Char asked.

Karl nodded. “I’m pretty sure we had the same father but different mothers. The same servant came with money every month for us both, although I have no idea which noble our father actually is.”

Char couldn’t promise anything he couldn’t follow through with, but he wanted to tell Karl he wouldn’t have to worry any longer. Captain Zain had clearly adopted Emily, and Char wasn’t about to give up Karl or Shan. He had a feeling Fen was on the same page, but he needed Fen’s permission before he could offer the kids anything permanent.

For now, he simply smiled at Karl and said, “I’m certainly glad to have met you, and not just for what you did today. You’re becoming very good at making bread, you know.”

Karl grinned, and then his smile faded into a grimace. “I’m cheating a bit. My magic tells me whether the yeast is blooming and lets me help it grow if it’s struggling.”

Char blinked, surprised. He knew red magic was used to help things grow, which was why farmers were the primary—legal—users. Char had never considered things like yeast could also be manipulated that way.

“I wonder if you can take a sprouted onion that’s gotten too tough to cook with and make it regress to simply being ripe?”

Karl shrugged. “Red magic isn’t understood all that well, and even if I could have gone to one of the crown schools, I would have been stuffed into either farming or killing. I was considering making fake papers for Emily when she’s older to get her into a school, and for Shan too, but my magic is too narrow so I’ve been ignoring it until now.”

“Tell you what. When we get back to the military compound, we’re going to set aside some onions and potatoes to let them get really overgrown and see what your magic can do. Yes, there are limitations, and yes, there are certain expectations for each type of magic, but in my experience your magic is only constrained by your imagination. Let’s find out just what you can actually do.”

This time Karl’s smile didn’t fade, and he let out a laugh. “Okay. Let’s do that!”

They lapsed into silence as they waited, the long minutes passing achingly slow. Char tried not to jump at every creak and crack, but half expected the door to fly open and the dark stranger to descend on them again. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he put his inner chef’s clock to good use and estimated it was at least two hours before he heard voices and the clop and jingle of horses in the alley outside.

Someone knocked on the door, followed by Ralph’s far too welcome voice. “Hey, we’re coming in!”

The door opened and Ralph appeared in the space. He stepped aside and Fen replaced him. Char didn’t know what noise he made, only that he dashed forward, and within seconds, Fen’s warm, strong arms were around him, holding him close and rocking him side to side as Char buried his face into Fen’s shoulder.

At some point, Char realized Fen was whispering a repeated litany of comfort into his ear, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

When Char eventually pulled away, he only went as far as arm’s length, still glad to be wrapped in Fen’s embrace. Fen freed one hand to gently run his thumb under Char’s eyes, wiping away any evidence Char had been crying.

“Did they hurt you? Do you need a healer?” Fen asked, his eyes focused on Char, searching Char’s face as if a minute change in expression could provide all the answers he wanted.

Char shook his head. “No, they only tied me up and threatened me. They got distracted and left for a bit, which is when the kids came to the rescue.”

Ralph let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, you won’t believe who had come to their door. Apparently, a group of guards was assigned to every neighborhood to conduct a search of each house, and the one for that particular noble’s house was out front while we were climbing out a back window. Had we used the main roads in our escape, we would have seen them and been rescued hours ago.”

“I was supervising the groups searching the warehouse district,” Fen explained. “Ralph and Shan found Jensen, who sent someone to find me while he led the raid on the house you escaped from. Ralph and I came straight here.”

“Do you think Jensen was able to catch them?” Char asked, hopeful the dark stranger was arrested and all his terrible threats neutralized.

Unfortunately, both Ralph and Fen shook their heads. “Too much time went by after you all escaped,” Fen explained. “They probably had more than enough time to find you gone and then run. Although, if we’re lucky, they won’t have had enough time to destroy all the evidence, so we’ll hopefully get something out of the raid. I should have a report from Jensen soon.”

The light from inside the cellar went out and Char turned to see Karl carefully closing the door, Emily yawning and rubbing her eyes at his side. A glance upward revealed the sun had set at some point, and the alley was being brightly lit by mage lights. They started walking down the alley, heading to the main road. Char’s arm brushed against Fen’s as they went, sending warmth and comfort with every touch.

Char didn’t know what made him look up again, nor how he noticed the dark shape partially obscured behind the shine of the bright lights, but when the shadow tensed and leaped, Char shouted and shoved, sending Fen sprawling out of the way of the long knife that slashed the air where he had just been standing.

The dark stranger straightened from where they had landed and then lunged, the knife aiming for Char, who was able to deflect it, his hands and arms glowing bright blue. The knife’s edge suddenly took on a red sheen—assassin’s magic. This time when the stranger lunged, the knife slid right through Char’s magic, scoring a deep line across the back of his arm in a flare of pain that had Char yelping, his tears already streaming.

“Char!” Fen yelled. He slid between Char and the stranger, slashing with a sword glowing brilliant gold. The red knife slid aside, parried easily as the royal magic overpowered the assassin’s.

They were surrounded, Char realized. Fen, Ralph, and the half-dozen guards they had brought along were fighting at least fifteen assailants. The narrow alley hampered everyone. Swords were too long to swing properly, and they kept bumping into each other. Even the assailants appeared to regret their choice of ambush location since all fifteen couldn’t attack at once. Only the stranger with their long knife, rather than a sword, and the two kids, who also only had knives, weren’t having trouble. Karl and Emily darted between the fighters, slashing and stabbing as they went, dropping assailants with far more ease than the seasoned guards.

Char stood in the middle of it all, clutching at his arm and feeling helpless, trying to stifle the tears still streaming down his cheeks. He was a chef, not a fighter, but there had to be something he could do to help. Someone had left a knife on the ground. Char scooped it up with the hand of his uninjured arm and glanced around, hoping to find some way to help.

Everywhere he looked was absolute mayhem. Fen was fighting the stranger, his gold-glowing sword clashing against the red-glowing long knife. The longer reach of the sword was hampered by the tight confines of the alley, but Fen was clearly the more skilled of the two so it wasn’t hampering him much. Ralph took on two fighters, and as Fen watched, he skewered the one on the left, kicked her off his sword, and turned to engage the one on his right. Karl darted between the fighters, slashing and jabbing with a bloodied knife in each hand. He got one fighter in the side, the man immediately collapsing and letting the royal guard turn to another opponent. Emily was... Char cast around, trying to figure out where she was, and finally caught sight of her as a group of fighters moved past Char and deeper into the alley. She was creeping up behind one of the assailants, who had cornered a guard against a trash bin. Slow and stealthy, like a cat. Except, behind her was another attacker, grinning. He swung his blade as Char dived forward, and the metal slid harmlessly off Char’s blue-glowing arm.

A scream from behind him said Emily had found her mark, but Char couldn’t turn to look. All his attention was focused on the man in front of him who slashed and stabbed at Char, snarling when his short sword bounced harmlessly away from Char’s exposed flesh. The last slash sent the man’s arm careening wide as the impact with Char’s magic sent the sword skittering away. Char saw the opening and took it, lunging forward.

Stabbing a human wasn’t all that different from stabbing a side of beef. An initial puncture through the skin, then resistance that tried to punch the knife back at Char—the hilt sliding in his hand until he tightened his grip—and then smooth gliding as the knife reached the softer bits inside. However, dead animals didn’t let out a terrible scream, nor did hot blood start gushing and flowing over Char’s hand, making his already tenuous grip too slick to hold onto as the man jerked back. The man stumbled back another step, Char’s knife sticking out the right side of his stomach, and gaped, his mouth open like a fish out of water.

And then, suddenly, the alley was full of guards. Zain strode into view, and Char let out a heavy sigh of relief. One of the attackers lunged for her, and Zain casually slapped him aside, her gauntlet slicing his face open, and her strength sending him slamming against the alley wall. He lay where he fell.

“I leave you alone for five minutes!” she snarled.

Emily popped up at Zain’s side, the baby chick returning to her mother, as Zain walked through the fighting as if she were strolling through a meadow on her way to a picnic. She glanced at Char, covered in blood, most of which wasn’t his own, and lifted an eyebrow, but she quickly focused on Fen.

“What are you doing, boy?” she snapped, her voice booming through the alley. “Stop prolonging the fight!”

Fen let out a long sigh and rolled his shoulders as if they were tight. “Do you surrender?” Fen asked.

The stranger didn’t reply, charging forward as his knife traced a pattern in the air. Fen stepped into it and leaned to the side so the knife passed harmlessly to his left. Char didn’t see him move, but the golden sword was suddenly sticking out the other side of the stranger. More blood flowed, and the body collapsed, boneless, as it slid off the sword to flop on the ground.

“Bring one of those lights over!” Zain commanded as she strode over to Fen, who was bending down. He freed his sword first, then used the tip to drag the dark hood away from the stranger’s face. Sightless gold-brown eyes stared out of a face frozen in a snarl. Familiar, gold-brown eyes. Char turned just in time to see Karl step forward, the same colored eyes gazing down at the dead man.

“Was he my father?” Karl asked, his voice tight with what sounded like anger.

“If I had to guess,” Fen replied after a moment of thought, “I would say this is probably your uncle. Baron Whistfield is more likely to be your father, since he would have the motivation to hide bastard children. His wife is the younger daughter of an earl who would be very displeased—in terms of continuing to fund Whistfield’s political and social calendar—to find out he’s cheating on her. If I remember correctly, though, this is Lord Oliver.”

“Oliver is his older brother’s stooge,” Zain cut in. “I’m going to take a contingent to go and have a chat with dear Baron Whistfield if you think you can stay out of trouble for long enough, that is,” she added to Fen. Fen quirked an eyebrow at her, and she sighed. “With your permission, Commander.”

“Permission granted.”

She saluted and trotted off, about half her guards going with her. Fen turned to Ralph next.

“I want the prisoners interrogated and the bodies searched. And we should make sure to prepare Lord Oliver’s body for his brother’s viewing.”

Ralph saluted and started calling out orders, striding off down the alley toward the dead end where a group of surviving attackers was being searched for weapons. Fen turned to Char next, frowning heavily as he took in the blood and dirt covering Char from head to foot.

“The red magic got you, right?” Karl asked as he hurried to Char’s side. His hand glowed red briefly as he held it over Char’s injured arm. The pain vanished immediately, fading away as if he had never been injured, and Char let out a relieved sigh.

“I think all of us need to go home, take a bath, and get some sleep,” Fen said. Apparently, Ralph had filled him in about the kids’ magic, because he didn’t miss a beat due to surprise. He finally led the way out of the alley and into the street. Horses had scattered everywhere, but Fen whistled, and the one he usually rode trotted over. Fen mounted and pulled Char up to sit behind him. A second guard came over with another horse. He hoisted Emily up into the saddle, climbed up behind her, and then yanked Karl up to sit pillion behind him.

Char fell asleep during the ride, Fen’s hand over the arms Char had wrapped around his waist pretty much the only thing that kept him in the saddle. He was groggy when they dismounted but followed where Fen led, which was eventually to a large bathing room with both an overhead shower and a sunken tub.

Char stepped into the hot water flowing from the shower spigot, letting it run over his body. Blood dripped off him, turning the tile floor first red and then pink, before the water ran clear again. Char was shaking, he realized, as he stepped aside to let Fen reach the water and to get some soap. Fen stood under the water for only a brief couple of seconds to let the outer layer of blood and dirt wash off before gently grabbing Char and pulling him into his arms.

“It’s okay. We’re all okay,” Fen whispered into Char’s hair, holding him tight as those simple words released a torrent inside Char. Tears flowed, dripping down his cheeks to be washed away by the water exactly the same as the blood had done.

“I killed a man,” Char said, his voice broken and choked. “I felt the knife go into him, and then all that blood, and he was dead.”

“I saw what you did; you saved Emily’s life,” Fen cut in. “You stopped a man who would have enjoyed killing a child. And that’s after saving my life.” He paused, one hand stroking down Char’s back. “It’s good you feel guilty. That means your soul is still intact. But you shouldn’t let that guilt define you because what you did was for the right reasons. No one would ever fault you for that, so don’t fault yourself.”

Char listened to Fen’s soft, gently cajoling voice and finally his tears slowed. He turned his face up into the spray, washing away the tightness on his face, wishing the water was enough to also wash away the aching hole he felt inside. Yet, Fen’s words helped soothe that too. Char doubted it would ever completely go away, but by the time Fen released him and let Char resume locating soap, he no longer felt as if he ought to be the one arrested in that alley. When they tumbled into the bed together in the next room, Char immediately fell back to sleep, curled up with Fen’s strength surrounding him, and didn’t wake until someone knocked on the door the next morning.