Page 57 of The Secrets of Jane: Reborn

My breathing quickens, licking my dry lips as all I want to do is flee. I hate this feeling that Skull’s Row creates, like bugs crawling underneath my skin.

Basilisk’s molten, golden eyes harden. “When that last carriage has crossed, you’ll want to run.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I nearly nudge my father when all he does is stand there. I steal a peek at the line of carriages, only three more still having to make their way over. What are we waiting for, actually? We can just cross aroundthose people. We’re definitely not the first ones to break the rules around here.

“He’s one of the best swordsmen out there,” Dad quietly warns, although I don’t hear any tone of being impressed. “Don’t engage with him in the slightest, Jane. Or run without word. This isdangerous.”

“I’m trying toleave,not engage.”

“You can’t see it, but that raven from earlier is on the other side of that bridge and has yet to caw. We are not to cross until we hear it.”

“What if that cat ate it to distract us, or something else happened to it? We could be waiting for nothing.”

Basilisk notices I motioned to his feline, who rubs against his leg, its long, pointy ears pulled back in an expression I don’t know how to read, given Mom was allergic to cats. “I don’t suggest speaking about my cat in front of me when I can’t hear what you’re saying about her,” Basilisk says.

My mouth parts, about to ask if he’s serious, when he replies, “Oh, I’m very serious. The last person to do that had their skull turned into a bowl for Jasmine to eat out of.”

The cat’s head perks to the side, rubbing its head on his leg at what has to be in a response to him saying its name.

A blade manifests from Dad’s sleeve, some onlookers giving us slightly more space, but no one is concerned—if anything, they’re all focused on staying away from the golden-eyed man. “Idle threats are not being disregarded. So if you want to threaten us, use your fucking words and let us know if this is going to get bloody or not.”

“Good to see you’re taking this seriously,” Basilisk replies, his gilded gaze looking over our shoulders. “People are looking for her, and that’s the last carriage. Your raven is about to—” he tilts his head as a raven caws. He scrunches his nose. “I would definitelyrun.”

As soon as the bird makes its sound, Dad’s entire energy morphs into action as his hand is on my back, glancing down at me. “Now.”

He guides me to the rocky bridge, and I find a pace between running and walking without hesitation, still wondering what the fuck Basilisk wants while being happy to be away from another Sensor. I can only take so much of that kind of invasion from another.And it’s the wrong man.

Donna yells from behind, “Sir, that’s not good news. Every rumor surrounding him suggests he’s here forher.”

Well.

She could have toldmethat.

“Cypress said to move when the raven cawed, so that’s what we’re sticking to. If she didn’t see Basilisk,” he takes in a deep breath, “Then she would have appeared in one way or another just now. We ignore him.”

The earrings dangle at my earlobes, the sensation so abnormal and distracting, just like the wind at the nape of my neck. Knowing what Cypress told me, I do believe that she lives to serve her god. Which means, for better or worse, my safety is her priority; until she’s done using me.

Crossing the bridge is a terrifying experience, a slight draft tugging at my cloak that whips up from the abyss below. The rope slightly sways like masts on a ship, and I keep focusing on placing one foot in front of the next.

“FASTER!” Donna shouts. “Ropes are falling. Don’t look back!”

My legs pump on command; I had this discussion with more than one person that if I’m given an order of urgency, the extra second to question it could costeverything.

There’s zero hesitation as I run like I’m back in a flaming Coalfell, so I can finally turn around…

Commotion greets me on the other side of the bridge, many of the onlookers shouting and covering their mouths; alotof expletives. Panting with burning lungs, I finally see one of the wooden pillars is hanging sideways, its rope severed so it eerily dangles down into nothingness.

My dad and Donna make it across, my subsequent exhale carrying so much relief.

I rub one of my eyes when it appears that theBasiliskstarts crossing the bridge, walking confidently as his cat follows his wake. The man swings his long sword to lop at each pole, the ropes releasing as the straw-bound barrier slowly collapses, covering the bridge in ruin. People scream with fury, many starting to cross the bridge from behind, weapons drawn, only for one of the men to get caught in the ropes, then scream in terror as he’s sent over the edge. I watch in abject awe and incredulity to see one completely plummet down into the darkness—not as lucky to get caught in the ropes as the others—his screams echoing far beyond when he’s last visible. The surviving ones swing and dangle, their pillar of support already cracking under their collective weight as they scramble to get back on the bridge.

The screaming from the blackness is abruptly quieted.

So much shouting, screaming, and chaos erupts. The Basilisk continues forward with more confident swipes of his sword, a few on our side debating on who will move forward to challenge him first.“That’s a shadow cat! Their fangs have venom. You got an antidote?”

“I swear to the fucking sirens that’s the Basilisk. I’m not going first!”

Just as quickly as they were to get lost in an uproar, the people start scattering like mice as Basilisk crosses beyond halfway.