Page 18

Chapter

Ten

EZABELL

W e sprinted from the brothel, sunlight slanting over the cobblestone street ahead of us.

“This way,” Nikolas said, grabbing my hand and pulling me down a narrow alley. Dain pounded behind us as we twisted and turned, racing past stray cats and the occasional clothesline. A man in an apron jumped out of our way, and Nikolas turned his head enough to call back to him.

“Sorry! Late for work!”

I shot him what I knew was an incredulous look. “Work?”

He flashed a roguish grin. “I’ve started more than one work day this way.”

Of course. Thief.

We continued down more alleys and twisting passageways. But after another fifteen minutes of flight, Nikolas stopped. He and Dain peered behind us, alertness hovering around them. They relaxed in unison, the tension draining from their shoulders.

“Free and clear,” Nikolas told me, releasing my hand. “But we should keep moving.”

Dain grunted his agreement. “We’re better off in the city’s center where we can blend in.”

It was hard to imagine Dain blending in anywhere. He towered over everyone, his blond head like a beacon. But I tucked my hair under my hood and nodded.

“Lead the way.”

The way , as it turned out, was a maze of ramshackle alleys and shadowy corridors.

The buildings leaned over the street, many with boarded up windows.

The occasional murmur of voices drifted from doorways, but no humans crossed our path.

The pungent, slightly sweet scent of rotting garbage wrinkled my nose.

I lifted my skirts as I stepped over a brown puddle. “Are you sure this is safe?” I murmured to Nikolas.

His chuckle echoed off the buildings on either side of us. “We’re safer here than anywhere else. The castle guards don’t venture into these alleys. They don’t want to get their uniforms dirty.” He caught my elbow as he helped me sidestep a pile of animal bones.

At least, I hoped they were animal bones.

Dain snorted softly. “And the residents are all too willing to help by dumping their chamber pots without warning.”

Right on cue, shutters on a second-story window ahead of us swung open. A second later, a stream of yellow liquid arced through the opening and splashed onto the cobblestones.

I put a hand over my mouth. “Oh.” The stories I’d read about Saldu always described the city as a bustling, sun-drenched collection of temples, markets, and pleasure houses. Not…this.

Nikolas tucked my free hand through his elbow. As if he’d read my mind, he leaned close. “Come on. We’re almost out of this neighborhood. Then we’ll show you the brighter side of Saldu.”

Dain fell into step on my other side. As we gave the urine in the street a wide berth, he put a guiding hand in the small of my back.

The connection between us sparked, a jolt of energy heating my skin through my clothes. Dain and I jumped, our gazes colliding.

Nikolas slid a keen look between us. “Feel any tugs?”

I waited for the magic to pull me forward. But it merely pulsed, as if it hadn’t decided where to go. “Do you feel anything?” I asked Dain.

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

I swallowed a sigh. “Then we’ll continue into Saldu.”

We moved deeper into the city. As Nikolas promised, the shabby neighborhood faded behind us, the roads widening and the buildings becoming taller and more presentable.

The streets grew busier. Humans bustled about, merchants pushing carts of vegetables and other goods.

The rising sun cast broad swaths of gold and pink over the buildings, the bricks painted in every color of the rainbow.

Music filled the air—flutes and something that sounded like the clash of cymbals joining the buzz of conversation and the clipped sound of horses’ hooves.

A square opened before us, and I caught my breath at the sight of golden spires piercing the blue sky.

“The Temple of the Burning Star,” Nikolas said at my shoulder. He pointed at the largest spire. “On the solstice, the sun appears to sit atop the very tip. It’s beautiful to behold.”

We kept moving, and I drank in the sights and sounds of the city. Lum Laras was more regal—and it was certainly cleaner—but Saldu offered a different kind of charm. The human city was alive , every corner humming with activity.

Flowers bloomed on vines that spilled from the windows of upper stories, the splashes of pink, red, and violet as big as a dinner plate. The scent of spices mingled with the flowers’ heady aromas, which perfumed the air.

The humans were just as colorful. Women wore long skirts and tight-fitting tops that bared their arms and midriffs.

Many draped matching scarves over their heads, the flowing material shielding them from the sun.

Men dressed in trousers and sleeveless jackets, knife hilts tucked into wide leather belts.

As the sun climbed higher, I envied the people of Saldu their flowing silks and lack of sleeves.

The cloak dragged at my shoulders, the material weighting me down with every step.

Sweat prickled under my arms, and my chemise stuck to my back.

But removing the heavy garment wasn’t an option.

Not when the slightest glimpse of my ears or sigils would mark me as an elf among humans.

Plus, Corvus was searching for me, that traitorous prick. Anger boiled in my gut as I trailed Nikolas through a throng of shoppers browsing a row of merchants’ stalls. As I passed a man selling blown glass, something on the wall behind him caught my eye.

Parchment of various shapes and sizes covered the space, the edges fluttering in the breeze. A prominent square in the middle declared:

A NEW KING IN ISHULUM. CORVUS ORAKLEIDES CROWNED KING OF THE SUMMER COURT.

Gods, had he ever really loved me? Even as the question formed, I knew the answer.

I’d trusted him. Like a fool, I’d confided in him, pouring my heart out when my father rode off to yet another tourney.

I’d leaned on Corvus for counsel, trusting him to give me good advice.

I’d given him my heart and my body. With every kiss and moonlight-soaked endearment, he’d plotted to steal my throne.

I couldn’t know for sure if he’d sent men across the Covenant to kill me.

But after the brothel, it seemed likely.

The man I thought I loved had lied to my face as he stabbed me in the back. And now I had nothing. No sunstone. No kingdom. No home.

The wall of parchment blurred. I turned from the merchant’s stall and bounced off a hard chest.

“Whoa,” Dain said, grasping my arms. When I tried to duck my head, he moved one hand to my chin and tipped my gaze up. A tear streaked down my face, and I swiped it away.

“It’s nothing,” I said quickly. “Dust in my eye.”

He was silent a moment. Then he nodded solemnly. “The sun bakes the ground. Makes things dusty. I’ve suffered the same affliction from time to time.”

A lump formed in my throat. His was a sweet lie. He was sweet, his strength and size hiding a gentleness I’d glimpsed more than once. He held my gaze as the marketplace bustled around us, his eyes the same color as the sky behind him.

“Sometimes,” he continued, “it feels like everything is lost. When that happens, I like to think about the things I still have. A day ago, I had no money. But now I have gold. And friends. The sun is shining, and I’m alive.

” He brushed a knuckle over my jaw, his touch fleeting but crackling with magic. “I have a beautiful woman by my side.”

My heart sped up. Heat built under my skin, and it wasn’t the Dokimasi. It was Dain. Big and steady, his bulk an unmovable boulder in the sea of color and noise around us.

“Well,” I said, my stomach fluttering, “that’s something.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “It is, indeed.”

Nikolas appeared at his side, the hint of his dimple flashing in his cheek as he palmed Dain’s shoulder. “Here you two are. Thought I lost you. I’m starved, let’s find something to eat.”

We moved through the market, leaving the news sheet behind. But thinking of Corvus made me remember I hadn’t seen Helios since we parted on the road. He was resourceful, but he was still made of magic. Andulum was no place for him. Was he all right? Had he found a safe place to hide?

My worry must have shown on my face because Nikolas cast me an inquisitive look. “Everything all right?”

“Yes,” I said. Then I sighed. “No.” I lowered my voice. “Just thinking about Helios.”

Nikolas’s features smoothed. He paused by a stall stacked with oranges. Flipping a coin to the merchant, he selected two from the pile and handed me one. “Don’t worry about the sunsquirt, Princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” I whispered, glancing around. “And Helios is a sunsprite .”

“Same thing,” Nikolas said as we moved down the line of produce, blown glass, and bolts of fabric. He passed his orange to Dain, then produced a third one seemingly from thin air.

Stolen. I hadn’t even seen him take it. When I opened my mouth to scold him for shoplifting, he plucked a yellow flower from a wooden cart.

The merchant put her hands on her hips. “You need to pay for that!”

“Already did,” Nikolas called as he guided me away. When I glanced over my shoulder, the woman frowned at a coin on the cart’s small counter.

“Helios is just fine,” Nikolas murmured, drawing my attention back to him. When we were a safe distance from the cart, he paused and tucked the flower behind my ear under my hood. He tugged the fabric carefully back into place, his fingers grazing my cheek. “You created him, right?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice husky in my ears.

Nikolas smiled. “That means he’s made of the same stuff as you.” He dropped his hand, but he stayed close, his boots brushing the hem of my skirt. “And you’re made of pretty tough stuff, Ezabell Kasreneth.”

Awareness tingled through me. My throat went dry, and it wasn’t from the dust. Dain joined us, a dubious expression on his face as he gazed at his orange.

“This doesn’t look very filling,” he muttered.