Lill reached over, taking the diamond from Aina, and performed the healing spell on herself—same diamond, same words. The cut healed over in moments.
“I have never heard of anyone struggle with healing before,” Lill said, her gold eyes wide.
With a twist of guilt, Aina thought of how the magic had affected Ryuu the other day—hurting someone had come easily. Of course the Mothers would make healing difficult for her, she realized with a bitter irony. Her parents had been great healers, and all she did was kill. “I think the issue,” Raurie began, her brow furrowed, “is that you’re just trying to fix the problem. Like a puzzle that needs to be solved. You’re not trying to heal the person.”
“What’s the difference?” Aina muttered under her breath, unable to conceal her disappointment. It wasn’t as if she’d dreamed of becoming an assassin as a child. And now she couldn’t even heal anyone with this magic when she wanted to. It was like the Mothers were making a joke out of her.
When no one had an answer, she shoved aside those bitter feelings and learned two new spells with Raurie, Ryuu, and Lill. The first was the spell Raurie had used to draw up a rock from the ground to stop the burning tree from falling on Aina.
“Shinek inoke,” Raurie said slowly, and waited for them all to repeat it before saying, “It raises the earth. Shinek means ‘to bring up.’ And like the spell to draw blood, you can direct where it goes. I don’t think we’ll be able to practice that one here, but the opposite—the one Verrain used to collapse the factory buildings during the war—is ‘Cayek inoke.’ I think there’s a way for us to try that one—Ryuu, do you mind if we break some things?”
Ryuu smirked. “Go for it.”
For the next hour, they practiced breaking wooden chairs in half—cutting at different angles, making sure their cut was forceful enough to go all the way through—and then putting them back together with the normal spell, “Amman inoke.” Aina was just relieved that all of these spells, unlike healing, worked for her.
After they finished that, the others began practicing the spell to draw blood once more. Aina itched to join, but she didn’t want to end up hurting any of them, so she retreated to a wooden bench next to the rain-speckled window and twirled a small diamond in her fingers, casting rainbows on the wooden bench.
When some time had passed, Ryuu walked over to sit next to Aina on the bench. She tensed a little when he approached, but this time, he offered her a smile instead of a stiff nod.
“You know when I said the Inosen could stay here, the invitation is also open to everyone from the Dom.”
“Thank you, Ryuu,” Aina said, then looked to Tannis, who stood a few feet away and had looked over at those words. “But the tradehouses have never been in Amethyst Hill. We stay in the center of the city no matter what.”
Tannis nodded in agreement. “Your people looked at the Dom today, didn’t they?”
“Early this morning, they did,” Ryuu said.
“They what?” Aina asked.
“After you left the safe house, Ryuu and I talked about it,” Tannis said. “There are so many old manors there. If we get a new one up and running, it’ll show the Dom is much more than a building. He won’t get rid us that easily.”
“We’ll be able to get a new place set up for you really fast,” Ryuu said.
“You didn’t say anything earlier,” Aina said to Tannis, a small spark of hope making her sit up straight.
Tannis shrugged. “Ryuu and I planned it together, so I waited until we met him to tell you.”
“Thank you,” Aina said, flicking her eyes down to the diamond in her hands. When Tannis walked back over to watch the Inosen practice, Aina said to Ryuu, “We’ll be able to pay you—”
“Stop,” he said sharply, holding up a hand. “Don’t even think about it.” Then he sighed, taking the diamond from her fingers and twirling it in the light. “I’m sorry, Aina, about what happened with the magic yesterday.”
“I’m sorry too,” she murmured, holding his gaze for a long moment. “Ryuu, I know there are some things between us that might not ever go away. What I almost did to your brother—what Kohl did to him—”
“You’re not Kohl, though,” he pointed out. “You didn’t kill my brother.”
But I’m working with him again, she thought but didn’t say, pulling her legs up to her chest.
Apart from her other friends, Ryuu was the one who’d also suffered a loss at Kohl’s hands. She cringed, her heart aching at the thought. She was working with the man who’d killed Ryuu’s brother.
Without even consciously thinking about it, she shifted farther away from Ryuu on the bench. Yes, working with Kohl was a ploy to get to Bautix faster … and yes, she would kill Kohl once this was over. But she was still hiding it. She was still talking to Kohl, connecting with him in ways she’d promised herself she never would again—finding more and more ways they were alike.
Silence fell between them for a minute. She stared out at the library—the first place she and Ryuu had met—and noticed, then, that he was also watching Raurie and Lill practice blood magic. Lill yelped as the chair she was practicing on broke in half with a loud creak, and Ryuu laughed a little under his breath, his eyes on Lill the whole time.
Good, Aina thought, sinking back onto the bench. He deserves someone far better than me.
She should be alone. She drew in a deep breath, trying to quell the ache in her heart that opened at the thought. Since she’d started this partnership with Kohl, all she’d done was push away anyone else. A lump built in the back of her throat, and she turned slightly to the side so Ryuu couldn’t tell that anything was wrong. The last time she’d felt this alone, even while surrounded by people, was when Kohl had been her boss.
But all she did was hurt people. She couldn’t even do a healing spell. For someone who was just as terrible as Kohl, being alone was what she deserved.
After another minute of silence, Ryuu reached for something he’d hidden behind his back, then held out the porcelain horse from her mother. It was covered in ash, but remarkably still whole.
She took it from him, her fingers shaking slightly, and cupped it in both her hands—fearing it would fall apart if she wasn’t careful.
“How?” she asked, her voice incredulous. “The fire gutted the whole place.”
“We looked around for things that could be saved. Some shelves and the desk had collapsed in the office, and most of it burned, but this was trapped underneath so much stuff, I guess it escaped the flames. I don’t know how it didn’t shatter, though. It got lucky.”
It’s been a bit of a good luck charm to me over the years, Kohl had said.
“I know it’s hard, losing the Dom like that,” Ryuu said. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost the mines—so many people depend on you to hold it all together. You spend all your time trying to be as strong as they think you are, but you know it’s not enough.”
With a sigh, he stood and walked back to the middle of the library to practice. Aina stared out of the window at the rain-streaked grass. Maybe she should find Kohl now, spend another night in that cabin by the river.
But once Bautix was gone, she and Kohl would face each other, see who would strike first. And although it was inevitable, part of her almost didn’t want to find out.
18
The next morning, barely an hour after dawn, Aina, Teo, Ryuu, Raurie, Tannis, and Lill got off the train at the port. Aina breathed in the fresh air, free of the pollution plaguing Kosín, and stared ahead at the pale blue sea for the first time.
She shook out her legs, which felt stiff after an hour of sitting on the train. She’d attempted to get up and walk around, but the shaking of the train along the tracks made her sit back down each time and wonder why anyone actually liked these things.
They’d almost missed the train to the ports that morning, since Diamond Guards had been enlisted as extra security in an effort to find the assassin who’d killed Gotaro. The Sentinel must have known
it was Bautix, but didn’t want any more support of him rising up in the wake of the attack, and so they played dumb. Rolling her eyes at how useless it was, Aina had led her friends through a side door held open by a bribed janitor, and they’d reached the train just in time.
“I like it out here,” Teo said, breathing in the ocean breeze and letting his eyes close briefly. Aina fought down a smile, but admired how he looked so at ease just by being outside the city.
“I hate it,” Tannis said, wrinkling her nose at the sight of the sea visible from the platform—the sea that separated Sumerand and Kaiyan. “Reminds me of Kaiyan, but smells slightly less like fish.”
“You’re so grumpy in the morning, Tannis,” said Raurie, who’d been spinning her bracelet of small blue and purple stones to catch the light. Tannis frowned at her, but when Raurie shot her a bright smile, her features softened somewhat.
“Well, we won’t be here for long,” Aina said, looking toward the docks and ships ahead. Bautix’s men likely had a covert method of getting the weapons to the train.
They all gathered in a circle on the platform, and Raurie passed small handfuls of diamonds to Aina, Ryuu, and Lill. Closing her hand in a fist, Aina could see flashes of the sun on each of the diamonds through her fingers. If Bautix was bringing in weapons as well as more hired guns from Kaiyan, and having Jackals supervise it all, there was every chance they could be outnumbered today. It was risky to use the magic where the other passengers on the train might see, but part of her didn’t care; she’d make all of Bautix’s men bleed if that was what it took to win.
Ryuu checked his watch and said, “We should get on the opposite platform now. The train back to the city will leave soon.”
“And then we just have to find the weapons, steal as many as we can, destroy the rest, and try not to get killed while doing it,” Lill said with a smirk. “Solid plan.”
They moved to the end of the platform where a rusted red staircase led to the other side and lined up along with the regular passengers. Dozens of people had gathered with their luggage, bleary-eyed and blinking in the sunlight as they waited for the train in front of them to open its doors.
A few minutes later, train attendants unlocked the doors and gestured for passengers to board, helping lift heavier luggage and directing traffic. Aina searched the platform as they did, trying to make out some sign of Kohl through all the bobbing heads, even though she knew he’d be out of sight. Right before boarding, she noted which car was marked on the outside as the dining car—about ten cars up from the one she was entering, closer to the back of the train.
“We only have an hour, so we should split up,” Aina whispered to the group. “We’ll take forever if we don’t. When you want to use your magic, remember to stay out of sight. Let’s meet on the roof of the dining car in thirty minutes to see what we’ve found, all right?”
That had to be enough time to find the weapons and regroup, especially with Kohl’s help. She noticed their skeptical looks but pretended not to. This was the fastest way to get the job done.
They broke off then, and Aina moved farther along the line of cars. Looking over her shoulder, she checked that the others were far enough away, then boarded. Stepping aside from the passengers squeezing past her to reach their seats, Aina stood in a corner of the luggage storage area, one hand on the handle of her scythe. A family took one frantic look at her before hurrying away with their children.
A few minutes later, the train lurched out of the station. A low rumble of voices rose up from the passengers, mingling with the creak of the train’s wheels on the tracks below them.
She moved then, walking fast down the aisle and stepping through the vestibule between cars and into the next one. The countryside flicked by the windows as the train picked up speed—wheat fields, pastures, and a winding mountain spine that curved along the coast and then inland just south of Kosín. She held on to the walls and backs of seats as she traversed the halls. Some cars were private with a glass door separating the narrow hall, while others were public with double rows of seats and a hall in the middle. Every time the train lurched with a turn or the wheels bumped against rocks on the tracks, her heart jumped into her throat. The ride out to the coast—her first time ever on a train—had been frightening too, but at least she’d been seated for the entire trip.
By the time she reached the dining car, her nerves were on edge. That had taken at least ten minutes out of the half hour she had. Catching her reflection in the window on the door of the dining car, Aina quickly fixed her hair into place and forced her features into an unreadable expression. She wouldn’t let Kohl see a bumpy train ride had rattled her.
Kohl stood at the counter, sipping from a drink, as she walked in. Other passengers at the small tables and booths in this car looked up at her and then quickly away once they spotted her weapons. Kohl hadn’t seen her yet, so she watched his profile, taking in the tense set of his shoulders. A tick went off in his lower jaw, which he clenched tightly.
She leaned her weight on the floor, making it creak a few steps behind him, but he didn’t even turn. He always noticed when someone approached him.
In this moment of vulnerability, she watched him, wondering what was going on in his head. Early morning sunlight flicked through the windows, light and shadow over and over. Whenever the light hit, it painted gold on his pale cheeks, lightened his oak-brown hair, and made him seem closer to the man she’d used to hope he could be rather than the monster he was.
The voices of the other people in the dining car filled her ears with a buzzing sound, mixing with the rumble of the train until it felt like it was just the two of them here. After a moment, he peered into his drink and then lifted the cup again, downing it all in one gulp.
As he lowered it, he finally noticed her there and raised his glass as if toasting her. His eyes were bloodshot, like he hadn’t slept at all. Aina narrowed her eyes as she sat on the edge of a stool next to him.
“Are you drunk, Kohl?” she asked. “If so, you’re going to wait right here and not ruin—”
“I know where the cargo is,” he said in a flat tone, placing the glass down. He lifted a face mask over his mouth and nose like he’d used as a disguise when they’d scaled Fayes’s apartment buildings. “Let’s go.”
Together, they walked back through the train at a quicker pace than before. Kohl moved fast without any sign of stumbling or uncertainty. The whole time, though, Aina felt jumpy. There was the rocking train and the creaking of its wheels, and when she looked out of the window to see the train traversed a bridge with a straight drop into the mountain valley below, she wondered why anyone would ever willingly put themselves on this metal death trap.
The train turned sharply then, and she slid into the nearest wall. Kohl had caught himself before falling, and she glared at him from behind. Nothing ever seemed to bother him. Except …
If I told you how scared I was before going in, you wouldn’t believe me. His words about the night of her parents’ murder came back to her, making her stomach twist uneasily. One of the main lessons he’d always told his employees was that guilt didn’t exist for them because they were tools: Blades did what blades did best, Shadows hid, and Foxes thieved. Embracing that was how to survive. He’d taught her how to shut down the guilt instead of letting it poison her, but he hadn’t had anyone to teach him that lesson.
She exhaled sharply in annoyance. He’d probably told her that to make her care for him again. But she wouldn’t let his words lure her in like that anymore.
They’d traversed two more cars and were nearing the end of the train when, beyond the door ahead into the small vestibule between cars, a familiar voice caught her attention.
“Kohl!” she hissed, and when he looked around, she yanked him through the doors of the private compartment just as Raurie and Tannis stepped into the hall.
They landed in a crouch, the door slamming closed behind them, and gasps rose up from the group of Steels gathered in this com
partment.
Reaching for Kohl’s gun, she withdrew it and pointed it toward the room.
“First person who screams gets shot.”
All their mouths closed at once, and they froze where they sat. She didn’t care about them as long as they stayed quiet, so she kept the gun level on them but strained her ears to hear Raurie and Tannis in the hall lining the compartment.
“But if things don’t work out,” Raurie said in a low voice, continuing a conversation they must have been having since the group split up. In her clenched fist, Aina could make out the glint of a diamond. “Then my and Lill’s lies are for nothing. My aunt would have every right to kick me out, never speak to me again, if we put them all in danger and have nothing to show for it.”
Tannis stopped next to her by the window, her brow furrowed as she said, “Well, if that happens—which I don’t think it will—talk to me. I wouldn’t shut you out. I know you’re doing this for the right reasons, and you’re not alone. We all decided to go down this path together.”
“Thank you, Tannis. And you’re not alone either, as much as you think you are. You don’t have to hide what you’re feeling all the time, you know.”
They continued on to the next compartment, while Kohl, who’d been peering over the edge of the window as well, gave Aina a sly smirk and whispered, “So no one knows about us working together. That’s interesting. Are you keeping me a secret, Aina?”
“Shut up, Kohl,” she said, turning the gun on him. There was a collective sigh of relief from the Steels behind them.
She wasn’t really aiming it at him, though. It touched his collarbone, and the silver barrel reflected in the blue of his eyes, lightening them even more. He reached up between them, his fingers trailing her wrist and then resting atop her hand before she passed the handle of the gun back to him. A shiver swept through her, one that reminded her of the times he’d gotten close or touched her before while he was still the boss of the Dom—how she’d always wanted more from him. He kept his eyes on her face the whole time, and she refused to look away or blink. Was he testing her for some reason, as a way to unnerve her?
Shadow City Page 17