by Claire Luana
Hale paced the length of the narrow room, eating up the distance with only two long strides. Beckett’s lackeys had locked him inside a servant’s chamber on the lowest level of the Guildhall, as the hall didn’t have any cells. “Because you’re not supposed to arrest your own Guild members,” Hale muttered.
His mind flickered over the events of the last few hours, seeming unable to comprehend all that had happened. Beckett had betrayed them. Callidus had been arrested. At least Sable and Wren were safe. It was a small consolation prize.
But knowing Sable, they wouldn’t be safe for long. Sable wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, especially not from a snake like Beckett. He half-expected the door to be thrown wide, Sable’s face fiercely beautiful in triumph. But hours had passed and no such luck. How long had he been in here—three hours? Four?
Hale reached the end of the tiny room and struck the wall with his fist, letting out a bellow of anger. Pain spiked through his knuckles, and he shook his hand out, examining them. He wished the wall were Beckett’s treasonous face. He sighed, sinking into the lone chair in the room. Why hadn’t Sable taken him up on his idea to run? They all could be long gone from here—him, Sable, Wren, and even Callidus. They could be starting a new adventure, gold in their pockets and opportunity in the air. But instead, things were crumbling around them. The Guild was under assault from inside and outside Maradis’s walls.
Voices sounded outside his door and Hale stood, pressing his ear to the wood, trying to make out what was happening. A lilting female voice sounded…but not Sable’s. He couldn’t quite make out who it was. Followed by a masculine…chuckle.
Hale frowned. Who was it? Hale recoiled as he heard a muffled thunk, pressing back from the door. It swung open to reveal two people he had not expected. Olivia and Lennon, each with matching looks of devilish delight.
“What’s going on?” Hale asked. He peered around them and saw a Guild guard slumped against the floor.
“We’re springing you out of here!” Olivia said breathlessly. “Sable’s arranged it all. We’re supposed to bring you to her.”
Hale grinned. Sable was a miracle. “Bring away.”
They stepped into the hallway over the unconscious guard. “Are we just going to walk out of here?”
Olivia and Lennon exchanged a grin. “We came up with a distraction. Everyone should be fairly preoccupied on the upper floors. Now’s our chance.”
“Do we have time to make one stop? I know a guard who might be on our side.” Hale looked up and down the hall. “He’s just a few doors down.”
“Make it quick,” Lennon said, looking over his shoulder down the empty hallway. At that moment, an orange chicken turned into the hallway, clucking with bewilderment.
Olivia giggled. “Let’s go,” she said, pushing him forwards.
Hale looked back with eyebrows raised. “Something to do with your distraction?”
“I have a friend in the Cuisinier’s Guild,” Lennon said. “There are about twenty more where that one came from roaming the halls.”
Hale laughed and slung his arm around Lennon’s shoulder. “Good man.”
Chapter 29
The plan was simple enough. They had stood around Pike’s table and sketched out what she could remember of the layout of the orphanage and the surrounding streets. The main gates of the orphanage opened into Sealdale Street. Going west, towards the harbor, the street dead-ended into a block of industrial buildings that flanked the harbor. To the east, it joined with Sixth Avenue, which ran the length of the city. They made the calculated risk of assuming that the caravan would turn east. A blockage would be waiting just before the intersection of the two streets, a heavy-ladened wagon with a broken axle and a swearing driver. Rizio was already getting into his role, practicing his most toe-curling curses.
Before the caravan had time to regroup or turn about, Pike’s men would send arrows into the drivers and soldiers from the rooftops lining the street. Lucas, Pike, and Hale, whom Olivia had bravely promised to spring from captivity at the Guildhall, would be hiding in the alleys between the buildings, ready to finish off any remaining men that the arrows didn’t take down. Then it would be Wren and Sable’s job to emerge with knives and free the captives from the carriages, cut the horses free, and escape, all before reinforcements were called. They would regroup at Pike’s house in West Maradis, a fenced compound sitting above lapping waters of Spirit Bay. Easy, Wren thought, sending the word into the universe like a prayer. Little to go wrong. Right?
Lucas pressed Wren’s hands between his, blowing warm air into the pocket of his fingers. Wren snuggled against him, enjoying the ministrations. They were stationed in one of the alleys, waiting for dark to fall. A sliver of the orphanage peeked out from between the tall brick buildings, its ominous form weighing on her. She shivered, turning from it.
“You really hate that place, don’t you?” Lucas said, pulling her into a hug.
She turned her face away from the building, not minding the rough tweed of his jacket scratching against her cheek. “Yes.” The word was muffled.
“Are you ever going to tell me why?”
Wren was silent, lost in thought. She didn’t want to see that pity in his eyes, for him to treat her differently, like something fragile. She wasn’t that little girl anymore, and she didn’t want to relive it, even to let Lucas in, to share the burden of the memory.
“Now, that swagger is unmistakable,” Lucas said dryly.
Wren lifted her face and saw several figures approaching in the darkness, one tall with, Wren had to admit, an unmistakable swagger.
“Hale!” Wren broke out of Lucas’s arms and ran to him, giving him a quick hug. “You’re free!”
“You didn’t think I’d miss this fun, did you, chickadee?”
Wren grinned, her spirits lifting. They would get Thom back, and then Callidus, and everything would be all right.
Behind Hale were Sable, Olivia, and to Wren’s surprise—Lennon.
Hale and Lucas shook hands while Wren gave Sable a quick hug. Sable wasn’t much for physical affection, but right now Wren didn’t care. She was just so glad they were together. She moved on to Olivia, squeezing the girl tightly. “You really did it.”
“Right out from under Beckett’s big nose,” Lennon said with a dark grin, pulling Wren into a hug.
“Wish I could see his face when he realizes he lost Killian’s consolation prize,” Sable remarked.
“We brought four of the Guild guards too,” Hale said. “They’re joining the archers on the roof.”
Lucas nodded his approval.
“Sable filled me in on the plan. Imbris, you, Lennon, and I should join Pike near the intersection. There’s movement inside the orphanage. The carriages are being loaded. It’s happening soon.”
Lucas nodded and pulled Wren into another embrace. “Be safe. Don’t do anything heroic.” He kissed her deeply, tasting of peppermint and possibility.
“You too,” she said breathlessly when he released her.
Hale had taken a similar cue and was thoroughly kissing Sable, leaning her over in a princely bow while she clung to his neck. He pulled her back up, spinning her back onto her feet, where she stood blinking in surprise, her ebony locks falling around her shoulders in disarray. It was one of the few moments Wren had ever seen Sable without her mask of composure. Suddenly, she was just a girl who had been thoroughly disarmed with a kiss.
Olivia’s eyes were wide with delight, and even Lennon had a surprised grin on his face.
“There’s more where that came from,” Hale growled before he turned and stalked back down the alley. Lucas shook his head before motioning to Lennon. “Let’s go.”
Sable was staring at the ground, her fingers to her lips. When she finally came back to herself, she caught Wren’s eyes—caught the pity there.
She straightened, and her mask slammed back into place. “What?”
Wren knew Sable probably wouldn’t want to discuss this in fro
nt of Olivia, but part of her didn’t care. The walls between them were breaking down—it no longer seemed to matter who sponsored whom, or who was servant or Guild member or even grandmaster. There was only who was with them or against them. And Wren was profoundly grateful to have Olivia and Lennon on their side. So she plunged ahead. “You shouldn’t sacrifice Hale’s and your happiness, not even for Thom. For the Guild,” Wren said. “You don’t want to be with Pike.”
“All I’ve been doing the last ten years has been sacrificing myself for this Guild. It’s become second-nature.”
“But Hale…he’ll be heartbroken to learn what you agreed to.”
Sable’s eyes swirled to Olivia, who was standing back, examining the bricks on the wall, trying to act like she wasn’t listening. “He doesn’t have to know.”
“How could he not?”
“You just leave that to me.”
“But what if he finds out?” Wren protested. She didn’t think she could bear to see the light in Hale’s eyes grow dim after he found out that Sable had promised to let Pike court her.
“If he finds out, then we find out whether he really loves me or just desires to possess me. Real love understands sacrifice.”
Wren shook her head, trying to understand. “How can you be so calm? So sure?”
“Wren.” Sable sighed, reaching out and tucking a lock of Wren’s hair back over her shoulder. It was perhaps the most motherly gesture Sable had ever shown her. “I can barely see the two steps in front of me, let alone the whole path. All I can do is walk those steps, and then the next two, and the next two. And hope I end up somewhere worthwhile. That’s all any of us can do.”
A clatter of hooves on cobblestone sounded from the orphanage, startling Wren back to reality.
“Did Hale fill you in on the plan?” Wren asked Olivia.
Olivia nodded. “We stay back until any soldiers are subdued, then we free the hostages.”
“Good girl,” Sable said approvingly. “Let’s go.”
Wren, Sable, and Olivia crept to the alley entrance, careful to stay in the shadows. The first carriage, pulled by two dark horses, was emerging. Wren pulled a knife from her belt. She had a second in her boot. The blade was curved, with an ornamental handle carved with a stalking tiger. It was a pirate’s knife, one Pike had lent her. Lend me your courage, she silently asked the tiger, her stomach flipping.
A third carriage had rolled out of the orphanage gates, then a fourth and a fifth. Four Black Guards on horseback brought up the rear. Wren bit her lip. That was an unwelcome development. Not a minute after the last carriage pulled onto the street did she hear a shout from the front of the line. “Halt!” Neighs, sliding hooves and creaking axles sounded the stop.
Wren held her breath. It was time. For the arrows. Where were they?
Wren looked at Sable, who looked up towards the rooftops. There was no way they could see anything at this angle, even if the sky wasn’t the heavy gray of twilight. Had Pike’s men betrayed them?
But no, a twang sounded, sweet as a bell, taking the first Black Guard in his Adam’s apple. His hands flew to his throat, and he let out a gurgling cry before he toppled off his horse onto the street. His horse cried with alarm, rearing, and the arrows began to fly in earnest.
“We’re under attack!” one of the other Black Guards cried, spurring his horse behind the rear carriage to get some cover. It was too late for the other two—they had already taken arrows, one in the eye, one in the shoulder joint of his armor. Pike’s men were good shots.
“If we free the prisoners,” Wren said, “they can help fight.”
“We go out now, we end up with arrows in our eyes like that man,” Sable said. “We stay put until Pike gives the signal.”
Wren ground her teeth in frustration, realizing Sable was right. She nodded curtly, watching desperately as the scene unfolded. The soldiers were using the carriages as cover, and two with crossbows were now picking off the archers above. They were still heavily pinned down, though, and it seemed their side had the upper hand. She heard cries from the neighboring alley and saw Pike, Hale, and Lucas crash into the fray like gods from above. Well, Hale and Pike like gods from above, swords shining, teeth bared. Lucas more like one well-trained and reasonably-courageous inspector. A wave of fondness crashed over her. Lucas was real. And hers.
The soldiers were falling one by one, and Wren felt her spirits soar. They would do it. The plan was working.
But then the carriage doors swung open, and Black Guards poured out of them. Wren’s eyes widened in shock and despair. So many. Somehow the king must have known of their plan to ambush the caravan.
“Flaming hell,” Sable swore. “It’s a trap.” Three men stepped out of the back carriage, three she recognized. Wren’s vision narrowed to a pinpoint. Killian, clad in black leather armor, pulled two swords out of his sheaths and barreled towards Pike. Then the Black Guard with four fingers and cruel green eyes who had first tried to kidnap Thom. He went for Hale. And Brother Brax, his brown priest’s robes hanging open over trousers and a fine linen shirt, a needle-thin sword in his hand. Brax, who’d sold children to the highest bidder, who’d treated them as no more than animals. Brax, with his silver-tongued lies, who’d used his power and position and influence to perpetrate an evil that no child could ever erase. That she could never erase. Brax, who’d used food and shelter and safety as the bait for his trap.
“Hale—” Sable breathed, and she darted out of the shadow of the alley, knife in hand.
Wren’s feet were moving before she knew what had overcome her, following Sable. But her feet bore her towards Brother Brax.
“Wren!”
She heard Olivia’s voice behind her, the warning and the alarm. But she moved, creeping like the tiger on her knife, stalking her prey.
“Wren! What are you doing?” Olivia hissed, following behind into the open, but her voice was no more than a buzzing fly.
Wren broke into a run.
Brax turned, registering the movement, his brown eyes widening. But he was too late, and Wren crashed into him, bearing him to the ground. His arms went wide, his sword clattering against the stones of the road, and his breath rushed out of him in a wheezing, shuddering whoosh. Blood flecked his lips. He looked down to where Wren had buried her knife in the soft flesh of his stomach.
“Remember me?” she whispered. “I hope you do. Remember me when the Huntress comes for you and pulls you apart piece by piece.” Wren pulled her knife out and buried it to the hilt in the side of his neck. His hot blood gushed over her fingers, and suddenly her stomach turned, roiling at the truth of what she had just done. Gods, she had just killed a man.
“Wren.” Olivia bent above her, her eyes wide, pulling at Wren’s upper arm. “Come on. It’s not safe.”
Wren looked up at Olivia, glassy-eyed, unable to explain the waves of emotion crashing over her. She felt paralyzed, her limbs as heavy as stones. “He’s dead,” she said. The rest of the fighting seemed to play out in slow motion. Lucas fought two Black Guards while Pike grappled with Killian. “Where’s Sable?”
Behind Olivia, Hale was locked in desperate combat with the green-eyed Black Guard, Sable approaching from behind like a silent assassin.
Pike and Killian crashed furiously against each other, their swords crossed in a deadly X, their teeth bared. Pike roared and shoved Killian back, but Killian recovered his footing and, as fast as a viper, slipped within Pike’s guard, burying his sword into Pike’s shoulder.
“No!” Wren cried, horrified to see one of their company fall. But that wasn’t the worst. The four-fingered Black Guard knocked Hale to the ground, and Hale’s sword clattered from his fingers, skidding away across the cobblestones. The man stalked forwards, his blade raised for a killing blow.
Sable pounced, leaping at the Black Guard’s back with her knife poised to kill.
But something went wrong. Whether it was Hale’s widened look of alarm or the Black Guard’s intuition, the man feinted to
the side, and Sable stumbled past him, missing him with her blade. He rounded on her, a look of cold delight on his face, sword in one hand, knife in the other.
“Sable!” Wren screamed as the Black Guard moved towards her, impossibly fast. But it was too late. The man plunged his sword into Sable’s chest.
Chapter 30
The world turned red. A ferocious cry ripped from Hale, forming a twisted melody with Wren’s distant exclamation. Hale hurled himself at the Black Guard as Sable stumbled to the ground, crimson blood blooming over her fingers. Hale’s shoulders connected with the guard’s stomach and they crashed to the street in a tumble of fists and curses.
Hale’s mind was strangely blank, his thoughts narrowed to only a single pinpoint of focus. This man had hurt Sable. This man must die.
And die he did. Whatever the guard’s training and skill, it was no match for Hale’s raw power, fueled by an inferno of rage and fear. Hale twisted the man’s wrist until it broke and the Black Guard dropped his knife with a garbled curse of pain.
Hale seized the weapon and plunged it into the man’s eye socket, then throat, then chest. The guard convulsed beneath him, trying to get his hands up to fend off his attacker, but he was as powerless as a child. He bucked beneath Hale, his death bellows resounding like music in Hale’s ears. Hale stabbed him once more for good measure before the pinpoint of focus shifted. Sable.
Hale turned to find Grand Inquisitor Killian lunging at him, swordpoint first. Hale dodged to the side with a calm that he had never felt before. He shot his feet out and tangled his legs in Killian’s own.
Killian fell to the ground and Hale was upon him in an instant. He grabbed Killian’s sword hand and smashed it on the ground, the weapon skidding uselessly from his fingers. Hale pummeled Killian with his fists, punching the man’s face with ruthless efficiency. His knuckles came away bloody, but still he punched, drops of blood and spit and foam flying in the air. If it hadn’t been for Killian, they wouldn’t have been here tonight, making this desperate play to free their friends. It was Killian who’d arranged to have the prisoners moved, Killian who apparently had set a deadly ambush for them. This man must die.