I took in the scene around us. We were in the train station, of all places. Had I known before what I knew then… the whole charade in the dining hall would have been needless. We could have simply opened the door, walked, or climbed up to the vault, and left again. “Svyn’s balls,” I cursed.
Daylight streamed through the trickling waterfall. Four Inquisitors were closing in on us, and another was further back. One came for me, but Marcus moved. I forgot how quick the man was on his feet. The Inquisitor barely had time to turn before Marcus dealt him a heavy blow. The man froze, just standing there. Marcus turned and engaged the other three.
I lifted a dagger, waiting for the one in front of me to move. That’s when the top half of the man slid from his torso, falling to the ground in a wet thwack. Neysa screamed. The legs soon fell, landing on top of the rest.
My eyes flicked back to Marcus. He was managing to keep the three Inquisitors at bay and had cleared some room around him. The Inquisitors were master swordsmen, but Marcus… he was something else. Still, one man on three—it was not an easy fight.
Marcus was focused on defense, and the Inquisitors were biding their time, waiting for an opening. The fifth Inquisitor backed up a ramp to the large metal door I’d noticed when we’d come through the station the first time, and he disappeared through it. He would get reinforcements, of that I was sure.
Marcus lunged at one of the red-robed men, attempting to impale him on his sword. Instead, the air shimmered around him, forming a large dome. A shield of magic, like the one they had used when Neysa had tried to burn the emperor. The men flew through the air. One Inquisitor collided hard with one of the many pillars in the station with a loud crunch.
Marcus looked surprised for a moment but quickly leapt after one of the Inquisitors who was standing to his feet. The man pulled back his sword. I thought he would use the same trick with the shield to throw Marcus back. However, Marcus dodged sideways, bringing his blade up. The man’s arm fell to the ground. It took the Inquisitor a moment to realize, then he started screaming. The screaming stopped when his head fell from his body, rolling past Marcus’s feet.
The last Inquisitor approached and started circling, his blade held out toward Marcus. A shimmering shield extended from the tip. Marcus smacked his sword into it, testing it, but the blade bounced back violently. The man approached, but Marcus had his own shield in place. They circled each other, waiting for a moment to strike. When they came too close to one another, their shields touching, sparks flew out, and both men were pushed back.
Unfortunately time was on the Inquisitor’s side. He just had to hold out until support arrived. As they circled around again, the man’s back turned to me, I considered sneaking up and cutting his throat. But then… the man burst into flame. The flash of light blinded me. The Inquisitor screamed, but his scream did not last long. I looked away and to Neysa, who was lowering her arm. She rested her hands on her knees, catching her breath. Marcus ran past the burning heap to join us.
I sprinted to the door that led to the waterwheel and my escape tunnel, noticing a circle drawn beside in chalk, but froze as I barged through. Rocks had been piled into the channel, and my escape tunnel was no more. They must have done that after catching the three slaves, but the circle drawn in chalk meant it had been clear when Ferran had checked it. I hoped they had gotten away.
“Hells!” I yelled and turned back. Marcus was dancing with another Inquisitor, possibly the one who had run out previously. They dropped their shields and attacked in unison. This man was incredible. He moved with such ease, with such precision, never a wasted action. Even Marcus was outclassed. Back and forth they fought. It ended when Marcus tripped on a rail, hit his elbow on the tracks, and lost his sword.
The Inquisitor stood, towering over Marcus for a long moment. Neysa threw several fireballs his way, but he simply held the tip of his blade in her direction, and never took his eyes off Marcus. Neysa soon wearied, and fought for breath.
The Inquisitor pulled back the hood of his robe. He was the first black Inquisitor I had ever seen, his tattoos lighter than his skin. He sheathed his sword. “You should go now, son.”
He turned and ran from the station, passing through the dripping waterfall.
“Father!” Marcus shouted, and went to run after him.
“Marcus!” I used his true name. I was in no shortage of pain to draw on, but I wasn’t sure if even that could stop the man. It pained me to do it. “Behind you!”
Two legionnaires came into the station from the street entrance. I looked for another escape route and thought to join the Inquisitor, Marcus’s father, but what then? Fight our way out of the city on the streets? That was unlikely to go well.
Marcus engaged the two legionnaires, and after a short but bloody fight, the station was quiet. Only the trickling water could be heard on the far side. The serene moment was at odds with my racing mind. The moment was broken when more legionnaires came in, and then again by a flap of wings. The legionnaires ducked down as a large black bird, a raven, flew close overhead. The bird settled on the lone wagon sitting on the track.
“Get on the wagon,” Neysa shouted, and pulled me toward it. The wagon with Malakai’s rockets still sat where I had last seen it. The legionnaires came at us, but Marcus cut them down with casual ease. That Dark Legion blade was incredible.
We climbed onto the wagon and looked to Neysa. She was crouched next to one of the rockets, examining it. Another commotion had me look up to see a mass of guards and Inquisitors coming out of the large metal door.
“Whatever you have in mind, do it quick,” I said.
Neysa pried open a small panel on the side of the rocket and drew out a string. No, not a string—a fuse. She darted over to the other rocket and did the same, then sat between the two, lit her flame, and dipped the fuses into it. There was a spark that slowly made its way along the fuse. I understood what Neysa had in mind but found myself unsure of how it would pan out.
I glanced back up at the gathering soldiers. The front row took a knee, leveling crossbows.
“Look out,” I shouted.
Neysa looked up and held out a hand as she hummed, forming her shield. More than a dozen bolts came flying our way, and I flinched as the bolts struck the shield. Several would have found their mark. The fuses had burned halfway along their lengths, leaving a black trail on the wagon’s timber.
“You might want to hang on,” Neysa said through gritted teeth. “Tightly.”
Marcus and I complied, gripping onto the metal rungs usually used to secure cargo. Her humming continued as another volley came at us, once more bouncing off the shield. This time they were joined by several magic attacks, launched by the crossbow wielding Inquisitors that had joined the fray.
The soldiers cleared a space and the new empress walked through. The crossbowmen lowered their weapons, not wanting to put their new empress in danger. She continued to walk toward us, her teeth bared. When she was but a dozen steps away, my brain collided with my skull. A blaze of fire streamed from the rockets, and our wagon flew down the tracks. Neysa dropped her shield as she fell, and I reached out with my spare arm and clung onto her.
I looked up to see the empress pull back her sleeve, and place her fingers on her silver tattoos. A large glowing ball of lighting came streaming at us. We were going ridiculously fast, but the ball was closing the distance.
“Look out,” I shouted.
“I’m drained,” Neysa croaked. “I can’t stop it.”
Marcus fumbled at his belt. The ball of lightning was coming ever closer. The thing was large, making the bolts the Inquisitors shot look feeble by comparison. Beyond it, I saw the empress lower her hands, now far in the distance.
Marcus freed his blade and stabbed it toward the ball mere moments before it reached us. The lightning crashed against the dome of the shield, blinding me. The blast rocked the wagon and it lurched, but we stayed on the tracks, much to my relief.
When my vision cleared
, the palace was out of sight and we were flying through Morwynne. People gawked at us as we sped past, and more than one fainted with the shock of it. I supposed in a different situation, I might have found the experience exhilarating.
The sun was low on the horizon. This escapade of ours had taken a full day, if not two. We passed through the imperial capital in remarkable time. I doubted anyone had ever moved as fast as that. My arms ached, but I held on for dear life.
Soon, trees flew past us, and our speed only increased as we went down the incline. I wondered how far we would go and what would stop us. The rockets running out of fuel? Or the end of the track? I sincerely hoped for the former while suspecting the latter.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Barrels of Fun
Our journey from Sagemont to Morwynne had taken the better part of a day, but as Sagemont came into view, the lights of the town below us like the dying embers of a fire, I doubted an hour had passed since we’d left the capital. The rocket-powered wagon would leave even a good horse in its dust, and I reckoned we had a decent lead on our pursuers, perhaps an hour or two to make good our escape.
As we approached Sagemont, the wagon slowed, stuttering every few seconds as the fuel ran out. I was relieved. I would have hated to see how the wagon fared without tracks. Poorly, I thought.
The rockets let out their final breath as we rolled into town, and we rumbled along by gravity alone, slamming to a stop just past the small station. I bit my tongue from the jolt, and Neysa came close to tumbling from the wagon.
Marcus leapt off, landing gracefully. My own descent was clumsy, more appropriately described as rolling off. I winced as I stretched. Pain poked its bony fingers at my ribs, stabbed into the hole in my chest, twisted my muscles into knots, and slammed its fists to the side of my head. I was no stranger to pain, but it ravaged me this day.
Marcus helped Neysa while I looked down the streets of Sagemont. It lay slumbering, barely awake, with only hints that it was still alive. We had been away from Sagemont for just over a week, but it felt like a lifetime. It saddened me that it would be a short visit.
“Where to?” I asked.
“We go back to the tavern, grab some supplies, then get out of here,” Marcus said.
As we made our way up the steps to the Bleeding Wolf, I wondered what we would find. I suspected a crowded tavern, however, I opened the door to just three occupants. The new barman, whose name I could not recall, was cleaning glasses, and Adair and Malakai sat at a table by the window—our table.
The reflection in the mirror behind the bar caught my attention as I walked past, and it scared the shit out of me. I paused a moment to make sure I wasn’t imagining the apparition. Painted dark red in dried blood, some my own and some not, my shirt was torn open, the hole left by the nail was raw, and my nose was crooked thanks to Solas. I feared it would look like Marcus’s when it healed. While my bruises could not be seen through the blood that covered me, I felt them all the same.
I approached the table, and Adair looked concerned. Malakai on the other hand was beaming one of his irritating smiles. “You made it,” Malakai said, and I nodded. “I trust you got what you were searching for?”
I could not help but smile. I had succeeded, though I had barely spared a thought for it. I hadn’t had the time or the energy. Reaching into my satchel, I grabbed the manuscripts Neysa had gathered and dropped them onto the table with a loud thwack. The books were odd. My eyes refused to focus on the characters, and they appeared to shift when I tried to read them. It was exactly how Marcus had described my own book. Malakai merely glanced down at the manuscripts and nodded.
I next reached in and took out the crown. It rolled in a small circle for a moment before clattering to the table. The moment felt underwhelming, but the crown and I had some ways to travel yet. Malakai looked down at my hand and smiled when he saw the ring, nodding.
“Enjoyed the ride back?” Malakai asked. I narrowed my eyes at the man. “Perhaps an invention before its time,” he said.
“Got any ideas on how we can get away?” Marcus asked.
“I do,” Adair said. “There is a shipment of ale going to Qash at first light. They are loading the barrels tonight and casting off in an hour or two. I suggest you find yourself within some empty barrels, at least until you are on your way.”
I looked at Marcus, who nodded. “A good plan,” I said. My muscles, already sore, ached with the thought of being squashed into a barrel like some dried goods. I looked at Malakai, hoping that he would suggest we take one of his magical trips to his house instead, but he remained quiet.
“Well, I suggest you get changed and grab a quick meal,” Adair said. “I will fetch something for you while you get dressed.”
I wished that time afforded me a bath, but I had no such luck. I looked down at my filth, my shirt torn open, and the blood….
I returned a few minutes later and felt like a new man. A tired, beat-up man, but better. It was remarkable what a change of clothes and some time with a wet rag could do. Neysa and Marcus were already seated at the table, wolfing down the bread that Adair had fetched for us. It was delicious, probably the best meal I had ever had, as basic as it was. Though the ale was watered down, it went down a treat. We ate quickly, and too much. My guts hurt and protested at the assault.
“Before you depart,” Adair said, “I wanted to speak to you about the Bleeding Wolf. I hope you don’t mind, but I have taken the liberty of preparing some papers.”
“What papers?” I asked.
“Sale of business papers,” Adair said.
“And who are we selling it to, may I ask? You?”
Adair shook his head. “When you sign, the Bleeding Wolf will be owned by another business. A business by the name of Asad Trading Company.”
“Asad? Never heard of them.”
“Really? That’s funny, you own it,” Adair said with a wicked grin. “Or you will. Look, I thought that your business with the emperor would have unwanted consequences for the Bleeding Wolf. I want to see it continue on. So I created a dozen different businesses, each owning the other. At the very top of this pyramid is Asad.” Adair slid the sheets of paper between Marcus and me, and we peered down at them. I noticed that the documents were backdated.
“Sounds good,” I said, looking at Marcus, who nodded. “Get some ink.”
We signed the agreements, along with a small stack of others, forming and dissolving various business names. More than the dozen that Adair had mentioned. Business concluded, we made our way down to the brewhouse with Adair and Malakai. Adair rolled out two of the largest barrels, stood them upright, and took off the lids. I scowled at the barrels, then went to find the privy. It would be a mess in there if nature called. Marcus followed suit when I returned.
“Change of plan,” Neysa said. “I’m coming with you.”
“What of your plans to study with Malakai?” I asked.
“That can wait. I don’t want to be away from you,” Neysa said, and hugged me tight. Her hair tickled my face, and I ran my fingers through it. By the Gods, I loved the smell of her. “I love you, Saul.”
“And I you,” I said for the first time. She squeezed me tighter, and it hurt, in more ways than just the physical. I did not want her to postpone her own dreams for my sake, as much as I wanted her with me. But I doubted she could be argued with; she was as stubborn as a mule. Besides, I had no idea where our journey would take us. I cared too much for her to let her risk her life without good reason. I thought to use her true name to command her to stay. In the end, though, I could not bring myself to do it, so I took a pin from my sleeve, and caught Malakai’s eye. Malakai nodded. “Neysa… you can’t come with me, not now.”
“What?” Neysa spat. “And you think you can tell me what I can and cannot do?” She pulled back from me, but I kept my arms locked behind her.
“I’m sure Malakai can arrange for us to meet up again soon,” I said. “But for now, go with him. Learn what you can.”
“Saul, I won’t argue with you about this.”
“Nor I with you,” I said, and jabbed the pin into the back of her neck.
“The hell! You son of a whore,” she yelled, pushing me off her. She reached up and pulled the pin out, scowling. “What in the hells did you do!”
“I’m sorry,” I said. She came at me, her small fists connecting with my chest. I was once again surprised at her strength, and to be honest, it hurt a great deal, not helped by my bruises and what I thought was at least one broken rib. Blessedly, the poison soon took its hold of her, and she grew tired, then clung to me, but still landed the occasional blow. I held onto her as she lost consciousness, and gently laid her down.
“You will take her with you?” I asked of Malakai.
“Of course, child,” Malakai said. “Though I doubt she will appreciate this gesture.”
“I suspect she will hate me for it,” I said. I approached one of the barrels and climbed in. I took the new waterskin from my belt, placed it against one side, and sat down with my satchel on my lap.
Marcus arrived and looked down at Neysa on the floor. “It’s under control,” Malakai said. “Get in your barrel.”
“Before I do,” Marcus said. “You should look at this.” He unfastened the Inquisitor’s sword and handed it to Malakai.
Malakai pulled it from the scabbard, and paid particular attention to the mercury pommel. “This is a worry.”
“The process by which they gain the mercury is much more troubling,” I said. “He has been burning his pupils at the academy. I’m assuming the silver tattoos the sorcerers sport have the same origins.”
Malakai nodded. “Solas needs to be stopped.”
“Done,” I said. “I walked in here covered in his blood.”
Malakai looked truly surprised. I had never seen that expression on his face, and it did not suit him. “And his daughter?” Malakai asked.
“Milliandra is pissed off,” I said. “To put it lightly. She will be out for our blood.”
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