by Sarah Ahiers
“I knew there was something off about you,” Lefevre said. “But I didn’t expect all this.” He waved a limp hand in our direction.
I dropped my hand to my sword.
Gone.
I closed my eyes. I’d left it on the roof when we were knife throwing.
Les tensed beside me. He realized the same thing. All I had was a single stiletto in my boot.
Sloppy. So sloppy.
Rafeo would be so disappointed in me. I’d let Yvain make me soft. I’d let Alessio make me soft. Never in my life had I been caught without my weapons, and here I was, in my leathers, no less, about to reap the consequences. I deserved it.
“That first night,” Lefevre continued, “when you fled from my officers, I thought I’d never see you again, at least, not like this. I recognized you as a clipper, of course, even without the coin you left on that body. But I was always raised to think highly of clippers. You were supposed to be these terrifying agents of a dark god, so when you escaped us, I thought you were gone for good. And yet here you are, standing in the open for anyone to find. And it turns out you are that raggedly dressed girl in the market. I wasn’t sure, you know. I thought you were just covering for the clipper, but you have the mask and everything.”
“What do you want, Lefevre?”
“What do I want?” He tapped his chin with a finger. His men chuckled and grinned. They didn’t realize what they were getting themselves involved in. They probably saw a girl and a boy having a fight in an alley. They were in for a surprise.
“So, my hunches were correct. There’s a bounty on your head, Miss Lea. It turns out the Da Vias in Ravenna lost someone. A Saldana clipper. And they’re willing to pay quite a bit for her return. Lea Saldana has a nice ring to it, by the way.”
I raised my hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know the Da Vias and they won’t pay anything for me.”
Lefevre smirked. “You aren’t a very good liar, Miss Lea. Even hidden behind that mask of yours. And anyway, being a lawman doesn’t pay very well. If the Da Vias are paying, I could use the boost to my finances. And an end to the serial murderer.”
“I told you that isn’t me.”
Lefevre snorted. “Oh please. You can give up the charade now.”
“She’s not lying,” Les said beside me. “I’m the murderer you’ve been looking for. You don’t need her.”
What was he doing? Telling the truth wouldn’t gain him anything. Unless . . . unless he wasn’t trying to get anything out of it.
Lefevre rolled his eyes. “You? Really? You don’t even have a mask.”
“North quarter, ten days ago. Northeast by the lazy canal, four weeks ago. A woman, six weeks ago by Upsand Downs.”
Lefevre’s smirk vanished. “It seems I was mistaken. I can admit when I’m wrong. But I still need the money. You’ll just be an extra bonus for my reputation as a lawman.”
His men moved forward.
“I’m giving you a final chance to walk away,” I said. “This won’t go the way you want. If you walk away now, everything can be forgotten. Otherwise I’ll have to kill you.” I showed him my conviction in my eyes, so he’d understand I could murder him with no more than a flick of my wrist. That his blood across my face would be like the spray of the sea to me, wet and warm and nothing more.
His men paused and glanced to Lefevre. He barked a laugh, his eyebrow raised in disbelief. “Oh, Lea, you ignorant girl. I’m not going to fight you. I’ll be leaving you in the capable hands of my men. After all, the sun’s up and I have work to do and lawbreakers to catch.” He waved his hand, and his men flowed toward us. “Keep her alive,” he commanded as he turned to walk away. “Kill the other one.”
The men charged as Lefevre whistled and left the alley behind. I barely had a moment to yank my stiletto from my boot before they were on us.
Six against two. If it had been me and Val, we could’ve handled it. But it was me and Les—unfinished and unarmed—trapped in a cramped space with no quick escape. I had to keep him safe.
Before the first attacker reached me, I twisted my body and shoved Les farther into the alley. He grunted in surprise and I imagined his anger once he realized my plan, but I didn’t care. When this was over, I’d rather have him alive and angry than injured or dead. The thought of him dead was like a kick to the stomach.
I blinked. When had that changed?
The first man swung at me with a cudgel. I barely managed to block his swing. The blow vibrated up my arm. Pops in my shoulder told me more of my stitches had snapped. I brought my knee into the man’s gut and his breath exploded over me in a whoosh, stinking of liquor and rotting teeth. I shoved him into the man directly behind him. They tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs, tripping up a third man.
Another attacker swiped at me with a knife, aiming for my face. Dumb. Even if I hadn’t managed to dodge his clumsy attempt, my mask would deflect any strokes. I grabbed his arm and pulled it sharply backward. Braced against my left elbow, his joint cracked and snapped. The alley filled with his screams and the sound of his knife clattering to the ground.
Movement over my shoulder. I shifted to the left, blocking Les in the alley, keeping him behind me. His rage-filled eyes shot murder at me from beneath his hood, but I didn’t have time for him.
I smashed the heel of my boot into the throat of another attacker. His neck crunched. He collapsed against a wall, hands clawing at his throat as he struggled for breath he would never find.
They changed tactics then, coming at me together instead of individually. It actually made things easier. They got in one another’s way and I ducked and weaved and stabbed, all while blocking Les, keeping him away from the center of the fight. The alley was so cramped, the fewer clippers in the mix, the better. This way I didn’t have to dodge Les, too.
Blood dripped off my mask and leathers. Its rich scent filled my mouth and nose as I caught my breath. Four of Lefevre’s men lay dead or injured on the ground when the giant finally waded into the fray. He was close to seven feet tall and wide as a cart. Not fat, simply thick with flesh and muscle. The attacker with the fractured arm pressed against the wall as the giant charged, bellowing like an enraged bull.
I stepped back, trying to give myself space, but I bumped against someone.
“Les!” I screamed, pushing against him.
The giant leaned over and rammed his shoulder into me, connecting sharply against my breastbone. If I hadn’t been wearing my leathers, padded to protect me, the bone would have cracked.
He launched me into the air. I flew into Les and we crashed into the wall, Les’s body shielding mine from the stone building. I heard, rather than saw, his head strike the wall. The loud crack bounced around the alley.
We collapsed to the ground.
“Les!” I grabbed his leathers. He didn’t respond, either unconscious or . . .
No! Don’t think it, Lea!
The giant grabbed my shoulders. He yanked me from Les, tossing me like a log onto a fire.
I landed on the body of one of the men I’d killed. Before me lay his cudgel, resting in a pool of thick blood. I snatched it up as the giant bellowed over me.
I rolled and threw the cudgel overhanded. The weapon struck him dead in the forehead.
The snarl across his face vanished as his jaw slackened. He stared at me in utter shock. Then his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell, crashing onto the alley floor.
I struggled to my feet, my body aching and my breath sharp in my chest.
Lefevre’s last man cradled his injured arm against his ribs, whimpering. I faced him, stiletto in hand.
He fled. When he reached the alley entrance, he began screaming for lawmen, shouting about murderers and ghosts and other unintelligible things.
If the lawmen showed, it’d be over. We needed to flee.
I stumbled over the bodies toward Les. I crouched and pushed the hood off his face.
His eyes were closed, but he was b
reathing. I released my own breath, not even aware I’d been holding it. He wasn’t dead. I hadn’t gotten him killed.
“Les.” I tugged on his leathers. “Alessio!”
He moved his head but didn’t wake. I lifted one of his eyelids. He moaned and feebly struggled away from my fingers.
We needed to leave. Now. Any longer and we risked being caught by the lawmen.
I grabbed one of his long arms and draped it over my shoulder. I braced my back against the wall of the alley and stood, pulling Les with me.
He was too heavy. I needed to find the strength to move him. I couldn’t be weak now. I tugged on him and called his name, and he seemed to wake enough to get his feet under him.
We stumbled deeper into the alley to the boarded-up door I’d seen when we’d first dropped into this alley. It didn’t matter where it led. It had to be better than walking the streets in the open.
The board was rotten and old and it took barely any effort to yank it down. Les leaned on me more and more the longer I supported him.
The lock had failed years ago and I pushed the door open, heaving Les with me into the dark and gloom.
Dust coated the air. I coughed heavily behind my mask, and for a moment, I was back in my home in Ravenna and it wasn’t dust in the air but ash, and it wasn’t Alessio I carried but my brother Rafeo, bleeding his life away. A sob escaped me, but I kept us moving through the building as tears blurred my vision and my breath burned my throat.
Les fell and dragged me with him.
“Alessio!” I yelled, but he didn’t respond. He lay on the ground like a dead man. I couldn’t continue to carry him like this. I needed a solution.
I examined the dark, decrepit building. It had been a house once, for a family maybe, with children and laughter and warmth.
Rotted carpets were spread across the floors, large sections torn away to reveal the wood beneath, and black wallpaper peeled off the walls like the rind from an orange. A rickety staircase led to a second floor, but most of the steps were missing, stolen for firewood perhaps.
In a corner, concealed behind a collapsing wall, stood an old cupboard and a pile of blankets. We had to hide and pray the lawmen wouldn’t find us.
I grabbed Les under his arms and dragged him to the cupboard. I pushed him inside and ran to the main hall.
Anyone looking for us would be able to follow the drag marks and footsteps in the dust to the cupboard. I’d have to lay a false trail.
I pushed my weight against the half-collapsed wall in front of the cupboard room. It creaked, then crashed onto the cracked tile of the floor, covering my drag marks. A storm of dust exploded into the air and I coughed. I climbed over the debris and snatched a moldy blanket.
In the hall I used the blanket to fake more drag marks as I headed away from the room and to the other side of the building. I found another boarded-up door and rammed it down. It spilled me into an alley. This one, though, had a canal running along the end of it.
I dragged the blanket after me, creating an extended trail of dust. Then I lobbed the blanket into the canal’s waters.
The abandoned building was easy to scale, even with my shoulder and its fresh pain, and I dashed as fast as possible to the roof to keep my false trail intact.
In the square, a troop of lawmen made their way toward the scene of the fight. I’d run out of time.
I raced across the roof and scurried down into the alley, recklessly jumping the last story. The hard cobblestones jarred my ankles and back. I leaped into the house as the light in the alley dimmed from the lawmen’s entrance.
When I reached Les, still hidden in the cupboard, I climbed in with him, pulling his long legs against me so the cupboard door could close on our tangled bodies.
The air and dust were thick inside. The gods themselves had to hear the beating of my heart as I tried to keep us quiet and still.
Les groaned beside me. I covered his mouth with my hands, the hair on his face sharp against my burned palm.
Shocked shouts drifted in from the alley. The lawmen had found the bodies.
They rushed into the building. I drew Les tight against me and kept my hand over his mouth.
My breath against my mask sounded like bellows pumping in my ears. They’d hear me. They couldn’t not hear me. I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on Les’s warm breath against my hand.
“Look!” a voice came. “Over here!”
Footsteps pounded through the building, and then silence again. I swallowed, my throat like a desert.
More footsteps, casual this time, as if the person strolled along a park instead of an abandoned building.
All my life I’d fought and killed people but had never experienced fear as I did then, hiding in the cupboard, praying we wouldn’t be discovered.
The man whistled. My blood turned to ash. Lefevre.
He knew he was looking for me. Knew I was responsible for the dead men. His dead men.
He paused and hummed to himself, as if he’d found something interesting. He had to be examining the collapsed wall, and if he looked too closely, he would see the cupboard hidden in the dark corner.
I clutched the key around my neck.
The floorboards creaked. Then more footsteps arrived, less frantic this time.
“Couchier found a blanket in the canal,” the new speaker announced. “Looks as if they fled that way.”
“Show me,” Lefevre said. They left the building.
I nearly collapsed with relief. We weren’t safe yet, but they’d bought my ruse.
Alessio groaned again. “Don’t leave me, Lea.” His words were quiet and slow.
I whispered in his ear, pulling him tighter against me, trying to keep him still. If we could hide here until the lawmen had left, we could escape to somewhere safer.
I closed my eyes.
At this point, anywhere would be safer.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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twenty-six
WE HID IN THE CUPBOARD LONG PAST THE TIME WHEN the alley emptied. I didn’t trust that the building wasn’t being watched. I didn’t trust that Lefevre would let this go.
Finally, we had to take our chances. We couldn’t stay hidden in this cramped cupboard. Les kept falling in and out of consciousness. He needed help.
I pushed the door open and tumbled into the dusty room.
My limbs and joints screamed at the sudden freedom. I struggled to my feet, groaning and stretching before I pulled Les out.
He grunted and stirred. “Where are we?” He barely opened his eyes.
“We were hiding.” I crouched and helped him to stand. He hunched over, hands on his knees.
“We have to go now. It’s not safe, Alessio.” I ducked my head beneath his so he had to focus on me. “I need you to help me now. I need you to stay awake.”
He moaned and we trudged through the home, his feet tangling in debris.
We were close to my safe house, only a few blocks away. But I couldn’t convince Les to climb to the roofs, and there was no way I could get him there alone. That left only one place.
We reached the other side of the building. I released Les and left him to lean against a wall while I scouted our path.
A cart vendor selling fish blocked the front of the empty alley. Finally, a bit of luck.
I scurried to the canal and leaned over its waters. A canal boat bobbed calmly, secured to a building on the other side. I gripped the wall and climbed across its crumbling surface to the boat. The boat rocked. I took a moment to capture my balance before untying it from its mooring. I used the long pole to push it to the alley entrance and Les.
He leaned against the wall and sighed, his eyes closed tight. He’d vomited while I’d been away.
“Come.” I guided him out of the house and to the boat.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, and my heart sank. He shouldn’t
have to apologize. This was all my fault. Like everything else.
“It’s all right,” I murmured. I helped him step across the gap. He almost toppled, but I kept my grip on him until he settled in the middle.
“Lie down,” I encouraged him. I covered him with both our cloaks so he looked like a pile of goods or laundry instead of an injured person.
I removed my mask and tucked it carefully beside him. There was nothing I could do to disguise my leathers, but I’d simply have to hope I wouldn’t encounter any lawmen patrolling the canals.
I pushed the boat away from the alley and used the pole to steer it north, the slight current of the canal helping to ease us along as I silently thanked Les for showing me how to use the boat and which canal led to their home.
How had I gotten myself into this mess?
The same way I’d gotten myself into all these messes since the attack. I didn’t stop and think things through. No matter how many times I remembered I wasn’t in Lovero, I kept making mistakes over and over. I trusted people, and it led to more trouble.
I’d trusted that Lefevre was the kind of lawman I’d find in Lovero, but instead he’d proven to be crooked. I’d trusted Les, but he’d gotten me so angry that I’d left my sword behind when I chased after him. And why had I even bothered to chase him in the first place? Because I needed him.
My stomach jumped, and I swallowed.
But it was true. I did need him. He was my only link, now, to Marcello, and Marcello was my only link to the Da Vias. It was nothing more than that.
Everything in my body froze as my thoughts twisted and turned. Les had been understanding, though. He’d seen his mother murdered, had been orphaned like me. He knew how it felt. And he hadn’t cared, when I’d told him about my shame. He hadn’t turned away in disgust and in fact had offered help.
Being around him eased the loneliness that had been threatening to drown me since the night of the fire. I missed Rafeo. I missed everyone. I missed Val and I hated Val and everything just hurt all the time. But Les somehow made that pain fade, at least for a little while.