I looked out at all of their faces, not memorizing them, because I would return, and I would see everyone again and I would have Rhyan with me when I did.
“I need you here, Dario,” I said. “You’re the only one strong enough. I need you to protect everyone—Rhyan would want that, too, and you know it. We’ll find you when this is over. If you have to run from here, leave a message for where to find you with Cal and Marisol. But if Jules is right, it won’t take long for me to return.”
“I don’t like this,” Dario said.
I snarled, “I don’t really give a fuck. And I have no time. He could be walking out right now. And I need to get there first.” I already had my plan for how to get there. When Rhyan and I had been on top of the temple, I’d spotted ashvan stables not far from here. I would go there first. I’d steal a horse and I’d ride straight to the capital, straight to Rhyan.
Dario’s eyebrows drew together. “You can’t hold back if you do this. Everyone is the enemy. You’ll have to kill. Are you sure you can do that?”
I thought of Brockton. Of his final moments. Of my sword pushing through his belly. And how I wished I’d had more time, that I’d done more. These were the same people. The ones who hurt Jules. The ones hurting my love. And I knew if the roles were reversed, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.
I tightened my belt around my waist, checking that my weapons were exactly where I could reach them. My stave, my dagger, my knife, my sword, my Valalumir stars on the bottoms of my belt straps. And Asherah’s chest plate, which would be crucial when I made my move.
I reached for the doorknob, “I’m going to get him the fuck back. And everyone who stands between me and him will pay. Every last one of them. If they hurt him, and I find them, if they come between us, they’ll wish they’d never been born.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
LYRIANA
After a month of holding back, of pretending I was slow, of forcing myself to remain docile and feign weakness, I was flying through the streets, my boots barely touching the ground as I took each step.
I’d been bitter, hating that I had wasted all of my newfound strength and power in the arena. But now? Now I could feel it crackling through my body, coursing through my bloodstream, alive and powerful. As if all the speed I hadn’t utilized the past few weeks had been saved up to assist me now. I dodged past stunned mages on the street, and a soturion who didn’t recognize me with my hood up. I’d tucked my hair back, lest anyone see the fiery redness I was hiding in the sun.
When I saw the stables, I slowed. They were official stables of the ruling Ka in Cretanya, Ka Zarine. I slid against the wall of buildings behind me, trying to find the best way in. I not only had to steal a horse, but I had to get it to trust me. Rhyan was better at that.
The thought immediately made my heart pang.
But I pushed the thought down. I couldn’t be weak now. Couldn’t hesitate. Every second counted.
The gates to the stables were closed and inside I could make out about three stable hands working. They seemed tobe feeding the ashvan. Two on the end further from me, and one nearly at the entrance.
I drew my hood down, and then considering further, I took my dagger, and sliced off a strip of my cloak, and tied the material around my mouth and nose as a makeshift mask. Then, keeping the dagger in my hand, I stepped into the courtyard, empty unlike last night, and slowly pried open the door. The two handlers on the other end didn’t notice, but the third one, the one closest to me, looked up right away.
He was young, barely a few years older than me with curly hair. His eyes brightened and immediately he said, “Morning. Can I help you?”
I saw the moment it happened, the moment he took in my mask and the blade in my hand and his face fell. His mouth opened to yell, but I was on him in a second, my hand around his mouth and my blade to his neck.
“You make a single sound,” I hissed, “I will slit your throat. I need an ashvan. Now.” I pushed the blade into his skin, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to tell him I was serious. He trembled, his aura actually stinking with his fear. I almost felt bad. But I couldn’t allow myself to think about it. Not until Rhyan was safe. “You are not going to send for help. You’re going to take me to your fastest horse, and I won’t hurt you. Blink once if you understand.”
He blinked.
“Good. You have thirty seconds. Choose wisely. You give me a dud, my associates will know, and you’ll be dead within the hour,” I bluffed.
He blinked again. And I hadn’t even told him to comply that time.
“Good boy,” I said, “Go. Quietly.”
His eyes widened, as if he was unsure what to do, but with a shove from me, he started walking, moving quickly, as best he could with my hand around his mouth, and aknife to his throat. He stopped before a stall housing a moonstone ashvan with a golden mane.
“Fastest?” I asked.
He nodded vigorously.
“Saddle,” I said.
He nodded again, and pointed. She was already saddled up, which meant she was going to be pulled for soturion duty soon. Perfect.
“Take her out,” I ordered, and I removed my hand from his mouth. “One sound from you that’s not coaxing the ashvan to me, and you die.”
