Several minutes into their silent navigation, Selene recognized a wrinkled, bald man atop a crate outside a bakery puffing on the same pipe. “We’ve been through here before.”
Petrina rolled her eyes. “Your observation skills still need some work.”
Oskar paused below an overhang. “You see them, too?”
“They’re good, but not that good.”
A shadow moved in Selene’s periphery high above on a nearby rooftop, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. They were being followed.
Careful not to react, she said, “Got one.”
Petrina fiddled with her belt. “Two more keeping pace behind us.”
“They could be the Blades,” she said.
“They’re not,” Oskar said. “Keep moving.”
Selene’s pulse kicked up. The press of her knives against her body wasn’t as comforting as they had been seconds ago.
“We could draw them out,” Petrina suggested.
“Not yet,” Oskar said. “Let them think they have us.”
Selene quickly realized exactly where the Blades were now that she was looking. They kept to the shadows while remaining in close proximity.
Ahead, Oskar ducked around a corner they hadn’t turned down before, then quickly pulled to a stop.
Petrina collided with him, and Selene with her?—
One of the Blades lay in a pool of blood, eyes wide open to the sky, his throat slit deep to the bone. The body lay crumpled beneath a bright blue banner, blood soaking into the cobbles.
From the rooftop above, a man chuckled like he had all the time in the world.
Augustus strode uphill, boots striking the uneven cobblestones with steady, measured steps, a hand resting casually on the hilt of his cutlass. Darian and his mercenaries walked in a staggered formation around him, scanning every nook and cranny.
Cassia, who would never truly be gone, said, “Keep your head up. A man walking to his fate should never look uncertain—it’s the surest way to invite vultures.”
If any vultures existed, they weren’t here. Not yet.
The locals did a poor job of keeping their veneer of normalcy—businesses closed their doors, and carts of goods were rolled into alleyways. Not even the beggar held out his cup for an extra coin.
A slight curve in the road signaled that The Crossroads was near. The way forward widened, and here, pirates and locals stood to watch, spectators for his entrapment. Every few feet, the crowd thickened, and the chatter became cacophonous.
Children sprinted ahead with wide eyes, stopping at the side of variousadults ahead. A pair of women laughed at him from a stoop, drawing the full heat of his glare. They scurried inside after that.
Augustus sighed. There was no need to work himself up. He had armed mercenaries with him and would likely see the Drynopians soon—not that he wanted Roman’s help. He’d sent his friends in different directions, but that didn’t mean they’d leave him to whatever trap lay ahead.
The cobbled road opened further, and Augustus stepped into The Crossroads. A lone musician played a haunting tune on a battered flute near a fountain chipped and stained with moss. Every street spilled people, carts, and chaos into the center. Barrels of ale were rolled in, and cups passed around. Coins exchanged hands with murmured bargains. How many placed their bet against him?
His gaze slid away as he continued forward?—
He’d missed the planks before—they were just outside his periphery. Much like inside theAkias, several weathered boards had been erected on makeshift stands. The bodies had been nailed by their hands overhead and were nothing but dried husks now.
Heart in his throat, Augustus ordered his feet over, the way feeling as if he moved through sludge. The people parted for him, snickering.
There were six in total, and Augustus forced himself to recognize the men, their deaths telling the story of at least two more ships gone from the fleet. Captains Ramón Arboleda and Quintiliano Vasco, along with their lieutenants. Ramón and Quin had been with the fleet the longest—they were among the strongest his father had. What did it say that theAkiaswas gone, and now these two?
Augustus closed his eyes and breathed through his racing heartbeat. Even the weakest among their fleet was strong. This wasn’t the end, and Thorne would bleed endlessly for these deaths.
