Rheya stiffened. “Did you hear that?”
A boot slammed against the front door. Muffled shouts. The sound of steel being drawn.
“Guards.” Madam Cass lurched to her feet, her silks swirling. “I’ll stall them.”
“Madam—”
“Don’t. You think this is my first raid?” She flicked more ash from her cigar. “Out the back. Now.”
The door thudded again. Without another word, we slipped through a curtain.
“Where’s the exit?” Rheya hissed.
“Left,” I muttered, pulse racing.
Madam Cass’s voice drifted toward us. “Gentlemen! Kicking down my door, really? Is that how the Crown treats its tax-paying citizens?”
We pushed open the door into an alleyway. The chill slapped my face as we moved quickly, listening for?—
Voices. Ahead and behind.
“They’re boxing us in,” Rheya breathed.
I scanned our options. Main street—too exposed. Back the way we came—more guards pouring in. We sprinted around the corner.
Three Runecloaks stood there, facing the wrong direction.
“There!” One spun, pointing a gauntleted hand at me.
I yanked Rheya through a gap between buildings so narrow we had to turn sideways. Steel boots crashed against cobblestones, but their armor scraped against the walls, slowing them.
We burst out the other side.
“The storm gate,” I gasped.
Rheya shot me a look like I’d lost my mind. “The one holding the reservoir?”
“The service ledge. Too tight for guards. They can’t follow us.”
I launched myself at a low-hanging balcony. Grabbed the bars. Hauled myself up and rolled onto the roof, breathing hard. Rheya scrambled up beside me. We dashed along the shingles, and my legs burned as I jumped from rooftop to rooftop.
“Down there!”
I pointed to a canal below us.
Rheya vaulted off.
I followed, air rushing past me before I hit the water with a bone-jarring splash. Cold tore through me. I scurried out, gasping. Rheya seized my arm, dragging me to the edge.
“The gate,” she rasped.
The massive iron bars loomed ahead, crusted with ice where the reservoir seeped through.
The gate’s rune flickered like a dying heartbeat.
I threw myself at it, tracing the pattern with tremblingfingers. If I could break this, the water would give us cover and maybe take out a few guards. My sleeves dripped as I tugged at the weave.
A shadow stretched across us.
