The man shrieked as the three of them darted out the entrance and into the mass of people. There, a different chaos enveloped them. In the bazaar, pyramids of cinnamon and nutmeg, golden saffron and matted heaps of hemp lined the outside of spice shops. Peddlers shook jars of star-shaped anise and dangled garlands of glossy red peppers. In the air, the sounds of themuezzincalling the faithful to prayer suffused the bazaar.
It was a moment of shining perfection—
Until the carpet merchant ran screaming out of his shop.
One of the muse statues tore straight through the tent. The crowd panicked, overturning piles of spices and salt as they ran.
“This way!” said Enrique. “It’s a circle—we can run back to the Tezcat!”
“Or we could hide,” said Eva, wincing as she gripped her leg.
Too late, Enrique remembered the slight limp in her gait. But then the muse statue’s head swiveled to them.
“Afraid not!” said Enrique.
The three of them dove into the streets, nearly tripping over tea-glass stands and knots of old men smoking their water pipes. The tops of tents flashed overhead. Behind them, Enrique could hear the groaning stone steps of the muse statues. He glanced back—there were only four. Their arms stretched out, blank eyes fixedon nothing. Around them, the bazaar had descended into chaos as storefronts started to break. Footfalls rang in his ears, but he kept his eyes on the patches he could see of the road. They just had to make it to the other side, he said to himself over and over.
A collapsed shop front loomed before them. Zofia threw one of her pendants at the pile of debris and wood, and it crackled, hissing into a wall of flames that would—hopefully—slow down the statues. The road curved once more, and Enrique’s heart nearly sagged with relief. It couldn’t be long now until they arrived back at the courtyard—
A soft cry pulled Enrique’s attention. He turned to see Eva struggling. A fractured beam had caught her dress, yanking it to the thigh. Under normal circumstances, Enrique would’ve immediately looked away, but the sight of Eva’s leg stopped him. Thick, raised scars mottled her skin. The muscles of her thigh looked shrunken.
“Don’tlook at me,” she snarled. “Justgo! Leave!”
Zofia turned back around, her gaze going once to Eva and then beyond her to where the tops of the muse statues loomed above the wall of fire. Without hesitating, Zofia ran back to the other girl, ripping her dress from the outpost. Eva let out a ragged breath.
“I can’t keep up,” said Eva. “I have trouble after… after a while.”
Pain twisted her voice at the admission, and Enrique went to her, his hand outstretched.
“Then let us help you,” he said, lowering his eyes.
Eva hesitated for only a moment and then nodded. The heroes in Enrique’s imagination always ran off with maidens in their arms. So he rolled up his sleeves, put one arm around her legs and theother at her waist, hoisted her up—and then immediately put her down.
“I’m weak,” he groaned. “Help. Zofia?”
Zofia shouldered past him. “Put your arm around me.”
Enrique took Eva’s other arm and vowed to mourn his pride later. The three of them hobbled across the curve of the road, staying close beneath the tent awnings that hadn’t been pulled down in the attack. Close behind, the sound of crashing wood caught up to them. The earth quaked, trembling with every stomp of the approaching statues.
Enrique shoved down his panic, focusing instead on the lake as it came into full view. The damp earth fug of still water hit his nose. On the other side of the shore, he could just make out the wooden panels that hid the ancient courtyard and Tezcat entrance from the public. The three of them huddled beneath an abandoned shop tent as silence fell over the market.
“There were nine muses,” said Zofia suddenly.
“What a brilliant observation,” snapped Eva.
“Only four were following us.”
“So—”
With a ripping sound, their tent gave way. Five of the muse statues stood there, holding the ragged tents in their arms as if they were nothing more than scraps of silk plucked off the ground. Instinctively, he moved backwards, but Eva stopped him.
“They’re behind us…”
Cold shadows fell over him. The nine muse statues closed in while not twenty feet away stretched out the lake and, beyond it, the way back to the Sleeping Palace.
“We have to swim,” said Enrique, his heart beating wildly in his chest. “Go now! I’ll distract them.”
“We can’t leave you—” said Zofia.
