“You said your ankle was bothering you.”
I shrug. “Well, it’ll bother me a good deal more if I have to fight four guards barehanded.”
“But—”
“What do you care?” I demand. My heart is pounding, and a whip of wind comes off the water to rush through my hair. The shot of liquor from the tavern has fully hit me now, and this timeIget right in his face. “Maybe I’ll fall and break my neck and all your problems will be solved. You told me to quit stalling. Now it’s your turn.”
I don’t wait for an answer. I step right out into the crowd.
I’m savvy about my path, so I don’t make a beeline right for the building. I head east a bit, lingering, studying storefronts like a casual customer out for a stroll. I think Lochlan has followed me ata distance, but I can’t entirely tell, and I don’t really care. I keep going, zigzagging across the road until I’m a good distance away from the guards, and then I double back.
I go more slowly this time, watching the guards, watching the people, waiting to see if anyone is watchingme. There was a woman who seemed to be lingering suspiciously, but she moved on a few minutes ago, and now I’ve lost her in the crowd. An older man was standing under an awning smoking a pipe, and his eyes met mine at one point, but he’s gone now.
When I near the Harbor Station, I don’t hesitate. I slip right into the shadows alongside the building and stop there.
And then I realize I’ve lost track of Lochlan, too.
It feels like forever since I was last hiding in the darkness, and it’s weird to do it without Tessa beside me. I’d know her emotion without her having to say a word, whether she was feeling brave or frightened, angry or eager. I’d know the pattern of her breathing, the scent of her skin, the meaning of every indrawn breath or frown.
I’d give anything to have her here right now.
Though she would hate everything about this.
The night the rebels first attacked the Royal Sector, they first bombed the Hold. Tessa and I stood in the palace and watched the first explosions. Many of the prisoners were freed that night, but there were two who were too badly burned to make it out, and I remember Consul Sallister demanding that I execute them right then.
I’ll see to it, I said.
Tessa cried out for me to stop, and I didn’t say anything. I didn’t look at her.
I just went and did it.
The captives wouldn’t have survived the night. They were too badly burned, too badly injured. The execution was an act of mercy, really.
But in that moment, I didn’t know that—and neither did she.
I promised her I would be better, and here I am, on a mission to do my worst. I heave a breath of heavy sea air.
Despite everything, I still wish she were at my side. Maybe she could help me figure a way out of this.
No such luck.
I look at the window ledges in the shadows, and I sigh when I realize Lochlan was right. The angle of the moonlight made the ledges look deeper than they are from across the alley, but from here I see that theyaren’tmuch better than excess mortar. Twenty feet above me, the escape ladder is tethered against the wall, so it’s high enough that it’ll hurtspectacularlyif I fall before reaching it. There are three windows below that, but only the one closest to the front flickers with candlelight. I’m hopeful the highest windows aren’t locked, but I’m rarely that lucky. Even so, the streets are crowded, and the sound of the water against the harbor wall is noisy. I can break one of the windows and hope the guards don’t hear.
This is truly a piss-poor plan, but I don’t have many better options. Maybe I shouldn’t want Tessa here right now—because this is genuinely about to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.
I might as well get on with it.
My boots grip the ledges better than I expect, but my fingernails protest almost immediately. I try to ignore the near-constant twinge in my ankle, too. The sounds from the street are muffled back here, leaving my breathing loud enough to echo against the brick wall. I’m not afraid of heights, though, and I’m patient,letting my feet and fingers feel for purchase each time I shift my weight. I make it to the top of the first window and brace there for a moment, feeling a gust of wind come in off the water.
My fingers are screaming at me, but I only allow myself one breath, then force myself to keep climbing. If I stop moving, I’m a sitting duck. A target. If someone comes down this alley, I’m done for.
A memory from childhood comes to me: climbing trees in the orchard with Harristan, branches tugging at my clothes. We were racing to the top. My fingernails were full of tree bark, and I had no hope of beating him—he was a young man of fifteen while I was barely eleven. But he always let me think I had achance, so I was scrambling to keep up when a branch gave way, and I fell.
Harristan caught me. He grabbed me by the arm, and it wrenched so hard that it was sore for a week, but he kept me from a broken ankle—or worse.
I remember his worried eyes, his panicked breathing as he pulled me back onto a sturdier branch. “Always check, Cory.Always.”
I’ve lost track of how many days it’s been since we left Kandala. Since I last saw my brother. Another gust of wind stings my eyes, and I blink away the emotion.
