Everything’s falling apart,Gentry thought as she watched the pinpricks of witchlights draw closer like some kind of horror movie. Her muscles froze. She hadn’t planned for so much to go wrong, and, from the way her captive witch stared helplessly down through the window, she knew that they were at the end of the road.
They were going to get caught.
“Gen,” Mykel whispered, “you need to go on without me. I’ll distract them.”
Despair didn’t stop her from seeing the holes in that plan and so she caught her friend’s hand to stop her from darting towards the witchlights. “No.” The mages knew that a witch had broken into the facility; they’d just ignore Mykel and focus on Kit. Regardless, there was no way she was letting her friend take the fall for her.
Mykel dragged her into a hug so tight that it threatened to break her ribs. “It’s my curse. Now go break yours.” She then shoved Gentry into Kit’s chest before sprinting towards those witchlights.
Numbly, Gentry waited for the inevitable shouts, for the mages to approach and snuff out her one chance at a normal life. By her estimation, they only had seconds left.
But then she could faintly hear Mykel’s voice, gentle and coaxing, break through that terrible silence. The words were too faint to discern. Then the lights shrank and disappeared as the mages entered the stairwell as if to search the next floor.Impossible,Gentry thought, too dazzled to realize her friend wasn’t coming back.
“We need to go,” the witch said to her. He grabbed her by the elbow and steered her to the broken window. It was just large enough to stand in, the bars bent at awkward angles. She resisted once she caught sight of the ground.
“We need to wait for Mykel,” she said.
“She clearly isn’t coming back,” the witch replied, “but I’m not waiting for those mages either way. You don’t want her sacrifice to be in vain, do you?” His hands shifted to hug her at the waist. “I don’t have enough in the tank to float us down. Sorry.”
Before Gentry could ask him what he was sorry about, Kit shoved her out of the window, or, more aptly, he pressed his weight against her and they both tumbled out into the open air. His death grip on his hip didn’t stop as he rotated them so that he took the brunt of the impact with his longer legs.
Perhaps he used magic to cushion their fall (or he was a freak athlete), because somehow Gentry only gently rolled a few times on the sidewalk before ending up in the parking lot. The star-filled sky greeted her as she stared up, dazed. It’d been a long time since she’d had such an unobstructed view of the sky — she’d forgotten how endless it stretched. She sat up and looked around.
The parking lot was mostly empty save a few cars towards the back. Trees hugged this end of the Mage Corps headquarters, giving them the illusion of privacy if she didn’t spot the ominousglows of witchlights flitting through the windows. It reminded her of their mission to get the hell out of Tunsa.
She hurried to Kit. He was struggling to his feet, his movements jerky and uncoordinated, which deeply contrasted everything she’d seen of him so far. Biting back her distaste, Gentry settled next to him and threw his well-muscled arm over her shoulder. Not saying a word, the witch leaned against her and steered them to the forest’s edge, where the trees offered some reprieve from prying eyes.
“Can we fly?” she asked, releasing him as soon as they were clear of the facility’s windows.
He shook his head. “Not in my current state, and those mages would expect it. Car is a better idea.”
Gentry frowned. She hadn’t anticipated the escape being so… mundane. Now with her fragmented memories returning, she knew her father had never taken her on a broom ride. Ever. A childish part of her had daydreamed leaving the Mage Corps headquarters in the air. She certainly hadn’t expected Mykel to be dragged down with her. But she ignored the sharp pain in her chest at the thought and focused instead on what she could do. “I can hotwire the car,” she offered, a little cheered by the idea of applying a skill she’d learned by reading.
But then an imaginary Mykel sounded off in her head, chiding,Reading isn’t the same as doing, Gentry. You nerd.It was often what her friend would say when she got carried away with her plans.
As she spiraled into despair picturing Mykel questioned by angry mages, Kit said, “So can I. And I’m willing to wager I have more experience than you. C’mon.” He started walking through the tree line, his steps regaining their fluidity with every passing second.
Gentry stumbled after him, managing to break every single twig and branch in her path. She gritted her teeth at herclumsiness. Even before being committed in the Curse Ward, she’d been less than physically gifted. Gym had been her least favorite subject. By the time they reached the edge of the parking lot, where an old-timey, nondescript blue or black car sat, her arms were littered with scratches.
Kit made quick work of the car — undoing its lock with a flick of his wrist before manhandling the dash off. Gentry sat in the passenger, half watching him work the wires and glancing back at the Mage Corps headquarters. The witchlights were now all on the first floor; they were running out of time.
The car roared to life, and Kit inched the tires across the asphalt with the headlights still off. Only when they were on the street and the Mage Corps headquarters tiny in the rearview mirror did he flick them on, illuminating streets which Gentry hadn’t seen in five years. The city looked far dirtier and seedier than the last time she’d been free. Every alleyway’s shadows seemed to shrink and grow with the spinning reds and blues of a police siren, but she decided it must’ve been her imagination after they passed the tenth one and their shitty little stolen car kept trucking through the streets unobstructed.
God, but a lot had gone wrong. She hadn’t anticipated Justin bursting into their room or her having to use one of the Favors so quickly. Hell, only three pieces of paper infusing with magic had been a big letdown. Mykel sacrificing herself made her feel like a colossal piece of shit. It’d never occurred to her that something like that could happen. The plan had been a simple one: capture an assassin witch, bust out, and then figure out a way to break the curse.
Now there was an extra step to the plan — don’t get arrested or murdered.
“Do you think we should, you know, try to switch plates or cars or something?” she asked quietly, no longer content to be alone with her guilt and anxiety.
The witch answered without looking at her, the scar stretching across his handsome face illuminated by the street lights, “Already put an illusion on the plate after we left the parking lot.” He sounded angry.
It was then Gentry noticed he was white-knuckling the steering wheel. A thrill of fear went through her. If she didn’t have two remaining Favors, this guy would probably finish his job and kill her. She wouldn’t stand a chance. God, but her plan seemed so idiotic now, so dependent on luck. She’d been so lucky to not have her neck snapped by the monster beside her. If she made it through this, her mother and sister would be so angry at her.
She wasn’t sure how long they drove until they pulled into a construction parking lot. The city buildings were thinning out, and all that was left was the scatterings of companies that needed more room to operate.
“This is the safe place?” she asked, confused because it didn’t feel like they’d driven nearly enough.
“I can’t drive any further. Pretty soon I’ll be passed out,” Kit answered as he rested his head against his seat. The security lights from a nearby pole barn showed his skin held a sheen of sweat. He looked ill.
