Two? Kurtz should have been back by now. I’d like to see if they need help, Cole thought.
Good idea, Achan voiced. I’ll go with you as far as I can. I’d tell you to take some of Lord Livna’s men along, but even though they now know about Thusk, I’d still rather keep your involvement in the Mârad a secret, if I can.
Cole heartily agreed. “Can someone give us a lift back to the Black Boar?” he asked Dunn. “We left our horses in the stables.”
“There really an underground tunnel from here to there?” Dunn asked.
“Just follow the stairs down,” Cole said. “You can’t miss it.”
Dunn dismounted. “Take Quimby’s and my horses,” he said. “Leave them in the stable at the Boar when you trade for yours. We’ll explore that tunnel and get our horses on the other end.”
Cole agreed, and before long, he and Mistel were riding Dunn’s and Quimby’s horses toward the Black Boar. Adrenaline had filled him with energy. He’d defeated Drustan and saved them both from being sold. Yet as they traded the horses for Cherix and Bart and rode toward Cliffwatch, Cole knew that their fight was far from over.
Chapter 43
Mistel
Cole loved her.
The thought glimmered in Mistel’s memory like candlelight on a blade: beautiful and a little terrifying. Her heart hadn’t stopped racing since they’d escaped from that horrible warehouse. Sure, she’d stolen the guard’s keys and would have gotten out of the cage on her own, but what could she have done against Drustan and his sword? If Cole hadn’t come when he did…
But he had come. Her knightling had fought for her. Won for her.
Now, as they walked side by side through the tunnel beneath the frozen ocean, her limbs trembled, not just from the damp cold that had seeped deep into her bones, but from everything that had happened, including the vanishing of that man Cole said was Bahram Rakkel.
Mistel loved adventure, yes. But not the kind that rendered her helpless—she eyed the red stain on Cole’s tunic—not the kind that ended with someone she cared about bleeding, sword in hand, standing between her and a monster.
She tugged her cloak tighter, grateful she still had it, grateful Cole was still with her. “How do runes stop bloodvoicing magic?” she asked, needing something to talk about, to distract her from what they’d just survived. “Shouldn’t Arman’s magic be unstoppable?”
Cole shot her a sideways glance. “Just because Arman created something doesn’t mean people can’t manipulate it. We’re all free to make our own choices.”
The logic of that settled over Mistel like an unbalanced yoke. Before she could respond, a noise rose ahead, soft but distinct—the scuff of boots on stone.
She stiffened. “Turn off the light.”
“But we won’t be able to?—”
Mistel reached toward the lantern in Cole’s hand and turned the damper until the flame snuffed out and plunged them into darkness. Silence stretched around them. She drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders and edged closer to Cole. Perhaps she should have listened to him.
A familiar voice cut through the darkness. “Cole?”
Mistel exhaled a long breath. “Zanna.”
“We’re here!” Cole called.
He found Mistel’s hand and pulled her forward. She disliked moving blindly but trusted his sure steps to lead them safely.
Ahead, a faint stripe of golden light cut through the blackness. A door, cracked open and lit with distant torchlight. The door into Ice Island.
Zanna emerged from the shadows just outside the door. “It was a trap,” she said. “They knew we were coming.”
Mistel’s stomach dropped.
“What happened to Kurtz?” Cole asked. “My father?”
“Captured,” Zanna said. “Verdot plans to sell them both in the morning. They’re in a cell on the ground floor.”
“Then we get them out,” Mistel said.
