A woman appeared from the shadows, a black mourning veil shrouding her face. Felix wheeled around and bolted for the exit, but running wasn’t one of his strengths. The woman caught up easily.
Sharp pain flared as she fisted a handful of his hair and wrenched him back. Something struck the back of his legs, and he toppled, crashing onto a wooden cot. The foul smell rose bile in his throat. Her fingers still tangled in his hair, she yanked again, forcing him flat.
“Our party ran dry,” she said, her voice gentle. “But it seems he sent us a gift.”
Felix dropped his empty gun in favor of his dagger, but the woman pounced on top of him, pinning his wrists beneath her knees. Either she was unnaturally strong, or she was using healer magic to weaken him. Thanks to the elixir, no doubt.
A hand, smooth as silk, trailed over his face, cupping it almost affectionately.
With her other hand, she drew a blade.
Felix writhed as she pressed the tip of the knife to his chest, gasping as it bit in.
A blade whistled through the air, followed by a sickening splatter of blood as the woman’s head tumbled from her shoulders, the black veil trailing behind it.
Felix shoved the rest of her body off. It hit the ground beside the cot with a thud. A quick downward glance assured him hewas still in one piece. A shallow cut, nothing more. But the shirt was ruined. He’d have Niall fix it when they got back to the pub.
He sat up, folding forward as his pulse roared. “Thanks.”
Gideon grabbed his hand to help him up. “Don’t thank me yet.”
Felix noticed then the handful of creatures huddled together on the floor, watching from the shadowed corner. Maybe they weren’t far enough gone to turn violent. Maybe their minds were still their own. There was a limit to how much elixir a body could take before it turned like rotting meat. Up to that point, the elixir users were just sad, sickly people desperate for more.
How had these ones ended up here? The door was locked from the outside. It was clear this place was intended for elixir production, but they weren’t wielders. Why would Ashcroft lock them inside?
It was intentional, Felix realized. He’d thought it only moments before: Ashcroft wouldn’t waste an opportunity. The bastard hadn’t only cleared his supplies from this place; he locked these people in here with enough elixirs to push them over the edge.
This was a trap. And he and Gideon walked right into it.
When one of the creatures pushed to its feet, the others followed.
“We need to go,” Felix said, already backing away. He grabbed his pistol from the floor, and they both ran.
It had been far too long since Felix slept. But he couldn’t close his eyes. Not yet. He sat on a bedroll, propped up against the cold stone wall of the cellar. He and Marlow had taken the spots on either side of August, sure that the aesling would escape the first chance he got, and Felix had offered to take first watch.
As the others drifted off and the room quieted, Felix struggled with the storm inside his head.
He’d expected to leave Haverglen with at least a handful of people to help with what was to come. But now, knowing it fell on only the three of them, he had to admit he was worried. Was Gideon right? Was this a hopeless plan? Three against the entire ministry. The City Watch. The bleeding royal guard?
No, Felix wasn’t the type to let someone else tell him what was possible. He would figure this out. It wasn’t like he planned to go head-on with any of them. There were other ways to win this, and he was clever enough to find them.
He yawned and rested his head against the wall.
Just, maybe not tonight. He had time. They had to close the tear first. He couldn’t sit on the throne if the darkness swallowed it first.
He rested his hands in his lap, tracing the frigid metal of the locket with his thumb. The iciness had become a sort of comfort. It helped him reel in his thoughts when they strayed.
Soft footsteps approached, then Gideon eased down onto the floor beside him.
Felix gave him a weary smile. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Rest is hard to come by these days.” The man looked beaten down, the fire extinguished. It was disappointing. “I had a thought,” he continued, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the others. “Once the aesran gets wind her heir’s still breathing, she’ll be desperate to have him back, yeah?”
She would, no doubt. She’d sent the ministry and the royal guard out after him when he went missing for a day. He couldn’t imagine the lengths she’d go to now. He was the only heir. Her only living child.
And if Ashcroft knew the aesling was with them, then the ministry might, too. How long before word made it to the aesran?
Gideon unscrewed the lid of a small flask and lifted in offer to Felix. When he declined, Gideon took a swig, then said, “That opens up a lot of options for us.”
