Felix grabbed August’s wrist, pulling him back in a protective movement. “I think you have us confused with someone else.”
She hoisted the hatchet casually over her shoulder. “What does he expect me to do? All my caern is already jingling around in his pockets. Who the hells does he think he is?”
A faint tingling danced across August’s fingertips as his eyes darted to Felix.
He seemed eerily calm. Was this normal? Did people walk around swinging hatchets? It certainly didn’t seem normal.
“We should go,” Felix said.
As they took a cautious step back, the woman straightened. Her eyes fixed on August’s, sharp and unyielding, like a predator on its prey.
“Well, I don’t need him. I can do it myself.”
Felix tugged his arm. “Run.”
They bolted, but only made it half a block before she crashed into August from behind. He went down hard, throwing hishands out to catch himself, but the impact still smashed the breath from his lungs. When her weight lifted, he rolled onto his back, gasping.
“I can smell your magic,” she whispered, crouching over him.
He let out a strained cough. “That . . . is areallyodd thing to say.”
She leaned in uncomfortably close, her breath warm against his skin. She studied his eyes as if she meant to pluck them from their sockets. “What are you, little mouse? Shall we find out?”
“Back up.” Felix’s voice echoed off the buildings, and the air rippled around the words.
The woman’s face went slack as her hands fell away, and she settled back on her heels.
With a grunt, August pushed himself up to sitting and looked up at Felix, whose irises were glowing gold.
“Get up and leave.”
The air rippled again, only this time, the order didn’t seem to land. The woman’s gaze swung to Felix with an intensity that made August recoil.
“Oh,” she breathed, an eerie smile splitting her face.
Felix’s eyes widened, a look of pure bewilderment.
He recovered quickly, yanking August off the ground, and they ran, hands clasped as the sound of her pursuing heels clacked behind them.
The twitchy anchored appeared suddenly in the centre of the street. With no time to avoid it, August held his breath, bracing himself. He passed through the figure, the cold like needles over every inch of his skin. The sour taste of decay made his stomach turn.
When they spilled back onto the open edge of the bustling market square, Felix stumbled, his hand slipping free as he tumbled forward.
August quickly dragged him back up.
“Solach,” Felix hissed, yanking up his trouser leg. “Not now!”
The woman crept out from the side street, hatchet swinging in her bony grip like a pendulum. The bouncy melody she’d been singing earlier floated over the sounds of the market.
“Get the Watch!” August shouted to the crowd as Felix fumbled with the straps of his prosthetic.
For a breath, nobody reacted. Then the woman hefted the hatchet to her shoulder. All at once, panic erupted. Screams tore through the crowd as people scattered in every direction.
Nobody was going to help.
“Come on, Felix!”
“Almost got it.”
