“YOU!” I finish for him, taking my knee up into his ribs. The breath leaves him, and I skirt around as quickly as I can before he collapses forward and on top of me. His body flops awkwardly against the mattress, and I urge my feet to move, while he sputters and shouts at my back. Pity for him that I don’t plan on sticking around long enough to find out what it is he’s actually saying.
My barefeet hit the ground in heavy steps, and I’m careful not to trip while winding down the rusted metal staircase. Between the blood roaring in my ears and my fast heartbeat joining it, I’m unable to register anything that’s happening around me, or if Ezra recovered quickly enough to chase after me. Never did I ever think I would be concerned about that…about him.
No matter how many Wieldless trainings we did, nothing could have prepared me for this type of exhaustion, for the weight of the mage shackles clamped around my wrists. I spent my time torturing others or myself; however, I neglected to include training on ifIwere the one imprisoned. I’d never planned on anyone making it past my doors or Vada – nor did I ever think I’d leave Obsidian.
What an oversight that was.
The glint of two metal doors comes into view, and I throw my shoulder into them, spilling out into the bustle of bodies. There are a couple of grunted protests as I collide with those right outside of the inn. Using them as a shield, I take the chance to look back.
I swear I see a head of blonde running across the lobby and decide that’s enough for me to elbow my way deeper into the busy street. Keeping my eyes forward, I try to ignore my skinlighting on fire with each person I clamor into, and push my barefeet faster against the scalding stone.
Blurs of faces pass me, and I say a silent thank you to my parents’ souls for making me short. It’s easier to disappear into a crowd when you’re beneath the average person’s shoulders.
When the number of people starts to thin out, I turn sharply into an alleyway. The road is much narrower here, and the company is more densely packed, forcing my run into a brisk walk as I wind between the different market stands.
The concerned shouts coming from the street behind me drag my attention back, and I see the top of his blonde hair flipping back and forth – frantic.
Don’t hesitate now. He can’t catch you if you don’t stop moving.I try to tell myself. But I can’t help the thought telling me that if he does catch up, I will have exhausted whatever lingering patience he may have had for me.
“Is this you choosing life?” I hear the hushed tones of Orem’s voice as I fumble my way out of the alleyway’s exit.
“No. This is me choosing not die at the hands of Ezra.” I snap, and the head of a merchant looks peculiarly at me, rushing past.
Becausenothingwould be more embarrassing than dying by a man I’ve bested both on the mat and in bed.
The road I spill out onto is sparse, and the desert sun glares off the patchwork metal buildings, making it hard for me to decide which way to go until I notice the smallest sliver of a shadow casting out. “Please be a sanctuary,” I murmur before darting across the street towards it.
That shadow – thankfully – was a sanctuary and ended up being a rusted door. A slightlyopen,rusted door.Thank fuck.
BANG!
I knock my shoulder into it, forcing the dingy metal open further and slamming it quickly behind me. The mage shackles clank loudly, as my hand fumbles along the seam of the door,hoping there’s some kind of lock.“Shit.” I hiss, my finger slicing against a jagged layer.
Pressing the torn skin against my shirt, I drop my head back and exhale a long breath. For at least until I decide to leave this place, Ezra has no fucking clue where I am.No one knows where I am, actually.My conscience reminds me.Both a blessing and a curse.
My eyes scan around the place that I’ve taken temporary refuge in. There’s not much to it – it’s an empty, dark, and dank abandoned warehouse. Essentially, it’s the same as everywhere else we’ve holed up on this journey. Except that this one comes with the stifling hot, stagnant air element.
Would be nice to be a weather Wielder in this situation…My eyes drop down to the very heavy weights on my wrists. It’dbe good to have any Wield at this point.
“How the hell am I going to get these off?” I wonder, combing through the options in my head – I could try hacking them off, but I’d need to find some sort of sharp…thingaround here.
There’s a small stream of light coming in from the arrowslit, and from the corner of my eye I notice something glinting across the room. Hesitantly, I push away from the precariously locked door. My knees threaten to give out as I hobble my way over.
The closer I get, the more I realize it’s a piece of mirrored glass.Well… it’s sharp.I think, holding it up and getting a good, long look at myself in the process. “Wow – I really look like shit,” I murmur, sliding down onto the filth-covered floor.
I’m one hundred percent getting a disease from this place…
I turn over the shard in my palm, and try to wiggle it between the minuscule gap between shackle and wrist. Much to my dismay, I only end up nicking myself. A second hiss passes through my lips, and I glare down at the new cut. “Welcome to the ranks.”
I try not to think too much about what’s going to happen from here on out. Too many possible bad outcomes. “Why don’t you just go to their court. Ask for asylum?” My head lolls to the right, where I find my hallucination of Orem sitting. I’m still not sure that seeing them outside of my dreams is a good sign… that’s got to mean I’m losing some of my functionality, right?
“Suram doesn’t have a court the way we do, Orem.” Axel answers from my left.
“Hmph. Oh-kay… so what do they have?”
Axel clears his throat, stretching out both arms in front of him, “a Consulate. Which, before you ask yes, she could go there.”
“And say what? Hi, I’m the Queen of Obsidian. Please may I go home?” I interject. The two of them give me looks that say, “obviously,” and I snort. “You both realize that thanks to my genius plan of never leaving my kingdom, no one knows what the fuck I look like. Which means no one, not one single person, especially in the Consulate is going to just take my word for it.”
