“You saved mine,” she replied.
From somewhere beyond the shop came a faint rumbling: a thrumming sound, like footsteps or hoofbeats. Hundreds of them, marching.
Raisa looked up, her eyes fierce through the shine of her tears. “The Imperial Inquisition,” she gritted. “We’d all wondered when they would reach this town. Go, Kolst Pryntsessa.”
“And you,” Ana said, looking at the torn wreckage of Raisa’s shop. Searching for a glimpse of the gold-haired girl who was Yuri’s sister; the snow Affinite who had led them here. “What will you do?”
“We have long prepared for this,” Raisa replied. “I have a wagon that will take the children to safety.Go,Kolst Pryntsessa. It is you they want.”
Ana hesitated. First Shamaïra, now Yuri and his family. She despised this, that she was constantly taking so much without the power to protect. That her very presence put those who were willing to help her in danger. That the only thing she could offer in return was the far-off promise that, once she was Empress, things would be different—by which time thousands of lives might have already been lost.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and she wasn’t even sure to whom she spoke or what she was sorry for.
A gust of sweet, cold wind swept into the shop, stirring the chimes above the door. Linn stood in what remained of the doorway, her black tunic and hair fluttering in the breeze. In just a moon, the girl’s face had thinned, the rings dark beneath her eyes and her chin-length hair ragged. She looked frighteningly frail, but when she moved, Ana recognized the grace and fluid strength of the warrior who was her friend.
“Ana,” Linn said. In three light steps, she closed the gap between them.
Ana took her friend’s hands in her own. “Linn,” she breathed. “How did you find me?”
“The Redcloak base,” Linn replied. “You’d mentioned to me before that it was here, in Goldwater Port.”
A figure stood several steps from them, still as stone, his double swords strapped to his waist. It was the yaeger from Kyrov. The sight of his face brought back painful memories—asmall girl, standing in the middle of a deserted square.You will not hurt her.
“You.”Ana’s Affinity surged with her anger.
“Ana, I can explain,” Linn said quickly. “He is not with them. He saved my life.”
The yaeger was silent throughout their exchange. His face remained cold, as though cut of ice. Only those pale eyes of his flickered, like blue fires. “If you want to live, we need to make for the docks right now,” he said. “The Imperial Patrols’ practice is to seal off all roads by land. Therefore, that leaves us the sea.”
Screams rose from the streets outside, followed by the sound of an explosion. They were running out of time.
Ana made a swift decision. “If you’re lying, I will hurt you in all the ways I’ve wanted to since that day.” She thought she saw something flicker in the yaeger’s eyes, like the smallest wind across a flame. Ana turned to Linn and nodded. “We make for the docks.”
They stumbled out into the streets, into chaos. Raisa’s restaurant was not the only location to have suffered an explosion. All along the winding streets of Goldwater Port, black columns of smoke plumed into the air, and dust blotted out the sunlight. People stumbled through the streets, some disoriented, others crying out. The crowd was already pushing forward, in the direction of the docks.
Fighting against the tide, Ana turned and looked back.
An entire army of Imperial Patrols marched toward them from down the road. Their cloaks glimmered ghostly amid the smoke, a sea of white that stretched far beyond their street. Even as Ana watched, the kapitan at the front—an Inquisitor—raised his hand, shouted something, and brought his arm down sharply.
Behind him, two other Inquisitors raised their fists, which started to glow red.
The crowds began shoving forward in a frenzy, scrambling to get away from the incoming army. Somewhere amid the commotion, Ana heard Linn call her name; the throng of people had pulled them apart.
“Linn!” she shouted, but her voice was drowned out by a high-pitched whistling in the air.
She looked up to see streaks of fire falling from the skies.
Ana dove aside as the fireballs smashed into the streets. She landed on her side, debris showering on the ground all around her. Her wound gave a sharp throb as the stitches stretched, and she sensed blood warming her shirt as she pushed herself into a sitting position. She was in a narrow side alley between two dachas, pressed against a wall with nowhere to go. Dust from the explosion filled the air. She could make out the shapes of people streaming by on the main road, hear the metal of swords somewhere near her.
Pain seared in her back; sweat broke out on her forehead as she wrangled her Affinity to concentrate on her reopened wound and force the blood to clot. Her vision swam in and out of focus, and there was a hollow ringing in her ears.
Through the blinding smoke that swirled in the alleyway, a shadow cut into view.
“There you are,” came a voice, sounding very distant. A shadow fell over her; a pair of hands hauled her up by her elbows. “I’ve been looking for you.”
The world focused, and it took her a moment to piece together what she was seeing.
“Hello, Witch,” said Ramson.
