Their racing carriage slid through the crackling demarcation of magic, and Honovi bit down on the scream that wanted to wrench itself from his lungs. He lost his grip on the steering wheel, but he never let up pressure on the brake.
Ksenia lunged across the gear shift, getting a hand on the steering wheel. The city map book slid off her lap and into the footwell, but at least it didn’t go flying out of the racing carriage. They skidded to a stop, the racing carriage spinning around until they faced back the way they’d come. Honovi blinked colored spots out of his eyes, all the hair on his head and body standing on end. He lifted his chin off his chest, barely able to hear Ksenia’s voice in his ear.
“Drive!” she snarled.
Honovi got his hands back on the wheel, shook his head hard, and focused on the road. He reversed the racing carriage, blinking away his double vision in time to see a warden magician point their clarion crystal–tipped wand at the cobblestones in the street to destroy the base of the entrapment spell.
Aether hissed like steam out of the fractured spellwork, the glow of magic fading from the spell shapes drawn on the cobblestones. Honovi’s fingertips were numb as he turned the steering wheel to guide the racing carriage back around. The engine made a sound Blaine would tell him it shouldn’t, but the wheels were still turning, and Honovi refused to stop now.
“The map?” he got out through gritted teeth.
Ksenia dragged it out of the footwell and opened it up again, flipping through the pages. She smacked her hand down on the neatly drawn lines, the clarion crystal twitching at the end of the leather cord when Honovi glanced down at it.
“He’s moving. Whoever has him knows we’re coming for him.”
Honovi drew in a deep, centering breath, pressed his foot on the gas pedal, and drove.
Twelve
VANYA
Vanya burned his way to the family wing and left the palace uninhabitable behind him.
It was the only way to get past the revenants.
Historical portraits and artwork, statues that had been around for centuries, the history of the Houses that had held the Imperial throne—all of it went up in starfire if it got them through to the other side.
Vanya told himself he had no choice, that it was the only way to save himself, the people who’d come with him, and those they stumbled across on their way through. They’d passed bodies in rooms being ravaged by revenants, and Vanya had set those same rooms afire. Nothing survived. That was the point.
It was a kindness Vanya knew he would be judged on.
“Keep moving!” Javier shouted.
Vanya kept some of his attention on the starfire burning like a wall behind them, blocking the stairs they’d stumbled down. Severalpraetorialegionnaires were on the landing above—dead or nearly, judging by their ravaged state they’d been in before Vanya had called forth yet more starfire. Everyone was running low on bullets, and close quarters with a backup knife against revenants inevitably got people killed. But thepraetorialegionnaires would not be swayed from their duty to protect the Imperial throne.
Even if it killed them.
Javier stayed by Vanya’s side, always the first around any corner or down any hallway. The captain had run out of bullets well before they reached the private family wing and had fallen back on his wand and magic as a last resort against revenants.
When this is over, I’m promoting him.
Vanya tucked that thought away and focused on their current predicament of outrunning one horde straight into another. He had starfire burning at one end of the hallway and extended his arm in the other direction, calling up more. Flames erupted beyond them, catching the revenants crowded up against the far door in a miniature inferno.
The crowded group of survivors pressed ever closer, seeking safety that wasn’t to be found there in the hall. The air grew hot and dry—thin in a way that made Vanya gasp for breath. He kept the starfire burning for several more seconds, sweat sliding down his face and throat, before banishing all of it. He breathed in deeply, smelling the scorched wood of the walls and floor and everything that had adorned it.
A single light cut through the darkness from the lonepraetorialegionnaire who’d managed to secure a handheld gaslight from one of the dead they’d passed. Ash danced through the beam of light as Javier led the way forward to the closed and locked defensive doors.
Javier touched the knob before jerking his hand back, hissing at the heat of the metal. He shrugged out of his jacket and used it to get a better, safer grip on the knob and twist it, but the door wouldn’t open. Javier looked over his shoulder at Vanya. “Locked.”
“I’ll handle it,” a steady voice called out. “My magic is good with small things.”
Yadvir was a young man who’d not yet reached his majority, heir to a minor House out of Oeiras. Vanya didn’t know where Yadvir’s father was or if the older man was still alive. But his son was a magician who hadn’t lost his wand yet. He stepped closer to Vanya, robes dirty from ash and stained with things none of them liked to think about. His wand was made up entirely out of brass gears and pounded thin plates, the clarion crystal encased in sturdy metal wire to secure it at the tip.
He raised the wand and muttered something low under his breath, the aether flowing through the clarion crystal in a far gentler way than starfire. The doorknob twisted on its own, the unlocking spell moving what was too hot to touch. Javier grunted his thanks before using his foot to push the door open, leaving enough space to defend himself if necessary.
Thepraetorialegionnaire with the handheld gaslight moved forward, shining it into the dark. The door creaked open. Beneath the sound, Vanya heard the scrape of bone on the floor. He opened his mouth to shout a warning, but it was too late, and thepraetorialegionnaire wasn’t quick enough to dodge the revenant that darted through the space.
Javier shoved Vanya back, dragging Yadvir with them. Vanya threw starfire at the revenant whose bony fingers were now buried deep in the dyingpraetorialegionnaire’s body, blood everywhere. Both burst into flames, blocking their way into the family wing. Vanya made a cutting gesture with his hand and put out the flames once he was sure the revenant wouldn’t walk again. Thepraetorialegionnaire was nothing more than a mangled, burned body, flesh charred black and uniform nothing but ash.
