I had barely registered the pistol when, calm as doldrums under a clear sky, Inis Hae fired.
Benedict staggered.I stepped in front of him and threw out my hands defensively—why, I wasn’t sure, my valiance spawned from shock and stupidity—only to see the woman level her own pistol.I saw the flash of a muzzle, a puff of gunsmoke against a backdrop of ancient stone.
The musket ball punched into my flesh—my thigh, I thought, though the pain was not immediate.The separation I felt from my magic was.Between one breath and the next I felt my winds depart, eddying away in confusion.Dizzy and panicked, I tried to find a note to hum, to wet my lips to whistle.
No music came.No magic pried through that barrier.
“Tane,” I croaked aloud, the word compulsive, unintentional.
Her presence surged, soothing and strong.I had her, at least.
The blonde woman—Enisca Alamay, I supposed—approached.Hae came behind her, blocking Ben and I in the alleyway.I tried to retreat, to at least stand beside Ben as we faced our capture.But my leg would not move.He inched closer, his shadow falling onto the cobblestones beside my sagging one.
I looked back at him, pleading in my eyes.“Do something.”
He dug his fingers into the bleeding hole in his already injured shoulder.Blood gushed, his lips peeled back in a snarl of pain.The image alone was so grotesque, so horrifying, I tasted bile on my tongue.
“Stop,” the blonde woman demanded.It took me a breath to realize she was not speaking to Ben or me but to a dozen soldiers converging upon us.“Stay back.”
“Lay down your arms and come forward,” Hae said, reloading his pistol with efficiency.His expression was controlled, but he tracked Ben’s movements with an eagle’s focus.“Now.”
Ben let out a cracking, whining roar.A lead ball hit the cobblestones and rolled into a divot, languid with blood and sounding far heavier than it should have.
Ben’s power flared, and chaos erupted.Soldiers staggered in, creating a barrier between us and the Mereish mages before attacking them directly.
Hae dodged with preternatural speed—as if he knew where each shot would pass and each hand would grab.Enisca Alamay vanished into the chaos.
Ben grabbed my arm and shoved me forward.“Run!”
I toppled, hitting the stones hard.Pain did come then, so thick and blinding that I retched.
“I can’t,” I panted.It felt like a ridiculous thing to say—of course I could run.It was just a bullet, a little ball of lead.I hadn’tlostmy leg.It was still there, only with a little hole.
I felt Ben’s hand on my arm again.He tried to pull me to my feet and only succeeded in nearly dislocating my shoulder.
“If you escape, find me aboardHart,” he said, then dropped me like spoiled fish.
The next hand that touched me was Enisca’s, gently tilting up my face.Magic came with her searching gaze, calming and settling me and easing my pain.Hae was gone.And where Ben’s shadow had hovered over me, there was nothing but the rising walls and bands of clear blue sky.
“Carry her,” the woman said, casting her voice over her shoulder even as she scrutinized my face.“The rest of you, make haste to support Mr.Hae.Keep me informed.”
***
In the end, I was grateful I had been shot—in a pain-giddy, disconnected kind of way.Instead of being immediately imprisoned or tortured, I was brought right to the very person I had beenseeking: a High Cleric of the Ess Noti.
The downside, of course, was that I had actually been shot and was in a great deal of pain, as Tane’s innate ability to mitigate my wounds seemed stifled by the ensorcelled lead ball.Once the ball was removed from my thigh—a procedure I thankfully passed out for—my magic returned to me in a heady rush, but my jaw was locked in a Stormsinger’s gag.I was now manacled to a narrow cot in a pool of murky sunlight, filtering through high, narrow windows.The place smelled of camphor and lemon and lye, with something chalky and dry behind it.
My restraints ensured that, as Enisca Alamay and the High Cleric conferred, I could not even begin to ask tactful questions or sneak glimpses at notes or assess the rows of books on the walls of the High Cleric’s office, which I could see through an open door.
I realized just how idiotic my hope had been.And as much as I wanted to blame my stupidity on Benedict’s influence, I couldn’t excuse myself.
My desperation to help Samuel had made me a fool.
Tane, thankfully, was listening to Enisca and the Cleric, gathering information that eventually sifted into my bleary mind.
“Please keep the witch here as long as possible.Once she is in the cells, she will be out of my reach.For now, I must speak to Faucher directly,” Enisca said.Her back was to us, and my vision was still unclear, but Tane could see her tension.“Tell him I will be waiting in his office, and summon a page to direct me there.”
Faucher?I grasped at the name.Jessin Faucher was here and was some kind of official?
