I note the change in sound of the hooves as we move from cobblestone to wooden bridge, and exhale.I’m on my way, Ronyn.
The wagon draws to a stop.We’re here.
My breath catches as voices rise outside.
“Open the wagons,” a guard demands, his voice gruff. “We need to see what you’re haulin’.”
The driver grumbles, but the sound of boots climbing onto the wagon silences everything else. A torch swings into the air, throwing flickering light across the faces of the women. I shrink deeper into the corner, pulling my hood low, trying to avoid attention.
The guard grins. An invasive grin that makes my skin prickle. “Well, what do we have here?” His gaze sweeps over us, landing on me, but swiftly moves to Tess. “This one’s new. And young. Probably still intact, eh?”
The other guards laugh, as if he’s just told a light joke at the tavern over a pint of ale.Pig.
I stiffen as he steps closer, his boots thudding against the wagon floor. Tess whimpers beside me, and I press my hand gently over her leg—a silent plea to keep quiet.
The torchlight flickers over our hoods, illuminating the edges of our faces. He leans down, close enough that his acrid breath blows a strand of hair out of Tess’s face. My hand moves to hover over my blade out of instinct, and I hold my breath. If he places a single hand on this poor girl, I won’t lose a single moment of sleep over his death.
“Pretty thing,” he murmurs, his voice low and vile. “Bet you’d fetch a good price behind The Barrier. What do you say I test you out first? Break you in, eh?” His hand slides up her thigh—clammy, deliberate—and something inside me snaps.
Before I’ve even registered the decision, I’m moving—blade out, hand steady. His blood is warm as it runs over my fingers, blade embedded in the side of his neck.
It happens so fast, the scream never even forms in his throat. I swiftly sheathe my blade back at my thigh with the din of laughter from the outside guards nothing more than background noise.
No one has seen the blood yet.But they will.
“Oi!” Jagged Scar barks from the front of the wagon. “What’s going on in there?”
The guard stumbles, clutching his throat, eyes wide with shock, so I help him along with a firm boot to the chest.
My eyes meet Tess’s as I urgently whisper, “Stay quiet. Follow my lead. Keep up!”
Her eyes are wide and wet, but she nods. I pull my hood back up, and launch out of the wagon, stumbling and screaming hysterically whilst pointing towards the wagon in horror.
The guards attempt to climb in against the current of screaming women trying to get out, and I use the chaos and clambering to disappear into the market crowd, hoping to every god I’ve never prayed to that Tess has heeded my advice and kept up.
My heart hammers louder than the screams, the chaos battering my thoughts as I force my feet to move.
But I have to move—Ronyn needs me.
I vanish into the shadows. Because tonight, I’m the hunter.
CHAPTER TWO
I move like darkness incarnate.If anyone knows how to go unseen and take what they need, it’s me. A daughter of the slums, raised on deception, swaddled in secrecy.
On this side of The Black Stream—closer to the King’s magic-forged barrier that seals the sky and keeps the Starborn in and the Earthbound out—the only people who move freely are Starborn nobles chasing illicit release, far from the prying eyes of their kin.
I tighten my cloak, hiding the threadbare clothes beneath, grab a discarded bottle off the street floor, and nod for Tess to follow suit. If the streets have taught me anything, it’s this: appearances areeverything. I wrap my arm around her shoulder and start swaying and stumbling, prattling about Stars know what. Tess looks confused and uncertain, but joins in when she sees the guards’ eyes lingering on her a little too long.
I slur my words just enough to make my performance convincing and call to them, “You boys on offer tonight?”
They share a brief look between each other before eye rolling and dismissing me, “Not tonight, love. Move along.”
Only when they pass do I realize I’ve been holding my breath. Ihastily pull Tess into a quiet alcove in The Barrier District’s bustling marketplace. The thin crowd around us dabbles in secret dealings and conversations, but so far, we’ve gone mostly unnoticed.
I knock on the door we rest against, our chests heaving with the intensity of escaping the wagon and evading attention—three sharp knocks in quick succession, followed by two booming knocks spaced three heartbeats apart.
I wait. And wait.And wait.
