The carriage came to a stop. Gort got out. Shana nodded to Darotha. She got up and climbed into the street.
Shana leaned toward me. “Last chance to turn around and go home.”
“We must do this.”
“If I say run, you run. No heroics.”
“I promise.”
I wore my clothes from the time we had confronted the Butcher by the Knight Vanquisher statue. I had also brought my dagger with me, but I had no illusions. My best bet to keep my escorts safe was to run away from danger as fast as I could, so they could run away with me. I hadn’t even bothered with the cloak.
Shana got out, and I followed her.
We formed a diamond on the street, Gort in the lead, Will and Lute on my sides, and Shana behind us. The Magnars had their weapons out. The driver stayed with the carriage.
The brothers eyed the night streets like they expected a pack of wolves to charge us. Even Darotha’s face turned grim. She hunched her shoulders, glancing at the dark three-story buildings boxing the street in. If I hadn’t been nervous before, this would have done it.
The carriage driver eyed us. I had a flashback to coming out of the Guard station with my carriage nowhere to be seen. Fighting our way back out of the Tangle would be very difficult. And it would be just like Avaria to leave me stranded.
“Quickly,” Darotha said.
“I need a private moment.” I faced the driver.
Shana and Gort herded Darotha down the street, while Will and Lute flanked me. When the others were half a block away, I turned to the driver.
“I don’t know what Avaria told you, but I’m telling you that Solentine is my cousin. If I come back here and the carriage is gone, I will make it out of the Tangle alive and then I will tell Solentine that you left me here. Do we have an understanding?”
The driver gave me a dark look. “We do.”
“Good.”
I turned and chased Darotha.
The street opened into an oblong plaza. An ancient building rose on our left, a dark five-story ruin peppered with alcoves. Elaborate carvings, smudged by time and the elements, decorated its façade: grotesque monsters twisting, people with contorted faces, strange symbols . . . In the center, colossal stone gates stood slightly cracked, the six-foot gap between them lightless like a bottomless pit.
It felt incredibly dark, ancient, and malignant. A place meant to be timeless that hadn’t endured. It had fallen to ruin, but the power inhabiting it was still there.
Dread settled over me. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck rose.
Evil.
I couldn’t explain how I knew. I felt it all the way in my bones.
“What is this?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
“A temple,” Darotha said.
“To whom?”
“Nobody knows. Many dead are buried here. Walled in.”
This wasn’t in the books either. I was flying blind.
Why was nothing ever simple in this damn city? Was the threat of Damaes and reading this incantation not challenging enough?
“There she is.” Darotha pointed to the bundle of old rags, thrown carelessly on the temple’s steps.
I walked toward it. Will and Lute came with me. Gort moved to the side, watching the temple. Shana hung back, watching Darotha and the street behind us.
