But today, the wall was different.
We stepped onto a service road that ran parallel to the fortification, and I stopped dead.
Hunters. Hundreds of them. Maybe a thousand. They lined the wall in both directions as far as I could see, groups stationed every five feet. But it wasn’t just the number that made my blood run cold.
It was their uniforms.
Grimora hunters wore dark gray with silver trim. These wore every color imaginable. Deep blue with gold accents. Black with crimson threading. Forest green with copper buttons. Brown leather with brass buckles. Each one marking a different region, a different country, a different hunter’s guild from somewhere across the entirety of Fuerlis.
“What the fuck?” I breathed, instinct forcing me to step backward, seeking the comfort of the shadows.
Calder cleared his throat. “He called them all here. The Magistrate summoned hunters from all over. They started arriving two days ago, according to a scorched I talked to behind Chancellery House yesterday. Ships came in at all hours despite the weather. Then more on every tide. They’re not just watching the walls, either. I checked the southern gate last night. Same thing. Every entrance, every exit, completely locked down.”
“Is that why the Magistrate wanted us at the docks?”
“Showing off his control and power is his favorite pastime.”
I watched a hunter in midnight blue march past, his hand resting on the pommel of a blade that looked like it had seen serious use. His face was scarred, weathered by sun and wind and violence. Not a city hunter. Someone who’d spent years in the Ash, hunting the things that lived there.
“How many?” I asked.
“Best guess?” Calder’s voice was grim. “Five thousand. Maybe more. And they’re still coming.”
“But that means... we can’t leave. Even if we found Vitoria, even if we wanted to run?—”
“We’re trapped,” he finished. “All of us. The entire city.”
“Why would he do this? We’re supposed to be finding her.”
“He thinks he’s got her cornered,” Calder said. “Shut down the trains, block the harbor, line the walls with hunters from every guild in Fuerlis. Create a cage so tight nothing canslip through.” He paused, watching another patrol pass. “He’s probably right. Vitoria’s good, but she’s not that good. No one is.”
But something in his tone suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced.
“You think she’s already gone,” I said quietly.
“I think she’s smarter than Tiberius gives her credit for.” Calder turned to look at me, and I saw the conflict in his dark eyes. “I think she saw this coming and made plans. But?—”
“But we can’t know where those plans led,” I finished.
“Correct.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion showing through his usual control. “Even if we wanted to follow her, even if we found a way past five million hunters and whatever traps they’ve set up, we’d have no idea which direction to go. The Ash is vast. Fuerlis is larger. You can disappear out there and never be found. I know. I’ve seen it happen.”
We stood there in the shadows, watching the hunters patrol. Watching the cage tighten around us all.
“We should get back,” Calder said finally. “Before someone notices we’re out here studying their defenses.”
But I couldn’t move yet. Couldn’t stop staring at the wall, at the hunters, at the sheer impossibility of what Tiberius had arranged.
A cage built from steel and magic and the collective force of every hunter’s guild in the world. Built to trap the Phoenix. And the ultimate machine to cut down every witch from here to the Sanctuary and back.
“Syneca.” Calder’s hand found my shoulder. “Come on.”
I let him steer me away, back toward the alleys, back toward Chancellery House and whatever came next. But the image stayed with me. All those hunters. All those uniforms. All that power focused on one goal.
“For what it’s worth,” Calder said as we walked, “I think she made it out. Before all this. Before the walls closed in.”
“You really think so?”
“I think she’s always been three steps ahead of everyone.” His mouth curved slightly, something like pride mixed with regret. “Even us.”
