Lucy winced. “He’s going to lecture us.”
“I know.”
“And sigh a lot.”
“I know.”
“But he’ll do it.”
“I know.”
For a brief moment, both girls smiled with just a flicker of their usual selves in the bitter cold. Lucy squeezed her fingers. “Let’s go meet our doom then. I haven’t even told him I found—”
Her words cut off abruptly, eyes widening as a sound split the night.
Boom.
The ground lurched violently beneath them as a thunderous blast tore through the street. Pressure slammed into Esther’s chest, knocking the breath from her lungs. Stone shattered. Dirt and dust erupted upward, swallowing the gate, the moonlight, and the sky.
Esther coughed violently, stumbling back. “Lucy?”
“I’m here!" The dust muffled Lucy’s voice. "Esther, stay close—don’t breathe too deep—!”
The air crackled, sharp and wrong.
Magic.
A blinding snap of energy tore through the dust.
Zzzrak.
Pain lanced through Esther’s body before she could react. Her legs collapsed beneath her, and her vision blurred into streaks of white and black. She felt Lucy’s hand grasp for hers—but miss.
Another strike. Another jolt.
Zzzrt.
She hit the ground hard, cheek scraping cold stone. Her thoughts scattered. She reached out blindly, fingers trembling, searching for Lucy.
“Est—” Lucy’s voice cut through the haze, frightened, small.
A shadow moved through the dust.
Tall. Deliberate.
The last thing Esther felt was the cold certainty of being watched.
Then the world went black.
38
Nythir
How to start a rescue mission: stab first, hope for the best.
The explosion ripped the world open. The room shuddered violently; the lantern fell, and dust rained from the ceiling. Nythir jolted upright on instinct—then froze.
Esther’s bracelet lay on the pillow beside him.
