By the time she was finished dealing with the unpleasantness of Felar Broman, the sun was only a few hours above the horizon, and Kenneth would be far from Erinna’s tracking capabilities. Foiled once again by her father and her own sense of responsibility.
The crowd had grown steadily around the stage. Erinna’s nose wrinkled in disgust, and her hands clenched into fists. Execution was no form of entertainment, no matter how much a person supposedly deserved it.
Another gong echoed across the square.
Conversation dulled to hushed murmurs while a few mages and acolytes dropped to their knees in prayer. From the corner of her eyes, flashes of blue and black caught Erinna’s attention as academy mages approached the raised platform.
It was time for condemnation.
The bell tolled once more from the Chancellor’s tower.
The two prisoners shambled to the rope, and the crowd jeered as an officer read their crimes. Inez, child of the Unseen Gods, aberrant, diviner, traitor of the Crown. Kane Atwater, pirate, plunderer, killer, and foe.
Slurs and insults crescendoed from the crowd, stifled by another gong from the Chancellor’s tower.
There had only been a few minutes between the two bells. Panic chewed through Erinna’s veins. The guards exchanged worried glances and hurried their preparation, knotted the ropes, and started their approach to the shackled prisoners.
Another toll of the bell. Silence settled across the nation.
The pirate’s gaze scanned the crowd and locked steadily with hers. Erinna’s heart hammered into her throat, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose beneath his stare. The corners of his mouth twitched into a smirk.
The gong rang again, only this time it didn’t stop.
Chapter
Eight
Fire. Screaming. Pain.
Chancellor Iprix Hagan was dead.
A sharp, stinging pain sliced through Erinna’s arm before she could comprehend the chaos that unfolded.
The force of it—the suddenness—brought her to her knees, tears welled in the corners of her eyes, and a ringing in her ears muted the sounds of mayhem. The threat of unconsciousness hazed her vision.
Through her disorientation, Erinna watched a few others fall to the ground around her. Arcanum. She was sure of it.
Battling the agony and mental fog, Erinna turned her attention to her arm. An unnatural five-star constellation inked in midnight decorated her skin. Erinna was not trained in the art of arcanum, but it didn’t take a mage to understand that signs like these always led to eventual misfortune.
Please be a bad dream, she mentally begged and grit her teeth through the sting. The symptoms reeked of arcanum. If it weren’t for the fallen strangers, she would think the academy had finally caught on to her and her father’s sordid operations.
Soon, the pain faded to a dull ache. The screams and clamor of people invaded Erinna’s senses once more. A man shoulderedher and nearly trampled her into the ground in his haste to leave the square. Beside her, a mother and her two children were sprawled unconscious on the cobblestones.
A flash of black on the mother’s arm caught Erinna’s attention. A mark, similar to her own, save for the lack of a fifth star. She moved to the children; each bore the same constellation as their mother.
Fuck, Erinna cursed and pushed herself to her feet. She didn’t know that woman or her children, but they were all caught in the same spellwork. That worried her even more.
What connected her to a total stranger, and what exactly did the mark mean?
The shouts of soldiers and citizens broke through her thoughts. She didn’t have time to wonder what had befallen her and why. Thinking could come later.
Warmth from a raging fire caressed her cheeks, and smoke slithered up her nostrils. The hangman’s platform was on fire. The flames burned so fast, so bright, not even the mages could keep them under control. Erinna scrambled to her feet and blinked away the remaining fog. If she stayed any longer, she’d be as good as dead.
Amidst the confusion, they left the young aberrant crumpled on the platform, paying her no mind as they took off after the pirate or tried to control the crowd.
There it was.
An opportunity.
