Shadow Caste (The Melderblood Chronicles Book 2), page 24
Her legs ached from running, her arms burned with pain from the impact, and her mind spun. If she’d come to warn the Shadow, why had they knocked her from the roof?
She didn’t have long to wait. Two arms seized her, and a big, grimy hand clapped over her mouth. Wind wisped through her fingers, but stalled out there, like a current hoping for something to hold on to but finding nothing. The tingling effects of the magna still clung to her, and she settled for jabbing her elbows backwards into her captors instead. A grunt told her she’d found purchase, but the grip on her arms only tightened.
Darsh rounded the corner and strode toward Aviama, his hand up, a whirlwind hovering over his palm. The crestbreaker stood behind him, his arm cinched tight around a woman’s slender neck. Sai. Aviama’s breath caught, and she knew the moment she laid eyes on Sai that Darsh saw what he was looking for in Aviama’s face.
Recognition. Fear. Fear for someone who worked for Shiva. All Darsh saw was a traitor to his cause, the face of his movement converted into his worst enemy. Her chest hitched, and even as Darsh’s dark glare bored into her skull, it was the terror in Sai’s wide eyes that weighed down Aviama’s heart like a stone in water.
Like a pebble cast to vote on the death of a Radhan guard.
Where was Chenzira? The thought came and went, but he didn’t appear. The hand over her mouth lifted, but the hold on her arms remained. Aviama glanced at the crestbreaker crushing Sai’s windpipe and turned to Darsh. “Did he tell you? Did he tell you I came to warn you?”
Darsh swirled the little whirlwind in his palm, then hopped it over to the other hand, arching an eyebrow at her as he did so. “Oh, yes. He told me how helpful you’d been. How informative. How you took a tunnel you shouldn’t have known about, escaping the palace at your whim, and led the prince’s rat right to us. Should I be impressed that you predicted soldiers to arrive when it was you who brought them in the first place?”
Aviama’s stomach churned. “No. I came to warn you. I didn’t know she followed me—”
Darsh waved a hand. “I couldn’t care less what words come out of your mouth. If you keep spewing them, I might be tempted to have your tongue cut out.”
She stiffened, and goosebumps fled down her arms. Darsh walked forward again, favoring one leg just slightly. Her gaze drifted down toward his foot, and she raised her eyes back up to his. Darsh wasn’t exceptionally tall, but his broad shoulders, powerful demeanor, and sweltering confidence more than made up for it.
Aviama tested the air again. It sprung to her fingertips at her call, stronger than before, but the energy wilted and died there. She lifted her chin. “If you want to appear as powerful as all your people seem to think you are, you’re going to have to do a better job of hiding your limp. Do you remember how you got it? You were caught and nearly killed. Would have been, if not for me. I was the distraction and the leverage you needed in the arena. Is this how you repay me?”
One of the men holding Aviama shifted his weight. She couldn’t see who it was, but any suggestion that she was getting in his head was encouragement enough.
Darsh’s expression darkened, and he opened his mouth, but just then, four arrows whistled through the air. Aviama dove sideways as the hold on her arms loosened and one of her captors fell. She spun, only to see four soldiers with drawn bows and notched arrows as they let fly with another volley.
Aviama threw her hand up and called the wind as an arrow flew straight at her heart. But nothing happened. Until it did—a wind shield as wide as the alley flew up, dropping the arrows out of thin air. Aviama twisted, and Sai dropped her hand, shaking. The cat was out of the bag. Sai had revealed herself as a melder.
The crestbreaker holding Sai stumbled backward in surprise as three more soldiers sprinted into the other side of the alley, hemming them in on both sides. Darsh blasted two of them backward with a gust of wind, but the third dropped to the ground under the blow and threw a knife into the back of the crestbreaker’s neck. He dropped like a rock.
Sai pitched forward, clutching Aviama by the arm. Tears streamed down her face. “I’m sorry. He’ll kill my family. I’m sorry. But I didn’t think you’d die too.”
“Shiva?”
Sai nodded. Aviama’s lip curled at the mention of his name on her lips, the bullying threat of murder he held over everyone’s heads. Sai was a pawn. What choice did she have? But then again, Aviama couldn’t afford to trust her, either.
Still, she didn’t want to see her dead. And Darsh would gladly kill her, and at this point, just about anyone would gladly kill Aviama too.
A sharp whistle cut through the night, followed by two answering whistles from somewhere further into Waif’s Garden. The scream of a grown man ripped through the air from somewhere nearby. The archers rushed Darsh and the remaining melder in the alley. Three more melders dropped in from the roof, one enveloping a soldier in fire but blowing the fireball beyond its target until the embers caught in the thatch of a residence on the far side. A windcaller threw a blast of air through the alley, breaking the neck of one of the soldiers, but knocking both Darsh and his adversary off their feet to boot.
Uncontrolled. Rash. Dangerous.
Aviama grabbed Sai’s palm and yanked it up in front of them. “Make a bubble. Shield us.”
“I can’t! I don’t know how!”
“Fine, settle for short bursts. Push them back. Push!”
A burst of wind shot forward from Sai’s palm and swept two soldiers and a Shadow melder into the wall on one side, leaving a gap just large enough for Sai and Aviama to run through. Outside the alley, four men streaked by in worn, rough-spun tunics carrying swords, clubs, and daggers. Flames licked at one of the houses two rows down, the smoke rising into the sky, smothering the light of the moon with its billowing haze. The ground rolled unnaturally beneath their feet, sending Sai sprawling, and somewhere the sound of cannon fire added to the chaos.
Darsh’s booming voice called out from behind her. “You don’t have me fooled, Princess! You’re dead! You will not live to see the dawn!
Air coursed along her palms. The magna was wearing off. She wasn’t strong yet, but it was growing. Aviama yanked Sai to her feet and jutted her chin up to the rooftops. “Get us up there.”
Sai shook her head. “I can’t. What if we go too far and crash?”
Six more soldiers rounded the corner. Aviama groaned. “You can do this.”
Aviama might not trust Sai completely, but she knew the girl didn’t want her to die. And Sai had the power Aviama lacked. Sai threw her hands out, and Aviama grabbed them and repositioned them so the girl’s palms faced downward. Aviama held tight to Sai’s waist. “Just get yourself up there, and I’ll come with you.”
Sai nodded, and a gust of air rushed from her hands, lurching them up into the air a meter or so and then dropping them into the dust. The soldiers were only fifteen paces away now. Twelve. Eight.
“Halt! Halt in the name of the king!”
The first of the soldiers reached out to take hold of Aviama, but the ground beneath him opened up, and all six of the soldiers fell into a pit that materialized out of thin air. The house beside them pitched sideways, the wall collapsing into rubble as its foundation crumbled. Dirt flooded in around the soldiers’ legs like a wave, solidifying around them until they were rooted in the earth like trees from the knee down, sticking up at two-thirds of their normal height.
A sharp whistle caught Aviama’s attention, and she whirled to see Chenzira standing on the rooftop next to the collapsed home, looking down at her. An arrow flew toward him, and he blocked it with his axe. “Hurry up! And leave the rat!”
Sai’s face drained of color, but Aviama grabbed her wrist and pulled her along after her. She ran up the rubble, catching herself twice as she stumbled her way up the wood and clay and thatch. Chenzira extended his hand and pulled her onto the sturdy roof of the intact home, then shoved her behind him and held a hand out in Sai’s direction.
“You stay.”
Aviama shook her head. “She comes.”
But Chenzira didn’t bat an eye, and never took his gaze off Sai’s face. “She’ll get you killed.”
Aviama put a hand on his shoulder. “They’ll kill her too.”
Chenzira snatched Sai’s wrist and ushered Aviama ahead of them, away from the soldiers stuck in the ground and the blazing huts in the distance. “We’ll give her a head start, and then we’ll cut her loose. She’s a liability, and we can’t afford for her to know what happens next.”
Her heart twisted at the ominous tone of his voice. “What does happen next?”
Chenzira’s face turned to flint. “I can’t afford for you to know it yet either.”
Three short whistles and one long whistle came from somewhere below them, but Aviama couldn’t see anyone on the dirt path to either side. Her aching feet flew over rickety roof after roof until, on the fifth roof over, Chenzira snatched her elbow to stop her and kicked at a darker-colored area of roof. With a start, she realized it was charred. The area fell through, and Chenzira swept his hand toward it. Aviama peered into the hole, and Arjun and Murin’s ash-covered faces beckoned to her from below.
Murin! Aviama dropped into the hole without hesitation, and Arjun caught her and set her on her feet. Murin took one arm and Arjun took the other, quickly shuffling her away from the hole toward the pitch-black corner.
Murin pulled her into a hug, and Aviama hugged her back, tears pricking her eyes. Her lady-in-waiting for years of her life blinked back tears of her own as they parted. “Darsh is too extreme, and when he turned on you, we knew we were done with him.” She glanced at Arjun, and he nodded.
“I joined him because I thought he could change things, rebel against the monarchy, and remove the dirty name of melderbloods from Radha. He was inspiring. But he’s gone too far, and I didn’t sign up for this. There has to be another way.”
“Arjun has agreed to get me out of Radha and escort me home to Jannemar. We’ll tell everyone what happened. Yesterday, Ramta helped us finalize a last-minute plan, but we’re moving things up and slipping out tonight while the chaos takes over Rajaad.”
Aviama hugged Murin, then turned to Arjun. She paused, then hugged him too. “Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t always trust you. Thank you.” She turned back to Murin, her chest tight, tears welling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. “I love you. I’m so glad you’re with someone like Arjun. Someone with integrity, not to mention skill. I can tell you care about each other. I’m happy for you.”
Murin wiped tears from her eyes, and Arjun nudged her arm. “We have to go.”
Aviama reached out to touch him on the arm. “Thank you. Take care of her.”
He nodded. “I will. Take care of yourself.”
Thump.
Chenzira landed on the floor through the hole in the ceiling and came to clap Arjun on the back. They embraced, parted, and stepped away from each other, Arjun next to Murin, and Chenzira next to Aviama. “Safe travels. Get gone. Don’t forget to talk to my contact at the border.”
He dipped his head. “We will.”
The two of them disappeared through a door on the far side, and Chenzira grabbed Aviama’s hand. “Our turn. Let’s go.”
Aviama didn’t move. “Where’s Sai?”
“She’s safe. Just delayed. I think it’ll take her five minutes to get free, and if you don’t come with me, I’ll toss you over my shoulder. I’m not taking her with us.”
“She’ll die!”
“She’ll be fine. She brought the soldiers to the Shadow’s hideout, and the whole battle and everyone dying is because of her involvement.” He spat on the ground. “She’ll be a hero. Let’s go. We have an appointment.”
35
Chenzira led the way through dark streets, stopping and starting three separate times to avoid squads of soldiers running through Waif’s Garden. Aviama swallowed hard and ran to keep up. Chenzira adjusted his grip on his battleaxe, leaving one hand free and his second axe still fixed on his back. A woman’s scream split the night as two more cannon blasts rocked the air.
Aviama turned to look back, but Chenzira gripped her arm and pulled her forward. “Don’t look back. I need you fixed on what’s ahead, not behind.”
“Are they shooting up their own city?”
“My guess is they’ve stuffed the cannons with konnolan. That way, they can kill the Shadow without destroying the city. If we hadn’t gotten out as quickly as we did, we would have been incapacitated by it.”
“They might still hit this area. We’re just farther from the palace walls than the first blasts.”
Chenzira’s mouth pressed together in a tight line. “Correct. Which is why I need you moving forward.”
Aviama hurried forward, focusing hard on not tripping over her own feet as the dirt path flew by beneath them. “How could we have an appointment if you didn’t know I was coming?”
“Let’s just say I had a feeling you might need a fast getaway and started making arrangements. But we’re going to need them moved up. A lot. To tonight.”
A blur leaped across the narrow path in front of them, a flash of silver interrupting the dark. Chenzira knocked Aviama sideways, spun, and buried his axe in the neck of a Radhan soldier. Aviama gaped at him as the soldier crumpled to the ground. Chenzira gripped the man under the arms and hauled him off the path into the deep shadows of one of the houses, then returned, took Aviama’s hand, and tugged her down the street at a run.
Aviama’s pulse pounded in her ears as her aching legs dragged themselves over more ground, the patchwork shanties of disrepair dropping away behind them as they left Waif’s Garden and entered a district she’d only ever seen from the back of a bahataal in the royal processional with Shiva. The memory sent a shiver down her spine. Forced kisses, fake smiles, threats whispered into her ear as the crowds cheered below…
Could she really be free of it all?
Tall buildings four, five stories high lined one side, not exactly nice but not as disjointed as the slum either. Up ahead, quaint shops cropped up, and cobbles replaced the dust that still clung to her feet and ankles from the run through Waif’s Garden. The streets of the shops were empty, but as Chenzira turned away from the shops and into the aged, overgrown cobbles of the tall buildings and free-standing establishments on the north-west side, figures began to slink from door to door and shadow to shadow.
Aviama pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and pressed closer to Chenzira, his confident stride and secure hold on his battleaxe offering some comfort. A man with a neck twice the size of Aviama’s arm and muscles rippling through every fiber of his shirt eyed them darkly as they passed, his hand on the hilt of the dagger at his side. Aviama gulped, but Chenzira ignored him and passed on toward the third row of tall buildings.
Chenzira slid his axe to its place on his back as the man went by, dropping her hand and guiding her with a hand at her side down the cracked road, past another two buildings, down a side street, moving toward the strip they’d walked through before. He glanced over his shoulder only twice, but Aviama couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.
Raucous laughter emanated from one of the few buildings with lights on inside, a wide establishment nestled in the middle of the stack of buildings, the center door of a row of doors on the first floor of a four-story structure. A signpost marked with a boar with an apple in its mouth swung in the breeze. The door opened, and the smell of cheap ale and cooked meat wafted out into the street, following a cackling man and woman who staggered their way outside. The man counted coins in his hand as the woman rifled through three satchels slung under her arm.
Aviama grimaced. “We’re not going in there, are we?”
“Boar’s Tooth Tavern? You have something against swindlers, drunkards, and gamblers?”
She bit her lip, and Chenzira chuckled. “It’s a seedy place, which makes it perfect for finding seedy people. Tuck that bauble on your forehead up into your hair and pull your shawl down. Stay close to me. I know a guy.”
Aviama pulled the glittering headpiece free from her hair at the front of her scalp and tucked it further back and out of sight under the shawl. “I’m pretty sure the phrase I know a guy generally ends in bad decisions, injury, or death.”
“Luckily, we’ve already made bad decisions by coming here, and our chances of injury and death are already quite high, so we haven’t got much to lose.”
“I didn’t decide to come here.”
Chenzira shrugged. “Guilty by association. Get used to it.”
He opened the door, and the buzz of conversation dulled for a moment as those sober enough to care took in the late-night stragglers. Tables filled the center of the room, and booths with curtains lined the walls. A long bar was staged to the right, with doors leading back to a kitchen and a staircase flanked by two lanterns in the far corner at the back.
Chenzira’s confident stride melted into an unstable swagger as they crossed the threshold. Two women sauntered over from a table in the middle of the room, tight-laced bodices and low-cut necklines inviting looks from the front while the skimpy skirts slit almost to the waist ensured no one need rely on imagination when observing their legs or rear. Aviama tried not to gape, but she froze as the first woman stroked a long finger down Chenzira’s chest, and the other offered a winning smile. Aviama was pretty sure she was offering more than that.
Chenzira threw his arm around Aviama’s shoulders with a smirk and pulled her off balance under his weight as he drifted this way and that, swinging away from the women toward the bar as if he hadn’t even noticed the girls. A strange relief ran through her as they passed without incident, and Chenzira walked into the bar and leaned halfway over it on impact. It was anyone’s guess whether he was going to order or throw up.
The bartender finished wiping out a glass with his rag and set it on the bar in front of Chenzira. “You been betraying me for Jackal Draft again? Haven’t seen you in for a fortnight, save yesterday.”
