Chapter 14

Karys

I didn't see the head hit the ground—I was too busy staring at my sister's smiling face—but I heard the sickening thud as a brief hush swept over the crowd.

Savna winced at the sound, but her smile never faltered.

The longer I stared at her, the more disconnected I became from myself and my surroundings.

I was not here.

That was not my sister.

It could not be my sister.

She was speaking. Lips moving, hands gesturing. Her words didn't register. The crowd responded with enthusiastic cheers to whatever she was saying. I felt my body moving toward the noise like a moth drawn to fire, knowing it would hurt but unable to resist the urge to get closer.

The crowd was too thick to push through, so I located a fenced-off yard nearby and climbed onto the wooden railing. I found my balance, one boot pressed against a thick, splintering post, just in time to get a clear view of my sister lifting her sword for another strike.

The blade gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight, its edge splattered with surprisingly little blood. Her first strike must have been clean and quick, aided by her inhuman strength. All elves possessed it; my sister had always been one to train to the point of obsession, trying to make herself even stronger.

She twisted the blade with the flourish of a performer, continuing to smile at the crowd. That smile looked just as I remembered it. Warm, confident, unyielding. The same expression, the same face I'd pictured for years while trying to fall asleep. Thinking of her used to chase away the nightmarish things pressing in.

Now, she was the nightmare.

But that was not her, and I was not myself, and I was not here, not here, not here…

The blade sliced forward only to leap back before touching skin. A practice swing. Another swing, faster this time—

"Savna! No! DON'T!"

I hadn't meant to shout it, or even say it out loud.

She heard me, I think—enough that she flinched—but I don't know if she saw me or truly recognized me.

I never found out.

In the next instant, a hand was on my leg, startling me and causing my balance to sway. I pitched backwards, someone grabbing me and yanking me further off balance.

I was dragged from the fence and far away from the restless and noisy crowd. Slammed against the side of a tall grey building. My breath left me in a violent whoosh. My vision twisted and flickered.

"How dare you speak her true name," came a growling voice. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

I blinked, trying to fight through the dizziness. A furious elven man came into focus, his face mere inches from mine. He wore a jacket with a symbol sewn into its collar—an upside-down triangle with a sun around its lowest point. More regalia adorned his sleeves. His skin was lined with scars, his breath sour, his eyes a deep brown flecked with red that made me think of dried blood.

I fumbled for a response to his question. It hadn't occurred to me that Godwalker was more than just a nickname for my sister—that maybe it was an entirely new identity she'd taken on to help hide her until she was ready for…

For what ?

What the hell was she doing?

When I couldn't manage a reply quickly enough, Blood Eyes shifted one of his hands from my arm to my neck, pushing me harder against the wall, choking tightly enough to make our surroundings spin.

A second solider emerged from the churning scenery, a dagger drawn and ready in his hand.

I fought the urge to cough and sputter, trying to remain calm and take small, consistent breaths. But these breaths weren't enough; my vision started to dim. My body slumped. I forced my eyes to stay open, even as my surroundings spun; the sickening churning was better than surrendering to the darkness.

"Gentlemen," came a familiar voice.

Andrel .

The spinning slowed for an instant, then got worse as he drew nearer and continued to speak.

"What is going on here?"

The grip on my throat loosened the tiniest bit as Blood Eyes glanced over his shoulder.

I managed a somewhat normal breath. Black dots still danced in my vision, threatening to take over, but I focused on the color in between them.

"Clearly she is a guest in our city, unaware of our customs." Andrel's gaze darted to the hand on my throat. "And that is no way to treat a guest."

The second soldier lowered his dagger, but Blood Eyes kept a secure hold on me until Andrel spoke again, a hint of warning in his otherwise casual tone.

"Stand down," he ordered.

Reluctantly, my captor released me. Both soldiers took a step back as Andrel moved in, though they remained uncomfortably close—one on either side—giving me no real space to make a run for it.

Andrel regarded me with a cocked head and a cold smile. "I should have known I'd bump into you again. You had a troublesome air about you."

I had no reason to believe he knew my true identity, but I didn't like the way he was looking me up and down as though trying to place it.

I kept silent, motionless, fighting the urge to claw his eyes out as they took me in. I hadn't forgotten what was at stake, and I'd already messed up enough for one mission.

"Who are you— really —and how is it that you know the Godwalker's true name?" he asked. "She's gone to great lengths to keep that identity a secret from all except the highest-ranking soldiers and leaders among us."

So the ones who'd grabbed me were not merely common, overzealous guards; they were potentially both as powerful and dangerous as Andrel.

Just perfect.

"Well?" Andrel prompted.

"I…I knew her when she was younger." It was perilously close to the truth, but what else could I say?

I kept my gaze on his as though I had nothing to hide.

He stared back, silent for several moments past the point of uncomfortable, but all he said in the end was, "Interesting."

I held in a relieved sigh.

He had a short sword hanging from his hip—one that hadn't been there earlier. His fingers absently tapped the jeweled handle, but he didn't draw the weapon. He didn't have to; I was already breaking out in a cold sweat at the mere sight of it, images from our last meeting playing rapidly through my mind. The rocks against my back. The river roaring nearby. The glint of the blade as it stabbed toward my heart…

Pain spasmed through my chest.

I willed myself to continue taking small, consistent breaths.

I could still slip away from this city without causing a real scene. I just had to survive Andrel's questioning, his cold scrutiny. I'd managed that for years when we lived together; why should now be any different? If anything, I was stronger now. I was not the same person he'd nearly killed weeks ago. Not the same one he'd used and abused for so long. I could handle this.

"You know, every elf I've ever met from the Calan region had very specific markings under their left ear." He tapped his own slender ear for emphasis before dragging his finger downward. "Three dots that ran down here." He reached and gently pushed the hair from my neck, revealing the unmarked skin underneath. "I couldn't help but notice that you don't . I started to ask you about it earlier, before we were so unfortunately interrupted."

"You clearly haven't met many from my region," I said, with as much haughtiness and confidence as I could muster. "Or else you would know that most of my kind abandoned that tradition a generation ago."

"Is that so?"

"It was an old homage to the old gods who have abandoned us," I said, "and we have little allegiance to those Creators now. So why should we continue to honor them?"

This seemed to please him. I knew it would. It didn't matter if it was true or not; he just wanted to hear more voices speaking ill of the gods.

His hand fell away from my ear, only to brush against the side of my face. It lingered there as if he was feeling for something else—for scars, I feared.

No.

My disguise was still intact. He couldn't possibly have realized there were marks hiding beneath Mairu's magic.

Marks he could likely map better than anybody. I cringed at the thought. Our history was a stain I couldn't seem to get out, no matter how hard I scrubbed.

He finally drew his hand back. Yet something about the way he continued to study me made my insides feel like they were turning to liquid. I subtly shifted my stance, bracing a hand against the wall behind me.

"It's clear we have a lot to learn from one another." His gaze shifted between the restless crowd at his back and the two soldiers who were helping to corner me. "Escort her to my office," he told them.

Panic bloomed in chest, crowding against my lungs and making it hard to breathe. I couldn't risk meeting anywhere private with him again—or being stuck in this city long enough for my disguise to wear off.

"Make sure she's comfortable," Andrel said. "I'll be in to finish our meeting once everything settles down out here."

"You aren't taking me anywhere," I snapped.

"We'll see," Blood Eyes replied, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward.

Reflex snapped my hand forward, wrapping it around his forearm as he reached for me. He tried and failed to break out of my grip. The spell Zachar had laid over me had suppressed my magic, but it had done little to dull my divine strength.

I pushed my enemy away with relative ease, shoving hard enough that he stumbled back against Andrel.

Andrel threw him forward in a rage and Blood Eyes did his best to right himself, lunging for me.

I easily sidestepped his uncoordinated attempt to grab hold of my arm again. I twisted fully out of his reach and turned to run—

Only to be cut off by the second, sword-wielding soldier.

Sword Soldier lifted his weapon toward my throat once more, trying to threaten me back against the wall. Back into submission.

I parried the blade with my bare fist—a desperate move to knock it away from more vulnerable parts of me. It sliced through my skin, leaving a gash across my knuckles and spraying the ground with my blood.

My balance swayed, my vision momentarily blurred from the pain.

He tried to pin me with his fist, this time, snatching for the collar of my shirt. I clumsily ducked his reach and darted forward, sweeping a low kick toward his ankles as I went. He leapt, avoiding the brunt of the blow, but I still managed to catch part of his foot and knock him off balance.

While he staggered and caught himself against the building behind him, I ran, refusing to look back.

The commotion I'd caused had pulled some of the crowd away from my sister and toward me; I could feel their stares. But I couldn't think about them now—and I couldn't risk meeting my sister's eyes by looking back. She would only slow me down.

I had to get out of this place while I still could.

Footsteps pursued me.

Andrel's voice rose even louder than the building roar of the crowd: " STOP HER! "

The path in front of me was suddenly blocked, dozens of bodies converging onto it—soldiers who'd sprung into action from seemingly nowhere at all.

I spotted a narrow side street that remained unblocked and veered toward it. It turned out to be littered with trash and debris, each object I had to knock aside slowing my pace a little more.

Andrel didn't follow me.

But as I careened around a corner, I found him already waiting for me on the other side.

I stumbled away from him, only to hear more soldiers closing in from behind.

I had nowhere to go.

Blood continued to pour from the gash on my hand. My pain became panic that rolled into fear before igniting into fury. I closed my eyes to try and ground myself, and I instantly had a vision of fire—of great wings of flame unfurling and wrapping around me. I felt myself sinking into their embrace, my own power fluttering as they did, rising up until…

Gasps sounded all around me.

I opened my eyes and immediately realized my mistake: There were little fires everywhere. Bits of trash had ignited, as had leaves and patches of grass. Embers swirled and sparked through the air.

It was a weak display, dampened by the Death magic spell, but it was obviously magic, and equally obvious that I had summoned it. Smoke trailed from my skin. Heat flooded the space around my body, intense enough to make the air ripple.

I couldn't move right away, frozen with horror at myself for losing control.

Andrel snapped out of his shock faster than I did; I couldn't maneuver quickly enough to avoid his hand.

He snatched my arm in a bone-crushing grip and roughly shoved my sleeve up. He was searching my skin for a divine mark, maybe—a sign of magical ability usually only found on humans.

I held my breath until I saw for myself that both the marks Mairu and Zachar had branded onto my skin were no longer visible. Even as another wave of heat surged through me—a combination of both my own rage and Dravyn's, I thought—nothing appeared.

They'd been there at the beginning of this; were the spells wearing thin?

Andrel continued to scrutinize my skin. I must have made frustratingly little sense to him, but even if he didn't realize who or what I truly was, he clearly suspected I was at least connected to the divine more than any elf should have been.

His grip didn't let up, fingers digging in so tightly I wondered if he was attempting to break the bones in my wrist for a second time.

"Let go of me," I hissed.

"Not until you explain who the hell you really are . "

I kneed him in the stomach instead.

My strength and speed seemed to catch him off guard. I didn't land as hard of a blow as I wanted to, but it was enough to knock him back and loosen his grip on me. I wrenched my arm the rest of the way free, biting back a cry as the violent twisting motion sent pain stabbing up my arm.

He shook off my attack and dove for me again.

I swung my throbbing arm forward, slamming my palm upwards into his nose. It was cathartic, the feel of that nose crumpling under my furious strength, and the blood that gushed out and rained over me.

But as much as I wanted to stay and break every bone in his face—to make him truly pay for the things he'd done—I knew when the odds were against me. And those odds were getting worse by the second, with more and more soldiers drawing closer and threatening to intervene.

I saw an opening behind him, and while he was busy wiping the blood from his face, I moved.

I sprinted past him, racing toward the gate I'd entered the city through. I changed direction before I reached that gate, though, heading instead for a small road I'd noted on my way in. It led to what looked to be an older, smaller entry point with a much less impressive wall stretching out around it. I made my way to a partially-collapsed part of this wall and vaulted over it. My injured hand burned in protest, but I fought through the pain, landing lightly on the other side and scrambling for the cover of the thickest bushes I could find.

A crowd was gathering at the main gate; I was still dangerously close to it, able to hear what I could only assume was a hunting party preparing to come after me.

Was Andrel among that party?

Was my sister?

I sank deeper into the foliage. Hand shaking, I picked up a stick and sketched precise little lines into the dirt, recreating the mental map I'd made of the route between Ederis and the first anti-magic ward.

Somehow, I had to get to the other side of that ward.