She wanted to kick him. “I’m not your slave, Tsyrke! Go ahead! Leave like a banned coward! But don’t make me.”
He came closer. She could hit him if she wanted to. Maybe he wanted her to. “So you can run to your little barter friend? Do you truly believe he cares for you? That you could what…live in Avisahn with him? You know the Shae, girl. That’s what surprises me so much about this foolishness clapping about in your head. I made my promise to you, Sparrow. I’m keeping it right now. I’ll let the boy live. I’ll let him win the day. But the deal was for you.” His finger stabbed the air. “It was always for you.”
She looked him in the eye, felt her heart throb with anger and warmth. Ban, she hated him. Hated him and loved him. “I don’t want you, Tsyrke.”
A look of pain bloomed across his face. She couldn’t have cut him deeper with a knife.
A hot snort expelled from him. “I’m bloody going to save your life anyway.”
No!
“Tsyrke. Listen to me. If you make me go with you, I’ll hate you. I’ll hate you for the rest of my life.”
He untied the knot holding the tether to the bedpost. “You’re desperate, girl. I’ve seen that look when someone knows they aren’t holding a winning hand at Bones. I can truss you up and carry you to the horses if I must. Don’t think I won’t. Now be a good girl. I’m not giving you up.”
She wanted to rake his face with her nails. But something stopped her. A feeling went down her back and made her shudder.
He paused and looked up. “What’s wrong?”
And then Quickfellow was there, grabbing Tsyrke by the arm and shoving him into the wall face first.
Ticastasy yanked the tether out of his hands and stumbled backwards. When she looked up, she saw Tsyrke collapse, not making a sound as he fell.
She gaped at Quickfellow as he stuffed something into a pouch at his waist.
A surge of joy dazzled her. Was it true? Had he finally gotten himself out of a mess without her help? How had he gotten in the room? From the trapdoor? It didn’t make any sense, but she didn’t care.
“What are you…how did you…?” she whispered, her eyes stinging.
“Saving you, it would appear,” he answered, just a little smugly. His eyes twinkled. “I’m glad I finally got a turn.”
He bent over Tsyrke’s body and drew a dagger from a sheath at his belt.
“Please. Don’t kill him.”
“No. I wouldn’t do that.” He straightened and slit the bonds screaming at her wrists.
As soon as she was free, she took his face in her hands and kissed him full on the mouth. He tasted, actually, like bile.
“By the gods, Quickfellow, our first kiss was better,” she said, wiping her mouth.
He smiled and took her hand. “You ready to run again?”
She was and much more. “Just don’t ask me to leave you.”
Chapter XXIX
The Sorian walked with head bent, the whisper of his robes snuffling against the paving stones. From a few of the houses peeked tapers and lamps, but the majority of the dwellings in the inner city had failed to announce their homes as occupied by anyone living. The mercy of armies was a fickle thing, regardless of whether that army was liberating or not. It seemed to Exeres that the citizens of Landmoor hunkered against an advancing storm.
He was doing the same thing himself.
The gloom of the night still prevailed, but the faint edges of dawn brightened the eastern sky with shades of turquoise. A hot wind roamed the deserted streets, tugging rudely at his clothes. He gripped the Bloodstone in his left hand, drawing in as much Earth magic as it would let him. It throbbed with heat, burning uncomfortably against his skin. At what point it would start blistering, he didn’t know, but he bit his lip to stifle the pain, walking in the Sorian’s wake as they advanced through the web-work of streets.
“Up ahead. Do you feel it, boy?”
Exeres had to swallow before he could speak. “I do.” The presence of another power rattled through the stones, making the air a smothering miasma. The same reek churned from Mage.
“Remember what I told you. Use the Bloodstone to protect yourself from the magic when it begins. Watch for falling rubble. Be alert. Get as near as you can before striking. With that Stone, she won’t be able to lock out your grasp of the Earth magic. Do not let her back inside your mind.”
“I understand.”
Another cough and boom filled the air just ahead, followed by the pattering of bricks and fragments. Mage muttered something, and pressed on. The air charged with power as if the entire sky coiled in upon that very spot. Spots danced before his good eye. His blind eye watched the flow of magic ebbing from Mage much faster, but replenished itself from the world around him to counter the drain.
Anger burned inside him. It was wrong. The Sorian—all of them—were wrong to exist.