Wintertide (The Riyria Revelations #5)

Royce chased after Merrick, who abandoned stealth to make an open run for it. Royce caught up quickly, and Merrick gave up near the middle of the bridge. He turned, his dagger drawn, his face covered in sweat and soot.

“I didn’t kill her,” he shouted.

Royce did not respond. He rapidly closed the remaining distance and attacked. The white dagger lashed out like a snake. Merrick dodged. He avoided the first swipe but Royce caught him on the return stroke, slicing across his chest.

“Listen to me,” Merrick said, still trying to back away. “Why would I kill her? You know me! Don’t you think I knew she was my protection? Have you ever seen me do anything as stupid as that? Just ask yourself—why would I do such a thing? What would I gain? Think, Royce, think. What reason would I have to kill her?”

“The same reason that I’m going to kill you—revenge.”

Royce lunged. Merrick tried to move, but he was too slow. He would have died instantly if Royce had aimed for his heart or throat. Instead, Alverstone caught Merrick in the right shoulder.

It plunged deep and Merrick dropped his weapon.

“IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE!” Merrick screamed at him. “This has nothing to do with Jade. If I wanted revenge, I could have killed you years ago. I only wanted Saldur and the empress. I was never going to hurt her. We’ve made our peace with one another, Royce. I was serious about that offer to work together again. We are not enemies. Don’t make the same mistake I did. You were set up when Jade died, but I couldn’t see that—I didn’t want to. Now someone is doing the same thing to me. I’ve been set up, don’t you see? Just like you were. Use your brain! If I had a bow, would I have let you burn the warehouse? It wasn’t me. It was someone else!”

Royce made a show of looking around. “Funny, I don’t see anyone else here.”

He pounced again. Merrick retreated and his heel hit the short curb of the bridge.

“You’re running out of room.”

“Damn it Royce, you have to believe me. I would never kill Gwen. I swear to you—I didn’t do it!”

“I believe you,” Royce said. “I just don’t care.”

With one final thrust, he stabbed Alverstone into Merrick’s chest.

Merrick toppled backward. He reached out for the only thing he could grab, and together he and Royce fell over the edge.





***

When the gate had burst open, Hadrian did not wait for the others. Instead, he spurred his horse and raced toward the river. Malevolent slipped on the snow and nearly fell as he rounded the corner to Landon Bridge. On the far side, the warehouse burned like a giant pyre. The street lamps on that side of the bridge were dark. On his side, the iron swans, dusted with snow, flickered with an eerie orange light. The tall lampposts cast wavering shadows—thin, dark, dancing spears that fluttered and jabbed.

Hadrian saw her lying near the side of the bridge.

“Oh, dear Maribor, no!” He ran to Gwen’s side. Flakes of snow gathered on her closed eyes and clung to her dark lashes. He put his head to her chest. There was no heartbeat—she was dead.

“IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE!” Hadrian heard someone cry out. Looking down the bridge, he saw them at the very apex of the span. Royce had Merrick backed up along the edge. Merrick was hurt, unarmed, and screaming. Jumping to his feet, Hadrian sprinted forward, his boots slipping on the slick snow. From only a few strides away, Hadrian saw Royce stab Merrick and watched as both of them tumbled over the side.

He slid, caught himself against the lip, and looked over. His heart pounded in his chest. Far below, the churning water of the Bernum River revealed itself as a dark line broken by moonlit explosions where water crashed against rocks. He saw something dark still falling. A moment later, it hit the surface with a brief flash of white.





***

Arista flexed her fingers and climbed back on her horse. Breckton remounted as well and rode forward to speak with the shouting gate guards. Hadrian had already disappeared into the twisting streets.

No one mentioned anything about the exploding gate.

Without Hadrian to guide them, Sir Breckton led the detachment through Colnora. They crossed the Bernum using the Warpole Bridge and were midway across when they saw the warehouse ablaze near a bridge farther down the river, signaling their destination. Rather than backtrack, Breckton continued across the Warpole and arrived at the Langdon Bridge on the warehouse side, causing them to pass in front of the monstrous blaze.

The building was an inferno. The burning hulk mesmerized Arista. Huge spirals of flames reached to the sky. All four stories were on fire. The north wall blistered and snapped. The east wall curled and partially collapsed, releasing a burst of sparks and a rain of burning debris that hissed when it struck snow. White smoke billowed out from shattered windows and a nearby oak tree blazed, its naked limbs turned into a giant torch.

Arista heard a woman cry out.

“That’s Modina!” Amilia shrieked, pulling back so hard on her horse’s reins that the beast shook its head and backed up a step. “SHE’S INSIDE!”

Sir Breckton and several of his men dismounted and rushed to the doorway. They broke down the bolted door, but the heat forced them back. Breckton pulled his cloak over his head and started to enter.

“Stop!” Arista shouted as she slid from her horse.

The knight hesitated.

“You’ll die before you reach her. I’ll go.”

“But—” Breckton started to say then stopped. Rubbing his jaw, he looked at the fire and then back at Arista. “Can you save her?”

Arista shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never done this before, but I stand a better chance than you do. Just keep everyone else back.”

She pulled the sleeves of Esrahaddon’s robe over her hands and the hood up around her head and then approached the crumbling warehouse. Realizing she could sense the fire’s movements was exhilarating. The blaze moved and acted like a living thing. It withered, snapped, and fed on the old wood like a ravenous beast. It was hungry, starved for nourishment, a never ending want, boundless greed. Approaching the inferno, she sensed it noticing her, and the fire regarded Arista with desire.

No, she told it. Eat the wood. Ignore me.

The fire hissed.

Leave me alone or I will snuff you out.

Arista knew she could conjure a rainstorm, or even a whirlwind, but rain would take too long, and wind would collapse the fragile building. Perhaps there was a way to eliminate the fire altogether, but she was not certain how to go about it and Modina could not wait for her to figure it out.