Kyra could still see Santon’s body on the ground, the angle of his ravaged neck. The memory kept shifting. It was as if she saw the body through two sets of eyes, one that looked upon it with relish and the other with horror. The emotions didn’t mix well, and she fought the sickening churn of her stomach. The first time she killed a man, when she’d slit a man’s throat in a failed Assassins Guild raid, that had been an accident. But this…
A shadow crossed the alley’s entrance, and Kyra froze. It wasn’t a Red Shield. Just a man, and he continued right on down the street without stopping. But the shock reminded her of her danger. The Palace knew where she lived. There would be Red Shields at her door within a few hours—if not Red Shields, then an angry mob, and Idalee and Lettie were at home. A fresh wave of panic jolted through her. What had she done? The mob wouldn’t differentiate between Kyra and her family. She had to warn them. Kyra set off again with renewed speed, keeping to alleyways and rooftops since she couldn’t blend in with the evening crowds when her clothing was in tatters and her face smeared with blood.
Kyra burst into her quarters to find Lettie, Idalee, and Flick playing a dice game. Flick looked up with a smile, only to have the smile freeze on his face.
Kyra froze as well, staring at the three of them with wide eyes. “We have to leave,” she said. “Now. Take everything.”
The three of them gaped at her.
“Now!” Kyra said again, louder this time. She could hear the tinge of hysteria in her voice. Giving up on them, she ran over to her chest and started pulling things out. She threw her spare clothes onto the ground and fished out a coil of rope.
“Kyra, wait.” Flick crossed the room and took her by the arm. She let him turn her around, and he bent so their eyes were level. “What’s going on?”
She was shaking. Even with the pressure of Flick’s hands on her shoulders, the tremors came through. She swallowed. “Santon of Agan is dead,” she said finally.
“What happened?”
“He—I—” Kyra couldn’t say it. “Not now, please. We have to go. The Red Shields will be here any minute.” She took a deep breath. “They know what I am. I changed.”
Flick’s grip on her went slack. “People saw?”
She nodded.
Flick looked down at her scattered belongings with new understanding. “I need to go get my things.” The readiness with which he accepted this only served to intensify her guilt. If he’d yelled at her for blowing her cover and uprooting them all, she might have found the energy to defend herself. But perhaps it was better this way. They had no time to squabble.
“Meet us at the spot by the south wall,” Kyra said.
After Flick left, Kyra washed the blood off her face and changed into clean clothes. When she turned around, she saw Idalee watching her with a stricken expression.
“Idalee,” Kyra said uncertainly. “We need to pack quickly.”
The girl looked to be in a daze, but she moved to her own chest and started pulling out belongings with her non-splinted arm. Once Kyra was done with her own bags, she gathered Lettie’s clothes. She also jumped to retrieve a stash of emergency coins that she’d hidden in a hollowed-out roof beam. Then she rushed them all out the door.
Flick stood waiting by the south wall with a bag slung over his shoulders. They’d scouted out this spot before, a stretch lined with houses that didn’t have windows on their outward-facing sides. Kyra threw a grappling hook over the top—it clinked more loudly than she would have liked—then waited as Flick climbed up and hauled their bags after him. Idalee was next. Kyra tied a loop for the girl to stand on, and she held tightly with her good arm while Flick pulled her up. Lettie followed, and then Kyra came last.
A wide road circled the city wall. Beyond that were houses, not crowded as densely as the houses in the city, but there were still too many people who might see them. The main road led out from the city gates, but that was farther down the wall, and they didn’t dare follow it. Instead, they took narrow footpaths that led them between houses. There were others on these roads—farmers returning home, women running errands. The four of them put their heads down and walked as if they belonged.