“Look at me,” said the Antari, and Tes had done it, even though it hurt her eyes. Bard had leaned in, close. “Never steal something unless you’re sure you’ll get away with it.”
With that, she’d flung Tes’s hand away and carried on down the street. The whole interaction had lasted less than a minute, but Tes had never forgotten. Apparently, neither had Lila Bard.
The Antari finished Tes’s tea, and stared into the dregs at the bottom of the cup. “Why are you following me?”
“I’m not.”
“Don’t lie,” she warned, and as she said it, the magic around her twitched, and Tes felt the bones of her rib cage constrict, a strange and horrible sensation, one she’d never felt before, because it was forbidden. Bone magic.
“You’re not—supposed to—do that,” she said, gasping for air.
“Really?” said Lila, feigning surprise. The invisible hold only tightened. “Let’s see if anyone notices…”
Tes couldn’t breathe, couldn’t break free, so she did the only thing she could—she reached out and grasped the nearest silver thread, felt it hum against her palm before she pulled. In truth, she wasn’t sure what it would do, if it would do anything at all.
But the Antari recoiled, as if burned. The hold on Tes’s rib cage vanished, and she sucked air into her aching lungs as Bard’s face darkened. “What did you just do?”
Tes dragged in a ragged breath and winced, trying not to think about the feel of stitches tearing, the dampness at her side.
“Please,” she said. “I’m being hunted. I need help.”
Lila raised a brow. “So find a guard.”
“I need your help.”
She cocked a brow. “And why is that?”
“You’re the strongest magician in London.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Lila rose from her stool and turned to go.
“I know you’re an Antari.”
Lila Bard paused then, cocking her head, studying her with those two brown eyes. “And how do you know that?”
Tes hesitated. “I can see it. Your magic.”
She seemed to consider, then shrugged. “Bully for you,” she said, walking away. “Don’t follow me again.”
Tes got to her feet. “They’re going to kill me.”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
“I have something they want. A doormaker.”
“I don’t—” Whatever Lila Bard had been about to say, the words died. She stopped. And when she turned back, the anger and annoyance had both been replaced by true surprise. “You have the persalis?”
Tes hesitated. So it had a name. “If a persalis is a device that makes doors to other places…”
Lila did something shocking then. She laughed. Not loud, but softly, to herself. “Once in a while,” she murmured, “the world does provide. Now,” she said, grabbing Tes by the shoulder and hauling her onto her feet. “Who’s coming to kill you?”
“Assassins. They came to my shop last night and—”
“I saw. How many are there?”
“Two.”
“That’s all?”
“They’re strong.”
“I’m sure,” said Lila blandly, steering Tes toward the stairs.
“Wait,” she said, trying to twist around. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safer.” The Antari pushed her up the stairs. “To talk.”
“I have to go back. I left the box—” But the words fell away as they reached the narrow landing at the top of the stairs. Three doors led to three rooms, and one stood open, but not empty. Tes saw the ripple of crimson light as Bex strode through, palm up, the metal buttons already peeling away from Lila’s coat, shooting toward the molten ball of metal in the assassin’s hand.
“Look out!” shouted Tes right as the metal divided itself into nails and the nails shot toward them. Lila Bard shoved Tes down to the floor, but the slivers of metal only changed course and followed, falling like sharpened rain. Tes curled in, braced for the impact, the piercing pain, but the nails missed skin, found cloth instead, pinning her cuffs, her collar, the hem of her coat to the wooden floor of the landing.
She twisted, trying to get free, but Lila was already on her feet, a dagger in one hand. She slashed at Bex, but as she did, the blade simply dissolved, and the killer slammed her boot into Lila’s chest and sent her crashing down the stairs into the tavern below.
Shouts went up, and Tes heard the Antari ordering everyone out, and then the shape of the assassin filled her vision as Bex knelt before Tes, watching as she fought to free one of her hands. The fabric at her cuff tore a little, but didn’t give. And if there had been amusement in the killer’s face the night before, it was long gone. Her eyes were flat and grey and dangerous, and a vicious bruise was blooming beneath both, as if her nose had been recently broken. She flicked her wrist, and a short, sharp blade took shape in her palm.
“Where is it?” demanded Bex.
Tes swallowed, and shook her head. “I don’t have it.”
It was the truth. She’d left it sitting on the floor next to the bar below.
“Wrong answer,” said Bex, and then, before Tes could tear free, she drove the knife down through the back of Tes’s trapped hand.
Her mind went white with pain as the blade sank through to the hilt, the tip lodging in the wood below.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” hissed Bex, and Tes felt a scream rise up her throat, but when it came spilling out, she couldn’t hear it, not over the sudden howl of white noise in her ears.
A wall of wind slammed past her, and into Bex, sending her back across the landing and into the far wall, hard enough to splinter wood.
Tes gritted her teeth and yanked the knife out, choking back a sob as the steel came free. She thought she might be sick, turned her head and saw a swish of coat, and a pair of black boots as Lila Bard strode past her, blood dripping down her cheek.
Across the landing, Bex pushed off the wall and straightened, rolling her shoulders with an audible crack.
“Ice or stone?” asked the Antari, and when Bex only cocked her head in question, Lila touched the cut at her temple and said, “Never mind. I’ll choose.”
She moved fast, faster than a body should. A blur of limbs, her bloodstained hand thrust out as she shot across the landing, and Tes saw the silver of her magic twitch and brighten as the words spilled out.
“As Isera.”
The spell took shape just as her fingers grabbed at Bex’s front, but somehow, the killer twisted free at the last moment. The Antari’s hand found cloak instead of skin, and frost shot across the fabric—through it—turning the cloth to ice in the time it took to say the spell. Bex ducked and spun out of the cloak and it fell, and shattered on the landing floor between them.
The killer stared down at the frozen shards, and for the first time since she strode into Tes’s shop, the bland arrogance was gone, replaced by surprise, and perhaps, even, a touch of fear.
“Not fair, Antari,” she said as the metal bracer on her forearm unspooled, forming into blades.
Lila Bard only shrugged. “Fair has no place in a fight.”
Bex’s blades came singing through the air, but this time, the Antari was ready. She didn’t duck or dodge. Instead, she flung her own hands out, and the metal shivered to a stop.
“Just the one trick, then?” she asked. “Fine. But I can play it, too.”
The blades twitched, and then began to turn back toward Bex. The killer clenched her teeth, and they stopped, hovered, caught between them. In the air, Tes saw the strands of magic drawn taut as rope.
“When two magicians wield the same element,” said Lila Bard, “it becomes a battle of wills. Let’s see, then, which of us folds first.”
Her face was smooth, one eyebrow cocked as if it were all just a game, but Tes could see the strain in the air around her—she was using all her strength. So was Bex. The blades shivered, and the landing began to tremble as the two wills drew not just on the knives, but the surrounding metal. The hinges groaned and the nails pinning her down drew free, and Tes did what she should have done the moment the fight started.
She got out of the fucking way.