Daughter of the Burning City

We soar out of the tent and over Gomorrah. There’s a battle raging not far outside the Menagerie, to the tune of screams and swords clashing. Even from upside-down and far away, it’s easy to see that Gomorrah has the advantage because of its jynx-workers. Shadow-workers clutch the shadows of the officials and toss them dozens of yards away, and all of our weapons carry some kind of strengthening charm.

I don’t think Hawk is thinking about where she’s flying because she’s taking us north, beyond the burning Skull Gate. “We need to find Villiam,” I tell her. The cold wind up here slaps against my skin.

“You still haven’t told me what the hell is even going on.” Her face is pale, and obviously all of this has shaken her as much as it has me. I told Nicoleta and Unu and Du about Agni, but I didn’t tell her. I simply brought her out when I needed her, right in the middle of danger, which wasn’t fair. Yet she acted fast. She saved my life. And, by doing so, saved all our lives.

I’m suddenly reminded of how very young she is.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I just need to be in a tree somewhere. Three dead mice in my hands. And then I’ll be good.”

But we don’t fly to a forest. We turn around and fly back to our tent, beside Villiam’s. Once we land on the ground, we rush around the path’s corner toward our home. The guards who usually protect us are gone—probably dealing with the battle at Skull Gate.

“I’m not a jynx-worker,” someone says nearby. “I’m not. I swear.”

“I can see your shadow twisting.”

Hawk and I creep closer, careful to keep ourselves hidden from sight. It’s Jiafu, cornered by an official. They stand in a clearing surrounded by caravans and tents with their doors sealed and shut, including Villiam’s.

“Who is that?” Hawk whispers. She has no idea who Jiafu is, or that I work with him. I shush her so the official doesn’t spot us.

“Everything’s lit by bloody torches. Of course my shadow is moving,” Jiafu says. Though even as he denies his jynx-work, his shadow twists into a spiral on the grass, as if trying to give away its master.

“If your shadow comes near me, I’ll put this sword through your gut,” the official says.

I’m frozen. I don’t know what I could do at this point. Any illusion I could create to scare the official away would probably only make him retaliate.

Jiafu takes a step closer to a tent, farther away from the nearest torch. His shadow dims and doesn’t twist so much. But it still flickers. He puts up his hands. “I’m just trying to get back to my home,” he says. “I know the proprietor. He personally—”

The official stabs his sword through Jiafu’s neck.

I bite my tongue to keep from screaming and cover Hawk’s eyes with my hand. When he pulls out the sword, spurts of blood follow. Jiafu collapses on the ground, and even from far away, I can see that he dies within moments. The official wipes off his sword on Jiafu’s shirt.

Nausea races through me. I should’ve done something. I shouldn’t have been frozen. But I didn’t expect this to happen. Jiafu always squirms his way out of trouble.

“He just killed him,” Hawk whimpers.

“We need to get inside.”

I am almost too shaken to maintain even the simple moth illusion. I don’t bother to conceal the sound of our footsteps as we run.

I collapse on our living room floor and bury my face in a pillow. My clothes reek of smoke and sweat, and my heart pounds erratically. I feel like my chest could burst, and I breathe in the comforting, familiar scent of the kettle corn kernels that litter our floor.

I open Luca’s Trunk. Maybe he’ll wake now.

He appears lying down, his head resting on my lap, unconscious. “Luca. Luca,” I plead, but it doesn’t do any good. I also open Nicoleta’s Trunk, because I need someone to talk to who can keep a level head through all of this. Hawk has already left to find food in the next room. I hear the wooden bowls clunk together as she rummages around for dead mice.

Nicoleta doesn’t stumble when coming out. She’s gotten used to coming and going between my head and the real world. “What happened?” she asks. “You smell like a cigar shop.”

“Agni showed up and attacked me. Tree trampled him, and Hawk flew us to safety.”

“You’re saying Agni’s dead? And that he was behind all of this?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t make sense. There’s a mind-worker involved; I’m certain of it.”

“I don’t know. Maybe Agni was a mind-worker, too? I just need to breathe. Can I just breathe for a moment?” I’m crying, nearly hyperventilating, shaken to my core. I squeeze Luca’s limp hand for comfort.

Nicoleta does what Nicoleta always does—pace. “Maybe we should leave Gomorrah,” she says.

“Where would we go? We’re as far up in the Up-Mountains as you can get—”

“Anywhere is better than here. There’s another killer here, Sorina. There’s someone else. I can feel it.”

This isn’t what I meant by “just breathe.” I feel as though I need months to gasp for air, if not years. To sleep and not worry about any of this, and to get the sound of Agni’s bones crunching out of my head.

“I need to talk to Villiam,” I say.

“Then go check if he’s next door. Hawk and I will stay with Luca.”

I thank her and hurry outside to Villiam’s caravan. As I knock on the door, I realize just how much I need to hear his voice. I need him to hug me. To tell me it will be okay. I need my father to sort this out.

There are voices inside.

“There are people dying in Gomorrah over this nonsense,” Villiam says. “Your officials are terrorizing them for no reason.”

“The officials are under direct orders from the new lord Exander to ensure you leave. If you want them to stop, take your Festival away from here and back to where you came from.”

“We had permission to come here a month ago. From the lord.”

“It’s been revoked, now that the previous lord is dead. May he rest in peace.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter why.”

I knock harder. This time, someone throws open the door. It’s a Leonitian city official, dressed all in white. He stares at me and my strange mask.

“Go home, girl,” he says.

“Sorina?” Villiam’s eyebrows furrow. “What are you doing here?”

“I need you. Please.”

Villiam turns to the officials. “We’ll be leaving Leonita soon. And I suggest you remove your officials from our Festival. We didn’t come here looking for violence—we’re fleeing the war behind us. But if you continue to attack, know that you are against an entire city, one far more ancient than yours and one full of magic.”

His expression is intimidating, almost threatening, even despite his crutches. Before I knocked, it sounded as though the officials had the upper hand, but Villiam turned the course of the conversation in an instant. Would I ever be able to do that, as a proprietor? I doubted it.

“Ovren champions those who serve Him,” one of the officials says, but he pulls the other by the shoulder and they leave.

“What has happened, Sorina?” he says, once the door closes behind them. “You look frazzled.”

“We were attacked,” I say, burying my face in his chest. “It was Agni. Agni killed Gill and Blister and Venera. Luca is innocent.”

He stiffens. “No, that’s not possible. I’ve known Agni for years—”

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