Both were soundless. No war cries or curses. No razored quips. Both had been trained in the art of death by the finest killers in the Republic, and both had marked their lessons well. Ashlinn drew two stilettos from her sleeves and met Jessamine’s charge. Mia blinked through the falling rain, that awful burning light, noticing that Ash’s weapons were discolored with poison. Though Jessamine had advantage with a longer blade, one scrape from Ash might be enough to end her.
Mia groped toward her longsword, tried to stand. But she could manage neither—not with that accursed trinity around Ashlinn’s throat. Every time Ashlinn moved, the muted sunslight caught the medallion’s face, lancing Mia’s eyes. Clenching her teeth, it was all she could do to hold back her whimper, let alone stand and fight.
Mister Kindly had fled, and Eclipse couldn’t approach the trinity either. Mia was alone. Awful fear swelled in her belly, terror in the face of this god and his hatred.
All her power. All her training. All her gifts.
And she was utterly helpless.
Jessamine lunged across the slick tiles, the speed and feral cunning that had made her Solis’s favored pupil on display. Ash backed away, fear shining in her eyes as she realized she was outmatched. But her voice was steady and cold.
“Nice to see you again, Jess. How’s being second in line treating you?”
The bright notes of steel on steel.
The percussion of thunder.
“Tell me”—Ashlinn narrowly ducked Jessamine’s strike—“how did it taste when they teamed you up with the girl who cheated you out of becoming a Blade?”
Jessamine remained silent, refusing to be goaded. Pushing Ashlinn back, lunging as her foe slipped on the rain-slick tile. Ashlinn scrambled back to her feet, losing her grip on one of her knives. The poisoned dagger skittered down the roof’s slope, caught itself on the gutter’s lip.
“How did it taste when Mia killed Diamo?”
Jessamine faltered for a moment, renewing her attack with furious intensity. Ashlinn smiled, backing up closer to where Mia lay helpless. She held her poisoned blade in front of her, deadlier poison dripping from her lips.
“Were you fucking him?” Ash asked. “I never found out. How did it taste bending the knee to the girl who murdered him?”
“Shut up,” Jessamine whispered.
“He died messy, Jess,” Ashlinn said. “Puking blood. Shit in his britches. Could you smell it from the testing circle? I got a whiff from up in the bleachers.”
“Shut up!”
Jessamine lunged, face twisted with rage. Ashlinn spun aside, and with her foe off-balance, found time to reach into a belt pouch. Grasping a handful, flinging out her hand, a bright flash of arkemical powder bursting in Jessamine’s eyes. The redhead staggered back, sputtering and blinded. Ashlinn closed for the kill, but with her stomach seething, Mia lashed out with her boot, knocking Ashlinn’s feet out from under her.
Jessamine and Ashlinn went down together, rapier and poisoned blade both clattering to the tiles. The girls fell to brawling, clawing at each other’s faces, punching and kicking and cursing. They tumbled down the sloping roof, rolling to a halt on the gutter’s edge. Ashlinn lay underneath Jessamine, hands wrapped around the redhead’s throat. Jessamine punched hard, splitting Ash’s lip. Still half-blinded, she groped for Ash’s collar, wrapping up the gold chain in her fist and strangling back. The chain snapped clean, the trinity dropping thirty feet onto the cobbles below. Thunder rolled, lightning tearing across the skies as the medallion fell out of sight, the pain in Mia’s skull, the sickness in her belly slowly fading.
“You fucking traitor,” Jessamine spat, punching Ash in the jaw.
“Get … off m-me!”
“I’ll show you what dying messy looks like.”
Jessamine wrapped her fingers around Ash’s throat, punched her again with her free hand. She was raising her fist to strike again when a voice rose above the storm.
“Jess, th-that’s enough.”
The redhead refused to look over her shoulder, bloodshot eyes locked on Ashlinn. Mia was on her feet, not looking anything close to steady, but slowly making her way down the roof with her gravebone longsword in hand.
“Fuck you, Corvere,” Jessamine spat.
“We n-need her alive.” Mia spit the taste of vomit off her tongue. “She double-crossed the braavi. But they p-paid a fortune. There’s no way she just incinerated a map that valuable. Presuming she even has it, we can’t find it if she’s dead.”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
Mia sighed. “You’re my Hand, Jess. That’s exactly what you do.”
Jessamine turned to glare at Mia, sodden hair in her eyes. Her frustration, the rage of the past seven nevernights in Mia’s company finally getting the better of her.
“I should be delivering this offering. I should be the Blade here, not you.”
“Nobody said life was fair, Red.”
“Fair?” Jessamine laughed. “Who the f—ckkkg…”
Jessamine reeled backward, blood gushing from her throat. Ashlinn stabbed the girl again, the poisoned blade that had fallen into the gutter flashing in her hand. Jessamine gasped, hands to her punctured neck, arterial red spraying between her fingers and down her sodden tunic. Ashlinn stabbing again. And again.
Mia roared Jess’s name as thunder crashed, as Ashlinn grabbed the Hand’s collar and slung her forward. Jessamine clutched Ash’s wrist in desperation, trying to stop her fall. But with a sickening crunch, the girl toppled off the roof and onto the fence bordering the basilica grounds, impaled on the wrought-iron spikes below.
The novices below cried out in horror, ran screaming for the Luminatii, for the cardinal, for anyone. Arcs of jagged blue white lit the skies as Ashlinn dragged herself to her feet, soaked with Jessamine’s blood.
“You bitch,” Mia whispered.
Ashlinn wiped her knuckles across split lips. Pawing at her throat, she realized the trinity was gone.
“Mia, you don’t understand what’s happening here…”
Mia raised her blade. “You killed her.”
Blood soaking Ashlinn’s hands.
Rage swimming in Mia’s eyes.
Lightning reflected on the pale edge of her longsword, in the empty gaze of the dead girl hanging on the wrought-iron fence below their feet.
The basilica bells started ringing again—a warning this time. Acolytes were gathered in the courtyard below, howling, “Murder! Murder!” Mia stepped forward, blade poised. With the trinity over the edge of the building, Mister Kindly and Eclipse had returned, filling the terrifying emptiness she’d felt with the strength of cold steel. Ash’s feet were snared in her own shadow—she had nowhere to run. But Mia had spoken truth to Jessamine; if she killed the girl now, she’d not see that map. And after her last flaying before the Ministry, she’d be damned if she returned to them empty-handed.
But if she returned with the girl who’d brought the Ministry to their knees?
Black Mother, imagine the look on Solis’s face …
So, Mia drew back her sword and cracked the crow hilt across Ashlinn’s jaw. The girl tumbled onto her backside, half-senseless. Mia set about searching Ash’s clothing, boots, sleeves, finding blades and toxins and arkemical powders and hurling them off the roof. Ashlinn sat up, dazed, and Mia pressed her sword tip into the flesh above the girl’s heart. She could hear the faint sound of heavy boots over the thunder.
“… luminatii, mia…”
“… GOD-BOTHERING CURS. LET THEM COME…”