Page 66 of Heart of Night

“Stop flirting, and let the women do their job,” the older guard scolds the younger one, his stern face landing on Kaira while Clio casually shifts in front of me, looping her arm through Kaira’s.

“We really need to go, or Lord Ephegos will be very disappointed and not give any of us leave.” She says it to the older guard, but it’s the younger one who seems disappointed as he gets the message.

“We wouldn’t want that.” His gaze hops back and forth between Kaira and her as if he’s planning not only tonight but his entire week’s evening activities starring the two servant women in front of me, who mercifully have managed to keep the guards’ attention off me.

“Definitely not,” Kaira agrees and winks at Julj as he opens the door for us.

My stomach tightens as they walk out the door and I follow, setting one foot after the other on my path between the two men, their eyes alert and ready to discard any danger from outside—or from within.

I’ve almost made it when a hand lands on my shoulder and the older guard stops me. “Wait.”

“Kaira,” I reach for her through our connection when every spoken word would give away that something is wrong.

The part-Flame slows, her hand slipping from Clio’s arm, who turns, her whole body tense for a fight.

I don’t face the man as he steps to my side, studying me from a head above.

Shit. If he recognizes me, this is over. Between the three of us, we might defeat two palace guards, but the noise would alert more guards, and even if we managed to escape, Ephegos and Erina would hear about it, and they would make Myron and the others pay for it.

“Keep your calm, Ayna,” Kaira orders. “Breathe.” Out loud, she says, “Anything wrong?” Her gaze darts past the older guard to Julj before returning to me.

The man hasn’t lifted his fingers from my shoulder—the very same shoulder that hurt like mad earlier when Katrijanov stabbed Myron in the tattoo. I try not to cringe, try to stand tall while keeping my face slightly averted and in the shadows the palace walls throw over us.

His fingers slide to my neck, and I can hear the sound of spines snapping under the force of a hand. I’ve seen too much during my years on the Wild Ray and in the prison at Fort Perenis not to know what a deliberate hand can do to a neck like mine. My hairs stand at the back of my neck as fear floods my veins, pushing me to run-run-run like an animal.

“It’s the Crow instincts, Ayna. Don’t listen to them. Focus on your breathing, or you’ll shift right here.” Kaira’s voice is a soothing anchor, keeping me from jolting into a run. If I run, he’ll know. If I run, I’ll damn Myron to more pain. If I run?—

The hand reaches higher, grazing the nape of my neck, and I almost quake, my body tensing to fight in a mirror of Clio’s readiness to slaughter. My gaze meets hers, signaling that I’m prepared.

She shakes her head ever so slightly, indicating for me to hold still.

The fingers curve around my bound hair and tug.

I flinch.

“Hold still, foolish woman,” the guard grumbles. “I’m just fixing your hair. You know how much King Erina hates when his staff is perceived as sloppy. It reflects on the reputation of his court.” He pulls hard enough to hurt, until the hidden lengths of my hair slide free of my clothes and flop down between my shoulder blades. I don’t breathe. “There, better. ”

He drops his hand, stepping back into position beside the door, and I don’t hesitate when Clio waves me forward. Kaira walks to my other side as they frame me until we make it to the next corner.

I only manage a full breath when Kaira drags me into a narrow alley where the sparse light doesn’t reach and the noises of the palace no longer follow.

Clio takes off her maid’s cap then fiddles with mine until it comes loose. “That was close.”

“Close enough to make me wish I’d packed fresh underwear,” Kaira agrees.

I instinctively sniff, wondering if she is joking or if she really peed her pants.

“Joking,” Kaira informs me through our mental connection. “But I really don’t have spare underwear in here.” She rummages through her satchel, pulling out a small canteen of water. “Drug-free. Promise.”

Clio steps out of her servant uniform, revealing the same linen pants and shirt I’m wearing before she helps me take off my skirts and apron, while Kaira is changing into a set of leather pants I wish I knew where she got.

“Let’s find a place to hide until the two of you have the drug out of your system.”

Thirty-Three

Ayna

The city is alive with evening dwellers as we sneak from corner to corner, all dressed in inconspicuous attire, our hair braided and rolled up into buns the way many peasants wear for practicality. A cool breeze announces summer is coming to an end, and I shudder at the mingle of scents and smells wafting along the alleys.

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