Page 147 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

“Yes, but for now, we are of value to her. And whether she wishes to call our agreement an alliance or not, she will do for us what we may not be able to do for ourselves,” Zander counters.

“Yeah, if we can figure out how to perform an exorcism of a fate.” Is it even possible?

“That is what we went to such great lengths to bring these scribe minds here for, isn’t it? So, let us give them their task and plan to return to Cirilea tomorrow night to deal with Sofie. Until then, we have a city to reclaim.”

41

Tyree

I pull the canvas back to steal a glimpse beyond at the foggy, desolate road. Dawn approaches, the sky turning a murky gray. “Are we clear of Orathas?”

The burly farmer steering the supply wagon and its workhorses peers over his shoulder at me, giving me a good look at the nasty scar that runs from the center of his forehead down, deforming his left nostril and top lip. An unfortunate strike, one I’m surprised he survived. He points behind us. “Orathas.”

“Thank you.” I spare the young woman riding beside him a nod before ducking back inside. “I think he understood me.”

“If only we had someone who could communicate with them.” Annika looks pointedly at the balled-up form at our feet, who hasn’t moved since we left.

I grin. “We’ll give her another hour or two to sober up.”

“I do not know how she sleeps through any of this.” As if to punctuate Annika’s point, the wagon jolts over a pothole, rattling my teeth and shaking the contents of the stacked wooden crates around us. It’s a good thing Destry is so small because our travel quarters are tight. We had to shimmy through the front and wedge ourselves in the cramped space among the supplies. But I won’t complain. To the unaware, this looks like any other trade run, which is precisely the kind of cover we want.

“I think there is more ale than blood flowing through her veins.” Destry had a fresh mug in her fist when Annika and I arrived at the meet spot, after climbing down my moss ladder and retracing my escape route. I didn’t have the luxury at that hour of using passersby to distract the guards at the gate and was forced to kill them. We ran, our arms laden with their swords and daggers.

Ledric was waiting alongside this supply wagon and its drivers—his brother and niece, Destry explained. His meaty fist sat open for his payment, which I gave him after Destry translated a clear threat about what would happen should he utter a word to anyone. It was all for show—I’m not that concerned. If he had intentions of betraying me, he wouldn’t send his family with us, and deducing that brought me comfort.

“Why don’t you try to get some rest.” I shutter my own eyes.

“Sitting up on a wooden box? That is impossible.”

It’s not unless you are a spoiled princess who travels with servants by golden carriage. But I don’t say that because we’re semi-civilized with each other for once, and it’s a nice change. “You can rest your head here.” I pat my thigh.

If her eyes could shoot actual daggers, my groin would be eviscerated. “As if I would fall for that.”

“My intentions are pure.” Though, now that she puts that thought in my head, my eyes drift to her full lips and a mental image stirs my blood. “I’m serious. I will stay awake.”

“No, thank you. As if I could sleep. Every time I wake up lately, I feel as though I’ve landed in Azo’dem.” She tugs her cloak closer to her body. Peeking out from beneath it is that silken white nightgown that had me gaping like one of her fawning suitors earlier.

“We will stop to find you more suitable clothes as soon as it’s safe.”

“Will anywhere be safe? Any one of these people would be willing to hand me to the king if they knew what I was, and I wouldn’t blame them.”

“They would have to get through me first.”

She has no answer to that, regarding me shrewdly before her attention flitters away. “Do you think they’ve discovered us gone yet?”

“Yes. I didn’t hide the dead guards well, and they would find them gone at shift change.”

She rests her head against a crate. “What do you think King Hadkiel will do?”

“Send his guard out to comb through the city, looking for clues about which way we went. It won’t be long before they figure out that we headed for the port. They’ll send messages ahead to the various lords and ladies, demanding they scour every corner with orders to kill me and detain you.” That’s what I would do, anyway.

“How many days is it to this port?”

“Seven.”

She worries her lips, and I know what she’s thinking because I’m dwelling on it too—seven days is a long time. Much can go wrong. “And then we get on a ship, only for the sirens to bring us right back.”

“Fleeing to Espador is our best option for now.”

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