Page 49 of Steel Heart Iron Claws

I flick open the flap on my hunting knife’s sheath, ready to draw steel at a moment’s notice. If he’s meeting with the Grand Cleric—as Rian suspects—I’ll need to be on my toes. That pompous holy man, Beneveto, swings a sword better than he recites prayers, and I’m betting he’s more likely to stick a man with a blade than bless him with a sermon.

Kendan unlocks the gate and disappears into a darkpassageway that descends beneath the temple. I slip in behind him, my footsteps silent on the worn stone steps, anticipation coursing through me as I realize he’s leading me to the city catacombs, a place where secrets are buried with the dead.

We emerge in a narrow underground chamber lined with ancient tombs. Kendan moves freely, but at my height, I have to duck to avoid the low stone joists. A spiral stairwell takes us back up to the surface, where, to my surprise, we emerge into the rear portion of a blacksmith shop.

The reek of iron and woodsmoke slap me in the face like a bucket of ice water. The blacksmith shop is vacant now, the chisels and hammers neatly hung on wall hooks, though the forge in the center of the warehouse creaks as its embers glow.

Kendan dabs a cloth to the sweat beading his forehead as he exits through a rear door.

Pausing, I get my bearings as I recall a map of these streets. There’s an alley out that door that leads to a high-end brothel. Chances are, that’s not his scene. He seems too self-righteous. However, at the end of the alley, there’s a leech house for the poor sponsored by the Red Church, open at all hours, which would be the perfect place for a rendezvous.

As soon as I hear his footsteps recede, I silently open the rear door and step out into the alley?—

And,fuck.

Someone immediately shoves a burlap sack over my head, while a second man presses a knife to my throat. The sack must be doused in lamp oil, because the smell is so overpowering I can’t smell or taste anything else.

I freeze, hands raised in surrender, though my mind churns with ways to beat my two captors bloody.

The first one clamps a padded strap around my ears, muffling my hearing.

That’s when I realize I’mreallyfucked.

These men know about my godkiss—which means I’ve just walked into a trap.

Chapter 14

Sabine

Cloudfox?I call out my window.Are you there?

I wait, tapping my toes anxiously, but there’s no answer.

Cloudfox! We made a deal! I need to know if you upheld your end. I’ve been thinking about your name. I’m getting close.

Again, no answer.

I turn away, cursing. The little troublemaker has been suspiciously absent since I sent her to steal the bottle of Basten’s memories from Iyre’s room. Either Iyre somehow captured her, which is doubtful since I was with Iyre all night in the hemlock grove. More likely, our fae bargain was just another trick.

Note to self—never trust a cloudfox.

“Dammit,” I murmur aloud.

I look up at the daytime moon. Basten, I’m coming.

He might not remember me. He might even hate me. Believe that I’m a traitor. But Rian is scheming some kind of twisted, elaborate punishment for what happened at theMidtane gathering. For all the times Basten rushed to my aide, now it’s my turn to save him.

It takes a few days, but finally, I get my chance.

As midday light streams through the windows, loud voices in the hall snap my attention to the door. Footsteps rush down the hall, skipping more than sprinting, along with the excited cries of a handful of maids.

I throw open the door, curious. “What’s happening?”

The guard posted there speaks to a maid whose face is as bright as a buttercup.

The maid cries, “Highness, we have blessed news! The king’s searchers have located the resting place of Immortal Thracia! A godkissed mystic revealed during a trance that the Goddess of Night slumbers in the westernmost Cratian Island. Soon, your father shall awaken her, and we will have another goddess amongst us!”

I grip the edge of the door to hide how this news affects me.

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