Page 66 of The Faceless Mage

A fallen tree blocked her path, nearly as wide as she was tall, and she was forced to move parallel until she could find a way over. Coming down off the other side, she tripped, fell on her face in the dirt, and had to grit her teeth to push herself up.

One step after another. She found a deer trail and jogged down it until she put a foot wrong in the dark and fell, twisting her ankle painfully in the process.

He was coming.

As she pulled herself to her feet, Leisa paused to listen. She still could hear nothing—no one moving through the brush besides herself—but that meant very little. She was crashing around like an entire herd of milk cows. Still, the Raven was larger, and heavier, and carrying all that armor. Surely he would make enough noise to warn her of his approach.

For nearly an hour, she staggered along, barely staying on her feet, limping heavily on an ankle that had clearly swollen inside her boot. She had to stop. But how could she stop? She couldn’t keep going like this. But how could she not try?

Tears rose to her eyes as despair threatened to swamp her. How could it have come down to this? Alone and injured, still too far from home, stumbling through the dark as her death moved ever closer. It seemed the worst kind of trick, and Leisa was forced to choke back a wild cry of agony as she reached the top of a rise and tripped over a tree root hidden beneath the brush.

She fell and rolled, crashing into at least one rock on her way down the hill, only to come to a stop on the shore of a quiet forest pool.

It was mocking her, she thought bitterly—peaceful and still in the moonlight. It had no fear of being wrong, of being too late, of meeting its death too soon.

But at least it was water, and she was thirsty, so she crawled to the edge and scooped up water in her palms. Took a drink, then lifted her head, and focused on the reflection on the other side of the pool.

Her heart battered frantically against her ribs when she saw what seemed to be the shape of a man. Tall, dark, and unmoving.

But it was only a tree stump. Only a reflection.

She lifted her chin, still dripping with water, and squinted into the shadows.

They moved.

And Leisa was suddenly out of time, out of hope, out of ideas.

The Raven regarded her silently from the opposite shore of the pool.

* * *

Time slowed to a crawl, and Leisa’s thoughts slowed with it. There was an extraordinary clarity in the moments before you faced death, she realized—a distilling of everything into the few, bright memories that mattered most.

And as her final thoughts sped past, Leisa was forced to recognize that her own memories held few truly bright or loving moments to cling to. She’d spent her whole life doing what others expected. Fulfilling her obligations, serving because she felt she owed a debt.

And what did she have to show for it? This. A lonely, painful death, far from home, and miles from anyone who might be inclined to mourn her.

And she wasn’t certain whether anyone would care enough to mourn.

She did not regret her service to her kingdom. Nor did she regret trying to save it. Farhall was full of innocent lives—people just doing their best from day to day—and they did not deserve what Garimore had planned for them.

But she did regret Zander. Kip, Terek, and Nyssa. Lives wasted because she hadn’t been fast enough or strong enough.

And she regretted that she’d spent her whole life waiting. Waiting to figure out who she was and where she truly belonged. Waiting to form true friendships because she was too afraid to be known—too afraid someone might find out the truth about her past and her power.

She should have tried harder to find her family. Should have asked her questions. Learned more about her magic. Forgiven herself for her mistakes.

But at least she could die knowing that she’d given everything she had in the service of something larger than herself.

“I tried,” she said into the darkness. “But I was never meant for this sort of thing. The lying, the pretending, the politics… Still, I did my best, and I gave it everything I had. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you caught me. Sorry you have to be the one to do this. At least…” She swallowed the lurch of panic. “At least I know you’ll make it fast.”

With a painful effort that left a sick feeling in her stomach, Leisa struggled to her feet. She was going to face this standing up.

And by the time she’d gained her balance, he was only an arm’s length away.

She’d been fearing this moment for days—the moment when he would finally catch up with her, and she would have to confront the true horror of his captivity.

But now that he was standing in front of her, the fear melted away and left only a strange calm in its wake. Even when he reached out with one, implacable, gauntleted hand and wrapped his fingers around her neck, she felt no terror.

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