Page 36 of The Crow Games

Blue and the sisters were still there. They’d waited for us. The sight of them sent my hopes soaring and warmed the renewing magic in my chest.

I spotted Emma’s tall conical hat first, then Liesel beside her. They were taking a dust bath like hens to replenish their energies, buried up to the neck in loose dirt and sand. Blue sat on a stool beside a makeshift wheelbarrow fashioned from the broken pieces of horse carts. The extra wheels and parts the crafty green sisters hadn’t used remained scattered about.

Nola reached them first, carrying Ruchel across her broad shoulders. “It’s been a lot longer than one hour,” she said to Blue, a happy glint in her cobalt eyes.

Blue snorted dismissively. “Yes, well, the girls needed a pick-me-up after making that, and I had business with Talia.”

“And you’re not always a cunt,” Ruchel added as Nola lowered her into the wheelbarrow. “This was a very clever idea. Thank you all.”

“Shut it,” Blue hissed. “Someone might hear you carrying on. The sellers will think I’ve gone soft and try to stick me with higher prices.”

The expansive market filled out the courtyard and spilled into the streets. Nola showed me around and we bartered at various stalls. I traded the boots I’d scavenged for roasted potatoes and a roll of bread, a proper holster for my weapons, and three more rounds for the revolver. Good food and better company replenished more of my spirit. I asked discreet questions and learned the black uniforms represented a coven who called themselves the Guardians, self-proclaimed servants of God King Alrick.

“They say they’re fighting to end the trials, but it’s yet another power play fueled by a god to grab another throne. That’s all,” Nola droned. “This coven is more organized than the Master’s group of bashers, but I don’t know who their leader is. The last rumor I heard, the god king himself was at the helm, but that’s probably nonsense. The Guardians are growing rapidly, though, turning prisoners into soldiers. Transforming the maze into their territory. That’s not just rumor.”

“Could they bring the games to an end before they even start? Isn’t that what we all want?” I asked, working through my own ponderings out loud. This coven certainly looked impressive standing all together. There were so many of them. “Are they a way out of the trials and off the Schatten for good?”

“That’s nothing but a dream, and they’ll all die for it,” Nola said bleakly. “Blue’s been here longer than anyone, and she’ll tell you the same. Groups like this one crop up claiming they’re theanswer. Then rivals rise to power beside them like weeds. They kill each other and there’s panic and anarchy and more death than ever before. It’s covens like ours willing to keep their teams small and smart who survive. That’s what matters most. Stay unnoticed, avoid god politics, and you stay alive.”

But freedom was what I wanted. Freedom so I could have my revenge. A guilty god still needed to die, and if I needed to kill all of them to get at the one responsible, I’d do that.

“You could risk the nights here and remain in the maze,” Nola continued. “You could pray the giants and the garm don’t get you. Declare Alrick as your god and fight beside warlocks who wear hexen bones made of our defiled dead on their clothes.”

My nose wrinkled. “No thank you. I’ll stick to our new plan: finding a way out of the Otherworld.”

“Agreed. I’ve had enough of war. I won’t be used again like a weapon to bring more power to already powerful men, whatever the reason,” Nola said. “I’ve been approached before by the Guardians. My answer is always the same.”

“‘Fuck off’ with both middle fingers raised?” I guessed.

“Exactly.”

More Guardians flooded the market, and Nola and I were ushered to the outskirts to make room for them. Someone of import had arrived, based on the sudden din. We huddled under the overhang of a stall that sold boot repair services. I wished I was a few inches taller so I could see who it was that had everyone acting excitedly.

The shadows darkened around me and the air cooled. Asher remained hidden, his wraith-like shade concealing his body, but the silky touch of his magic grazed my shoulder. It didn’t bother me. I appreciated that he was making his presence known. It felt less like spying that way.

And then the crowd shifted just enough that I caught a glimpse of a tall man with chestnut hair and a bronze circlet worn like royalty. Bronze and bone were preferred items for relics, marking him as a warlock.

His profile came into view just for a heartbeat, and I forgot how to breathe.

“Bram?” I gasped. My eyes had to be deceiving me. “It can’t be . . .”

“You’ve seen him before? How?” Nola asked.

But Bram was a coal delivery man in the Upper Realm. I’d known him for months. He’d visited us every week. What was he doing down here dressed in fine button boots that wouldn’t last a day in a trial and a brocade jacket that belonged on a prince?

He shook hands with a witch from the train, a beautiful woman with dark umber skin and tight, jet-colored ringlets, the curls at her temples shot through with silver. She was the high witch of what appeared to be a modest green coven. Talia, I’d overheard her called, the woman who ran the market.

They smiled at one another in that disingenuous way of the politically-minded, a reserved showing of teeth that didn’t reach the eyes. My fingers tightened into fists that shook, my body recognizing the threat before my muddled mind could catch up.

Bram was a warlock. Not some coal delivery man—never just that. It had all been a lie.

“He was there the day my sister was murdered,” I told Nola, my voice turning breathy. “He visited our shop all the time. I didn’t know he was a warlock. I wouldn’t have . . .”

Nola laid a hand high on my arm, her large palm swallowing up my shoulder. “That’s hard, duck. I’m sorry. Damn. If you’re sure that’s him—”

“It’s him,” I bit out.

“What sort of power would someone need to have to portal between here and the Upper Realm whenever it pleases them?” Nola asked. Then she answered her own question. “God power.”

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