Page 4 of Veiled Fate
Kiel snatched a handful of clothes and tossed them at the youthful shifter, then kicked the table at him. The man went sprawling backward in a heap.
“Sorry,” I said as we snatched up some pants and shirts, hoping they would fit. “We didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Calli damn you both!” he snapped, trying to get to his feet in time.
Kiel’s shoulders twitched at the oath, but neither of us slowed as we went through the tent and out the other side, emerging into a slim gap between merchants. We quickly changed.
My outfit was a bit baggy, and Kiel’s shirt was tight, but it fit. His pants, however, were far too short, coming halfway down his shins.
“You look ridiculous,” I giggled, unable to help myself.
“Nobody has to hear about this,” he growled as we set off. “Ever.”
“Oh, of course not,” I said. “I promise.”
He looked over his shoulder at me with a mock glare. The laughter bubbling up died a swift death as his eyes widened in alarm at something behind me.
I spun to see what it was.
“Shit.”
Two guards had noticed us and were charging after us. Over the commotion of the market, I detected other voices rising as the rest of the guards honed in on the racket.
“We should run,” Kiel said.
“I agree,” I said, following in his footsteps as we took off, trying to get to the end of the tents and the street. We might be able to lose ourselves in the crowd, at least long enough to regroup and figure out the best way to get out of our predicament. If there was one.
Kiel came to a halt so suddenly I slammed into his back hard enough to bruise my nose. Tears sprang to my eyes automatically as I swore.
“What the hell?” I hissed, grimacing in pain. “Why did you stop?”
“Because,” Kiel said heavily, “we’re trapped.”
Chapter Three
Ipeered around Kiel’s broad shoulders, one of my hands on his back. His muscles were taut, the tension practically thrumming through his body at the sight of a trio of soldiers waiting for us at the other end.
Their weapons were out, and their knees were bent, ready for anything. Silvery-steel swords waved back and forth slowly, like hungry predators waiting to attack, eager to draw first blood. Or last. Fierce grins stretched across the awaiting faces, confident in the knowledge that they had us cornered, unable to run.
“Which way?” I asked.
“No good options, are there?” Kiel mused.
Behind us, halfway between both sets of guards, the young clothing merchant burst out through the seams of his tent, still wielding his fabric cutter as a sword. Upon seeing the soldiers closing off both entrances to the little alleyway, he came to a sharp stop. Alarm flashed through his eyes as he swiftly retreated. At the last moment, a smug smile could be seen, and then he was gone.
“Arrogant prick,” I grumbled just as the nearest set of guards came toward us, single file.
Behind us, the blocking force stood still, waiting, eager smiles betraying the anticipation of their prey being driven into their arms.
“So, uh, any brilliant plans?” I asked. “I don’t particularly feel like going back to jail.”
“I haveaplan,” he said. “It’s brilliancy or stupidity will depend entirely on one thing.”
“And what’s that?” I asked as the soldiers drew nearer with each passing second, their steps slow and measured, weapons held out in front. They were taking no chances.
“Whether or not it succeeds.”
“That’s not funny.”
