Page 70 of The Sorcerer's Thief
If he’ll have me.
“He went this way,” says Cricket, breathless, his grip firm on my hand.
We race out of the building, a legion of guards on our heels, but none of them seems particularly motivated to catch us. Rather they’re putting on a show of the chase. Can’t imagine Tauren pays enough for them to care one way or another, greedy fae that he is.
Outside, the sky is turning gray. It’s nearly sunrise. The salty air cools my face, a welcome freshness after the stale, damp ick of my prison cell.
No time to savor. Cricket is on the hunt.
Tauren runs like a coward without a mage to fight his battles for him. He sprints to the first horse he comes to and jumps astride.
Bad idea.
“Get off her,” yells Cricket.
But Tauren doesn’t listen. He kicks his heels hard against Slinger’s sides.
The old pony squeals, rears up on her hind legs, and bucks like the sand is on fire. She jolts sideways, back legs striking out, and throws her head. Her body contorts in the air, feet slamming the ground in the scramble.
She slings Tauren from her back and prances away, snorting.
Tauren lands hard, the crunch of bone loud in the quiet of the morning.
He lies still.
Deathly still.
Cricket and I approach. The guards hang back. The gulls squawk.
Tauren’s flightless wings are crushed beneath him, and his eyes are closed for the last time. His neck is bent at an unnatural, gruesome angle.
I look away, my stomach churning on itself.
“It’s over,” says Cricket from close to my side.
It’s over.They’re dead.
I breathe out. In. Out. The waves crash. Our lives will go on.
Cricket turns just long enough to snarl at the thugs. The one I recognize from the guard stand holds up both hands and steps back. The others follow suit.
“Bad accident.” Cricket advances on them, covered in blood, the Gatekeeper’s dagger still in his hand. “Wasn’t it? And that’s what you’ll say, won’t you?”
“Sounds about right,” says the man in front. “Bad accident indeed.”
“Too bad the horse got away. A big white one. Right?”
“Right.” The men wander off.
The remnants of the Guild of Dark Waters will never know the truth of what happened here tonight. It’s none of their business. If they have any sense at all, they’ll disband.
Cricket gathers Slinger’s lead, and the two of them stare at me. When I don’t move, they approach.
“Jules. You can have a breakdown later. We need to get out of here before sunup. Come on.”
He’s right. Of course he’s right. What’s wrong with me? I shake myself out of my stupor enough to nod.
Cricket leads us out of town via the kind of back roads and cut-throughs only a true local would be familiar with. Best not to be seen, since we’re both rather ragged and bloody.
