Page 112 of A City of Flames

Lorcan stares at his palm for a few seconds more before he tugs at the reins, and the horse gallops past the trees.

She would fight to win.

Darius’s words whisper in my head, and the speed of the horse’s hooves clapping on the ground causes my hair to wave behind me with the brisk air.

I shut my eyes then open them up to the moon glistening in silver starlight.

I choose to fight.

And I will make sure to win at all costs.

* * *

The streets fill up with people parading and spilling their ale on the ground while Freya and I push through. After the queen made the public announcement this morning about Darius, everyone assumed that it meant all the shifters would soon be captured too.

The irritation of hearing them cheer and shout “hang him!” welled up in my chest. I wanted to explode then and there but Freya had to squeeze my hand for me not to do anything drastic. I’d already tried hard to ignore Lorcan since I arrived back at the barracks—even if part of me struggled to—and with the lack of sleep, one might assume I’m on the verge of collapsing.

“Nara, wait a moment.” Freya tugs at my forearm from behind and I stop to face her. She pants and drops her voice to whisper, “Do you not think informing the shifters of the Golden Thief—I mean Darius’s capture might do more harm than good?”

When I told Freya last night everything that happened, she’d not expected Lorcan to have grown up with him, neither had I, and I’m not sure I can get used to it yet. She also found it hard to grasp why I was so resolute on getting Darius out. I understood her confusion. Darius’s relationship with me went from one extreme to the other. There was no in-between.

In the past I’d have preyed upon this moment. Now, I have to tamp down my anger at the memory of that arrow in his chest.

You’re infuriating, another memory I can’t seem to shake off about him. I draw a sharp breath. “It won’t be long before the news travels back to them.”

“And then what?” She asks, biting her lower lip, worry coating her deep brown eyes. “We wait until the whole city burns down?” My nonresponse makes her raise her brows. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about that.”

I frown. “I’m not.” Well, partly yes it might have been a thought during the early hours of dawn until it became clear I was thinking deliriously. My frown smooths as I sigh. “But I do know who can help us... Leira.”

Freya’s forehead pinches, a few civilians knock into her, and I grab her hand before she can trip. Guiding her towards the entrance of the Draggards I start to explain, “She’s a witch, and for as long as Zerathion has existed, they are known to share a bond—a tether of some sort with shifters. She could perhaps talk to them.”

Freya makes a whimpering sound. “But do we have to go back there? I had this strange sensation last time I was in that room and not to mention commoners all stared at us like they were ready to tie us to a wooden pole and burn us to death!”

Specific, dramatic and the only words that could make me laugh at this moment in time. I cast her an amused look. “And you are someone who I’ve seen shoot arrows at targets with your eyes closed. We wouldn’t be the ones burning to death.”

She sucks in a breath, her obsidian curls plummeting over her shoulders as she kicks at the ground. And as I start dragging her through the cobbled roads, someone yells our names from behind.

It’s not hard to tell who it is when you hear the names “Frey-Frey” and “Ambrose.” Freya and I twist halfway as Rydan taps his foot on the ground, crossing his arms. Link bites at his nails beside him looking half confused and anxious.

“Well then.” Rydan arches a brow. “I have to say you’ve offended us deeply.”

I mimic his facial expression but more the incredulous—what way did I offend you—type.

Rydan coughs, nudging his shoulder against Link’s. Link then stumbles forward and mutters, “I was dragged into this, I’m not entirely sure—”

“Link and I heard that you are the reason the Golden Thief got caught,” Rydan interjects, and a sudden drop occurs in my stomach making the food I’d consumed this morning a gurgling mess. I’d not had time to speak to Rydan or Link, they only knew I’d turned up safe, though I felt far from that. “Do you have any idea how frightening it was to inform everyone of dead bodies in the forests and that after the first search you were missing? Then I come to find out you were with the thief and right now I’m both madly jealous, and—”

“Can we perhaps withhold this conversation for another time?” Freya urges and I can’t agree more.

Rydan slowly raises his chin, and his brows draw inwards. “What are you two up to and why are we—” He gestures a hand between him and Link “—not involved?”

Freya and I side glance at each other, aware that while I’ve mentioned every little detail to her since the day after Noctura, Link and Rydan know nothing. Even with Freya it took me a while to confess and only because I hated how worried she was for me.

I realize though that Link and Rydan’s thoughts on becoming a venator aren’t far off from my views—the recent ones that is.

Restless at the idea time is running out and the trials approaching in less than two weeks, I look over my shoulder then at Link and Rydan. “Do you trust us?”

Link nods vehemently as Rydan dramatically raises his palm. “Ambrose, one day we will be wed, and you will become Nara Alderis of course I trust you despite your murderous tendencies—”

---