Page 71 of City of Stone and Silence

Our luck runs out. A squad of Ward Guard rounds the corner, uniformed and carrying spears. Their officer gestures, and they break into a run.

Still no Garo. My skin is already hot, but I reach out with Kindre again, sending a wave of power against their minds. I find fear there, suppressed under the discipline of camaraderie and orders, but still present, and I pull it out and bring it to full flower. A river of fear flows down the street, almost visible as a shimmer in the air.

The soldiers stop in their tracks, spears clattering to the ground. Then they run, consciousness submerging in the torrent of horror. The bystanders join them, my power terrifying and indiscriminate. I don’t know how long they’ll keep running, but for now the street is empty.

Almost. A lone solder remains, a woman, her eyes wide with terror, but apparently rooted to the spot. I give her another push, power crackling across my skin, leaving welts and burns. With a scream, she runs, but forward, directly toward me.

Panic, I realize, is unpredictable. She still has her spear, and she lowers it like a lance, aiming directly at me. I back up as far as I can, against the wall of the ruined building, then shift sideways at the last minute as she charges home. It’s not fast enough, and I feel the tug as my sleeve tears. No pain, not yet, just a numb tingle in my arm and the feeling of warm blood running across my skin.

The spear embeds in the plaster, and the maddened Ward Guard can’t get it loose. I try to slip sideways, and she abandons the weapon, reaching for me with her bare hands, her eyes wild. I grab her right arm, pushing it wide, but my other hand won’t respond. Her fingers curl around my throat, and she pins me against the wall with a yell.

I’m calm. That’s the strangest thing. I’m calm. I wonder if this is how Isoka feels, when she faces some criminal in a dark alley. Isoka has Melos blades, though, and armor, a supernatural powerhouse few can match. Whereas my power, clumsily applied, has produced this berserker, and I have no weapons but—

—a dagger, on the woman’s hip.

I can’t breathe.

I grab for the dagger with my good hand. It comes free of its sheath, and I nearly fumble it. The guard doesn’t even notice, both hands around my throat now, squeezing hard. She’s still screaming. I scream back, or try to, as I bring the knife up, slashing into her belly. She grunts at the first strike, but her grip doesn’t slacken, so I stab her again and again, until the dagger gets stuck between her ribs.

I must pass out for a moment, because the next thing I know Garo is rolling the slack corpse off of me. I’m covered in blood, and I don’t know how much of it is my own. My skin is boiling, and the world rolls and shudders around me.

“Tori!” His voice is distant. “Tori!”

My eyes close. I really would have liked to kiss him, I reflect, as I sink into darkness.

14

ISOKA

This time, there are only four of us leaving the ziggurat.

There’s no question of Meroe staying behind, of course. We’re going to talk to the Minders, and I want her at my side for that, just as I’d want Zarun with me in a fight. Besides, if I tried to make her stay, she’d probably just punch me again.

Zarun himself is coming, too, both to give us a little backup and for his knowledge of the Jyashtani language. And Jack accompanies us as far as the base of the ramp, then steps aside with an elaborate bow.

“Fare well, bold travelers,” she says. “I hope to see you again ’ere I return.”

“Good luck,” I tell her. “Be careful.”

“Clever Jack is always careful. And handsome. And clever.” She grins. “I will find the Lady Shiara and inform her of your plans.”

“Thank you,” Meroe says.

Jack bows again, then turns and jogs off around the building. We strike out in the opposite direction, heading for the third of the great ziggurats, the one occupied by the Minder monks.

I find myself watching the woods with considerably more anxiety than on my first trip, even though it’s early and we’re not going anywhere near Prime’s domain. His monsters don’t usually move about in the day, but that doesn’t mean never. He wants my power, and I don’t intend to give him an easy shot at it.

Zarun, too, seems jumpy. He argued for bringing more fighters with us, but Meroe and I agreed that it wouldn’t help. If the Minders attack us, a few more crew won’t stop them, and we certainly don’t want to attack them. And, as long as we’re careful, he and I should be able to handle a few walking corpses.

Meroe, by contrast, looks around with the wide, fascinated eyes of a little girl, staring at every colored bird that breaks through the foliage. She laughs when we run across more monkeys—they have those in Nimar, apparently, but not the long-billed, bright green birds that Zarun says are similar to some he’s seen from southern Jyashtan. Meroe has an eye for flowers, too, which she finds everywhere—on the ground, growing from vines wrapped around trees, hanging from delicate tendrils in midair. I have to pull her onward before she starts investigating.

“So have you thought about what you’re going to say to them?” Zarun says. “They seemed pretty emphatic about wanting us to join their order if we were going to make an alliance.”

“I don’t need an alliance,” I tell him. “Just a one-time deal. They’re threatened by Prime and his monsters, too.”

“Maybe. Harak didn’t seem too concerned.”

I pause, looking sideways at him. “Can I ask an obvious question?”