Page 94 of Heart of Shadows

“We really don’t have a choice, Harper. Sooner or later, they’re going to find us up here. If we’re not gone…” He left the rest to her imagination.

“All right. If you’re sure,” she replied, swallowing her nerves. She nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”

Brand opened his arms wide for her to come to him.

“Please don’t drop me,” she whispered as she leaned into his chest.

His laugh rumbled through him as his arms closed around her, firm and strong. He lifted her with ease and turned to hop onto the parapet. Harper squeezed her eyes shut, clamped down on the rising nausea that threatened to overwhelm her, and clutched onto Brand’s clothing. It was still not enough.

The door slammed open behind them, crashing into the stone wall. Brand wheeled around.

“You!” he snarled and crouched into a defensive position. One armed, he shifted Harper behind himself and drew his blade with his free hand.

Dimitrius stood before them, his hands up and magic balling at his fists in the face of the giant angry Aerian. Then he spied Harper. Their eyes locked. And the spymaster’s magic guttered out. Silence hung between them.

“If you’re going to attack, do it now before I make the first move, elf,” Brand snarled, but Dimitrius’s eyes did not leave Harper.

71

HARPER

“Do you have the stone?” Dimitrius asked. He was unreadable, as inscrutable as ever, but those violet eyes of his burned with an intensity she wished she understood. Was he furious at her for taking a chance to escape?

“Yes,” she replied, raising her chin defiantly.

To her surprise, his shoulders slumped, that proud, tall stance of him folding ever so slightly. “Good. Go do some good with that.”

Harper frowned. “You aren’t going to fight us? Take it?” Because that was the truth of it. She had seen him at work. If he wanted that stone back, it was as good as his.

“No,” he murmured.

She stepped around Brand. He placed a warning hand on her arm, but she shook it off and strode to Dimitrius. “What do you want? I don’t understand.”

For the first time since she had met him, he seemed lost for words. Something hidden flickered through his eyes, and for a moment, when his lips parted, she thought she would get an honest answer. However, his impassive mask slid on once more, and the heat left his gaze. “What I want is none of your concern, Harper.”

His tone was so cold it sent a bolt of hurt through her. It stung—but it helped too. She straightened too and stepped back. She had been right to leave. She did owe him nothing. This was business and absolutely no feelings involved. She had served whatever purpose he needed, and he? She steeled herself. He had helped her survive. She needed him for nothing else. Wanted him for nothing else.

“Leave now,” Dimitrius said, much to Harper’s surprise, “and do not return. They’re coming, and I cannot be seen letting you escape.”

The mask slipped once more, and his eyes burned into hers with such an intensity, she was lost for words for a second. “I don’t under?—”

He stepped forwards, into her space, and his hand found her shoulder. Large, warm, and solid, his grip anchored her in place. “You need to leave. I don’t know how you connect to any of this—to the Dragonheart, to Saradon, to me, but you are a danger to everything I have built, and if you stay, you are as good as dead if Toroth finds you. Sharp teeth or not, he will destroy you, little huntress.”

And I do not want that, his violent gaze screamed at her. Or did she imagine it? Because at last, he broke the intoxicating eye contact between them, and his attention snapped over her head, to the hulking warrior behind her.

“Go! They are coming. Take her!” Dimitrius snarled at Brand, who needed no other encouragement. Dimitri stepped back as Brand wound an arm around her waist and tugged her towards him. Harper let him, turning only to step onto the parapet. She took a shuddering breath as the Aerian clutched her tightly against the rock hard plane of his chest—some small reassurance in the face of the death-defying freefall she was about to face.

She locked eyes with Dimitrius as he stood, fists clenched, by that door. Watching her. Making no move to stop them. Brand leapt backwards, wrenching her with him. He plunged them into the abyss, severing the moment. Harper knew she had left her stomach behind with Dimitrius as they dropped like a stone, picking up speed. Her scream was lost to the wind, her questions too. He let us go. Why did he let us go?

Harper opened an eye just a crack. The grey-blue of the mountain rushed past them, making her stomach churn. Brand’s wings cocooned around them, then snapped wide open. It felt like they had hit the ground, such was the force in his movement, but they quickly changed direction, wheeling out over the city. He hugged the edge of the mountain, his feathers almost brushing the stone.

Harper caught sight of the city rushing by and clung to Brand with a terrified squeak. She had never been good with heights, but this was too far. Brand’s arms felt secure, yet they were so high, and he shook with every gust of wind that buffeted them, constantly adjusting course. He knew what he was doing, but to her, it felt like the very air itself might knock them from the sky.

Brand dove again. Harper’s stomach left her once more as they dropped even lower, racing across the roofs that had been a patchwork quilt far below them minutes before. Now they were a shadow faster than the wind, crossing before anyone could see them.

“Why are we flying so low?” Harper dared to ask. “We’ll be seen!”

“Not down here. People look to the sky, see a shadow, and know it is an Aerian. They will not see us now. We pass too low to the ground. The dragons will not think to look down, either. They also look to the skies.” She hoped he was right. “No more talking. The dragons of the Winged Kingsguard have keen senses. My wings are quiet, but our mouths are not.”

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