Page 116 of Her Cruel Redemption

Draven, still hovering near the door, shifted his weight. ‘When does it leave?’ His voice was hoarse, rougher than usual, and I didn’t know if it was the strain of standing or something else entirely.

Leela tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her expression growing serious. ‘As soon as the tide turns. You’ll need to get to the docks before sunrise and hide aboard before the crew sets sail. The captain won’t ask questions, but that doesn’t mean his men won’t.’

I clenched my fist around the paper. Only a few hours to slip through the city while avoiding the soldiers who would be looking for us and make it down to the docks.

Lester leaned against the shelf he’d been searching and shook the bottle at me. ‘So, you’ll run off, they’ll all think my brother somehow hoodwinked you into it, and despite the bolts of bloody lightning you’ve been flinging around, he gets the title of scapegoat for an entire war and all its misery. What do you think about that?’

I snorted. ‘I think it suits his inflated sense of self-importance.’

Lester laughed, shaking his head. ‘Oh, to be a fly on the wall. I’m half tempted to go with you just to watch it all fall apart.’

‘You’re not coming with us? Surely you’ll be considered a criminal in Port Howl as much as Draven.’

‘Don’t lump me in the same category as him.’ He jerked a thumb in Draven’s direction, who shot an exasperated look to the ceiling. ‘I could have a perfectly respectable reason to be here as part of a brand-new attempt to sit at a negotiating table that’ll likely be a whole lot more successful without you two derailing it.’

‘We couldn’t afford to pay for passage for three,’ Leela interjected. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure we can work something else out for him. No one knows he’s here, so no one is Looking for him yet.’

‘Thank you,’ Draven said quietly. Leela shot a look in his direction, offering a brief nod of her head.

‘But we’d better get moving,’ she continued, stepping to collect the basket we had already rifled through. ‘We’ll go with you to the docks.’

The cellar door creaked as I pushed it open, my heart thudding as I peered out into the alleyway. I held my breath for a moment, scanning the shadows.

‘Stay close,’ Draven murmured, a dark presence at my side. He seemed to hesitate, then his hand slipped around mine. ‘And no magic. No matter what happens.’

‘What if it could save us?’

‘Your body isn’t ready for it. Promise me you won’t try it.’

I nodded, and he released my hand as we slipped into the alley, with Leela and Lester close behind us. We moved quickly, blending into the darkness, the sound of our footsteps swallowed by the narrow streets. When we reached the main road leading to the docks, I risked a quick glance down the street. There was no sign of any guards in our immediate vicinity. I could feel Draven’s tense posture beside me, his eyes constantly flicking around, always on alert. The scent of brine grew stronger, mingling with the stench of the city’s decay, smoky with the reminder of the recent devastation I’d wrought. We were getting closer.

‘This way,’ Leela whispered, motioning us toward another narrow side street.

Moments after we entered it, we were ducking out of it again. The sound of footsteps, the jangle of armour. Firelight dancing across slick walls, warping the shadows of the soldiers advancing in our direction.

‘Move,’ Draven hissed, gripping my wrist. Leela and Lester followed, their footsteps sharp in the quiet.

We rounded a corner and were confronted with a group of dockworkers unloading the night’s catch. I barely stopped myself in time, heart slamming against my ribs. Four men stood by a cart, their lanterns throwing long, flickering shadows over crates of fish. One of them, a grizzled man with salt-crusted sleeves, grunted as he hoisted a crate onto his shoulder. Another wiped his hands on a rag, glancing up at our sudden arrival.

Behind us, the clatter of approaching boots.

‘Keep walking,’ Lester murmured, straightening up and striding forwards with a cocky strut. ‘Evening, lads. Wouldn’t want to be you right now,’ he called, saluting the workers, who scowled at him, but made room for him to step past. The rest of us followed, trying to not look like we were running for our lives. I linked an arm with Leela, as though we were just out for a casual stroll in the middle of the night and refrained from ducking low to get out of sight of the patrol that were moments from passing by.

Behind us, the sound of boots stopped.

‘You there,’ a voice called, with the authoritative ring of a commander.

‘Keep walking,’ Lester hissed without turning around.

‘Step aside. We need to search your wares.’

There was a chorus of grumbling and one of the workers began to protest. The soldier who’d given the order argued back, explaining that there had been an escape from Saltarre’s dungeons and that they were searching the city top to bottom, all while that escapee quickly slipped around a corner and out of sight.

Moments later, we reached the dock. Before us, the Lady of Mercy pulled gently at her moorings, masts skewering the night sky.

Leela sidled up to a door in a warehouse and quietly knocked three times. The pause that followed stretched so taught I thought I would snap. In the gloom of the night we were relatively out of sight, but I could hear voices on the wind, and every few minutes a sailor appeared on the deck of the ship or traipsed up the gangplank.

The door opened, and a tall man in a brass-buttoned coat was revealed. With a grunt, he stepped out of the way, and it was a relief to step out of the open and into the room beyond.

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