Page 118 of Realm of Thieves

“They have a dragon and they’ve been feeding people to it,” I explain, adjusting the old man on my back and nodding at the cages. I’m thrilled she has the egg but I don’t have time to take it in.

She gasps and runs over to them, taking out her lock-picking device and hastily undoing each cage.

“We need to get out of here,” Kirney says, reaching over and removing the man’s blindfold and gag. “Excuse me, sir, how do we get out of here? Is there another way?”

The man sputters, clearly shocked.

“Down there,” one of the women says after Brynla removes her gag and blindfold before untying the rest of her. She brushes her unruly mint-green hair from her face and points at the other side of the keep at another door. “Sometimes people come from that door,” she says.

“Good, can you help me undo the others?” Brynla asks the woman.

The woman nods and Kirney runs over to them. In seconds, the remaining prisoners are free.

“Let’s go!” I yell, and we start running for the door. I kick it down without bothering with the lock and we find ourselves in another passage, this one sloping on an incline to the surface.

“This is where they brought us through,” the woman says. “I had been sentenced by the Black Guard for saying something blasphemous and instead of jail or a hanging, they brought me here.”

“Did you know this would happen?” Brynla asks her, huffing behind me.

“No,” she says. “There’s already a monthly sacrifice to the Midlands. I never heard of this happening beneath the convent.”

“They called the dragon Magni,” I say. “Do they think it’s the sorcerer?”

“Yes,” the woman says breathlessly. “They believe it’s Magni in his true form.”

“And you?” Brynla asks her.

“I think they’re full of shit,” she says.

Finally I see faint light up ahead, the outline of a door, and we burst through it into a space filled with filtered light, the air heavy with the smell of hay and manure. It’s disorienting for a moment, until I realize we’ve come out into a stable, a row of stalls with horses, with a carriage parked outside, two horses attached and nibbling on hay scattered on the sandy ground. This wasn’t something we were counting on—we thought Vidar, Raine, and Feet would be back here by now under the disguise of the Black Guard—but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Everyone in the carriage!” I yell. Everyone runs forward out of the barn and I climb up onto the driver’s seat with Kirney beside me, Brynla and Lemi staying in the coach with the rest of the freed prisoners.

I clack my tongue and snap the reins, and the horses rear in surprise before thundering across the desert. I keep coaxing them, glancing over my shoulder at the convent, the dark mass of a castle as it rises from the stark desert floor, like a blight on the land. So far no one has emerged in pursuit of us, giving us a head start.

It isn’t until we’ve passed through a narrow gorge, the east gate of Lerick on the horizon, flanked by dragon statues, that a Black Guardsman bursts out from a row of sagebrush and comes galloping from around the corner, heading straight for us.

“Vidar!” I yell at the quickly approaching guard, his black steed, the same breed as Onyx, moving faster than any horse should. Even if the guardsmen aren’t using suen, it’s apparent their horses are.

“Vidar! Belfaust! Raine!” Kirney hollers at him. “Raise your hand if it’s you!”

The guardsman raises his mace instead, swinging around thespiked ball, about to aim it at our horses. With his other hand he raises the shield of his helmet, showcasing a pale man with red eyes underneath.

“Oh fuck, not them,” I say, trying to maneuver the horses out of the way.

But the guardsman keeps coming, letting go of the reins, a sword in the other hand now, almost upon us.

He’s about to let the mace go when suddenly he’s hit with something, right between the eyes, like a tiny arrow, and he falls backward off the horse, left in a heap in the dust.

“What the fuck was that?” I yell, passing the reins to Kirney while I stare behind me, the guardsman writhing in the sand while his horse runs off in another direction.

Suddenly Brynla pops her head out of the carriage, grinning at me, her purple hair having come loose from her braids and flowing behind her.

I don’t think she can get any more beautiful.

“I stole more than an egg from the Harbringer,” she says proudly. “A miniature poisoned arrow.”

I stand corrected. She’s now the most beautiful sight in the world.

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