Page 92 of Mistress of Bones
The certainty of this conclusion calmed the rage in her veins. Azul would check these bones, then she would end the Emissary of the Lord Death.
And after… Ah yes, why not? Afterward, she would simply step into the pit to join Isadora and the gods.
It’d be easier than trying to figure out who Azul del Arroyo was without Isadora by her side, why she existed, and why her heart didn’t seem to do anything but break.
The first corridor led nowhere interesting. Her sense of bones was stronger this deep, away from the city, and so close to the Anchor, but not focused enough. The second corridor proved to be of more use, forking deeper into a web of tunnels and rooms. These were blocked by doors that looked like they hadn’t been opened in years. Ahead, they could see the warm glow of lamplight across a bend in the tunnel. Carefully, Esparza placed their own lamp on the floor and waited to see Enjul’s next move.
Enjul addressed Azul in a low voice: “Can you tell how many?”
She glared, disgusted. “No. That’s not how it works.”
“Chance a look.”
Why her? She didn’t ask, for it mattered little, so she simply did. And after she did, a hiss escaped her.
“Two men guarding a door,” she whispered. “Living corpses. Necromancer’s victims,” she corrected herself.
“Excuse me?” asked Esparza.
Enjul ignored him. “We need to get inside, then.”
“Is that some sort of secret order?” Esparza asked. “The living corpses?”
Enjul assessed him, then said, “Get us inside, guard. Use your blue tabard to send them away. It’s best if they don’t see us.”
Esparza hesitated, clearly torn between giving in to his curiosity and bristling at the emissary’s tone. In the end, he simply shrugged and muttered, “Ah well, this—my lot in life.”
Sauntering, he rounded the corner. “Blessed Noche Verde, folks.”
“Stop,” said a voice. “These are restricted quarters.”
“I’m under official City Guard orders. I need you to step away while I conduct my business.”
“Stop,” another repeated, “upon penalty of death.”
Esparza snorted, plenty familiar with the threat. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
“You have no power here, Blue Bastard. Go back outside.”
A pause, then the noise of scuffling. Enjul, mouth tight in a grim line, rounded the corner to join him, Azul right behind. Esparza had twisted one guard’s arm around his back so the man couldn’t reach his rapier, and was using him as a shield against the other guard, who had produced a pistol.
“Couldn’t have warned me about that?” Esparza asked of Azul.
“I didn’t see—” Azul winced as Enjul landed a blow on the second guard’s arm, forcing him to drop the pistol.
The first guard twisted his free arm to try to rake Esparza’s face. Grunting, Esparza leaned backward. The guard finished the turn and jerked his arm free, then reached for his rapier. Esparza landed a fist on his jaw, sending him staggering to the wall. A punch to his stomach followed, and then another finishing blow to his temple. The guard fell to the floor, unconscious.
Esparza turned to help Enjul with the other guard, but there was no need—the emissary had dealt with his foe by impaling his guts with his sword, then twisting it home.
The guard fell, gurgling and convulsing, specks of blood splattering the ground.
“Gods!” Esparza had gone pale. “There was no need for death.”
“They were already dead,” Enjul said simply, sinking his sword into the other guard’s chest.
Esparza jumped away. “Well,nowyou’ve made sure.”
The emissary cleaned his sword on the guard’s clothing and returned it to its sheath. Kneeling by the door, he started to work on the lock. Esparza eyed him warily, moving until he was between him and Azul.
