Page 53 of Jeweler to the Blessed
“Very good.” Vaddon wasn’t a particularly tall man, but his steps were brisk. He had a cold efficiency that, in another life, I might have respected.
We were at the massive castle doors before I got my bearings.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Vaddon stormed off as quickly as he’d arrived.
This seemed too easy. I stared down the steps, wondering if I should worry. I glanced from side to side. Nothing had gone my way for the last two days, so maybe—just maybe—Alaric’s goddess was finally sending some luck my way. With a final check over my shoulder, I descended the staircase.
The streets were easy enough to navigate so early. I arrived at Alaric’s workshop quickly. My fingers flexed, thinking about touching the familiar books in his storage room. I wasn’t focused on my surroundings as I pulled the key from my pocket.
Unfamiliar hands grabbed me, pulling me toward the alley. I panicked. My leg kicked back, and my hand reached for thedagger at my hip without thought. As my foot met my attacker’s groin, I turned and slammed the blade into their shoulder.
They grunted in pain, and the hood fell back, revealing his face, as I pulled the dagger out and pushed myself away. My hands shook. I didn’t recognize him as he fell to his knees. Before I could look up, another pair of boots appeared beside the man I’d just dispatched. My breaths came faster as I realized there were others.
I couldn’t release a scream before another attacker lunged.
Swiping again with my blade, I ran.
Screaming wouldn’t help. No one would stop to help. This city didn’t take care of its own. If I survived this encounter, I’d remind myself how stupid it was to leave the castle without a guard, even if I currently doubted mine.
I sprinted down a side street, cutting south. Maybe I could lose them. But just like the night of the festival, my access off the side street was blocked. Another group of men and women stood there, arms crossed, waiting.
“It’ll be easier if you come with us.” A woman held a knife in her hand and leaned against the wall. She seemed unconcerned that I was armed and even less concerned I would do any damage with my single weapon.
I turned to run back the way I’d come, but the Cross Street entrance was filled with those who pursued me.
This was it. My heart thudded in my chest. They were going to take me. My knuckles turned white as I regripped the dagger with determination. The least I could do was take a few of them with me. I angled myself to see both sets of attackers and stepped back. The stone wall of the building greeted me. I had nowhere to go.
“Put down the dagger, and we’ll make this painless,” a man with dark hair and a beard said.
I shook my head, unable to find words to respond.Scanning the group, I didn’t recognize anyone from the last encounter at the festival. Were there really so many of the Feared?
As much as I sympathized with their rationale, it was my life they were targeting. I wouldn’t let it go so easily. My jaw clenched, and I lifted my blade as I readied for whoever came at me next.
“Fucking Chaos.”
The voice should be the last one I wanted to hear, but I couldn’t remember why. My shoulders almost sagged in relief as Hart came into view.
His sword was out, and anger radiated from every inch of his body. Something dripping from the sword caught my eye … Blood?
“Anyone else?” Hart asked. A body lay at his feet, unmoving.
Efficient, I thought, as my heart still raced.
My attackers appeared unconvinced. The ones who blocked my path took slow steps toward me, and those closest to Hart readied for a fight.
“So be it,” Hart grumbled.
Our gazes held across the attackers. He nodded in reassurance even as he looked like he would strangle me himself. The next swing of his sword dropped another attacker. The man screamed in pain, but Hart was already stabbing another.
I dragged my attention from Hart’s brutal progress. The woman against the wall lunged. I slashed with my dagger, but she dodged. My pulse raced again as she grabbed my arm. I hadn’t even checked if they were Blessed. No magic prickled my neck. I felt no pull, no attempt to take, as she wrapped her arms around me, jostling my protective layer of clothing. I kicked and flailed my head back, striking her face. My arm broke free, and I sliced through the air again with my dagger.
Someone else grabbed me. The man’s hand wrapped around my exposed wrist. Still unsure if they were Blessed, the direct contact drove me to panic. They were going to take me—going to kill me. I couldn’t look up, couldn’t see where Hart was. The idea that he could fight off a dozen people alone was laughable. Why hadn’t I doubted it earlier?
I didn’t want to die. Fear shook my body.
The man’s hand released. A scream broke from his lips. He fell to the ground, clutching the sides of his head in agony. The pose was familiar, but I didn’t have time to consider it much as Hart’s blade slid into his chest.
Then, Hart’s eyes met mine, searching. “Alright, Emberline?”
