Page 148 of The Eye of the Fifth
Slowly, Kyra lowered her dagger. ‘What’s your name?’
He angled himself slightly, as though to shield her from the Union soldiers pacing behind. ‘Raymond,’ he said, then motioned to the fisherman’s ship in the harbour. ‘You should leave while you still can. They haven’t boarded the ship yet. Get out before they do. Before they realise who you are.’ A guilty look crossed his face. ‘I’m glad you survived the noose. I’m… I’m sorry I did nothing to stop it. But I won’t be able to help you if you get caught this time. I can’t afford to lose this job. For my family.’
She’d been right, then.
‘I don’t want to compromise your position,’ Kyra said quietly. ‘But I can’t leave. I wasn’t lying earlier. I really do have to see Lady Lilion.’
Raymond pursed his lips tightly. ‘Is it really worth the risk?’
‘I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.’
Raymond blew out a breath. ‘Alright,’ he mumbled. ‘I’ll… make something up. I’ll tell them you’re the Lady of Shadow’s new business partner or something. You were right to threaten me with that. No one wants to cross Lilion.’
‘No oneshouldcross Lilion,’ Kyra said darkly. ‘The woman is a cunt.’
‘You’ll have to be quick.’
‘I will.’
‘Good luck.’
Kyra caught his arm, and his eyes locked with hers. Innocent, young, kind eyes. ‘Raymond… thank you. Not just for this, but for that day too. I… appreciated it, even if I never said it. Thank you for showing me kindness. You’re everything the Union should be.’
Had the docks been illuminated by daylight, she was sure she would have seen a blush stain Raymond’s cheeks. He said somewhat sadly, ‘Well, I’m glad you’re alive. Try to stay that way.’
She released him, pulled her hood further over her head, and grinned. ‘I plan on it.’
???
Whatever lie Raymond had spun to allow her to walk freely into the city had worked. No one pursued her, but she stuck to the back alleys she knew so well anyway… just in case.
It seemed her kin from Valfell really had struck fear into the hearts of Avaldale’s people. The curfew was being strictly adhered to, for Kyra spotted none but the Union roaming the main streets. House shutters were firmly closed, dramatic bolts had been fastened on doors, and a certain darkness shrouded the city, as if people were too afraid to even light a fire in their own homes.
So, the fae had gotten their magic back and chosen vengeance for the century and a half of banishment at the hands of the humans. Kyra wasn’t altogether surprised: the fae lived long lives. They did not forgive. Nor would they forget.
Despite being shunned by her kin for being ‘spawn of a traitor’ as her great grandfather had so lovingly put it, Kyra couldn’t blame them. If she were amongst them, she was sure she would have been leading the pack, torch in hand, igniting the fires of revenge.
A thought struck her. What had become of her estranged family? Of Win, Dovella and Aeliah?
She suppressed the rising worry. Oslan first. Everything else later.
The eerie quiet downtown was unsettling. Surrounding the Arc were three or four taverns, and at this hour, the cackling laughter of mindless drunks should have rang through the air, the patrons mindlessly touching one another and dancing to the beat of a bard’s drum, or the pluck of a twangy riq.
Kyra had always somewhat envied them. The poorer Vrethans who bore no titles, who ate and drank and fucked to their hearts desire with little to no consequence.
It was a freedom she’d never had. Even more so now with the earth and sun tethered to her soul.
The Arc stood before her, just as glorious as it had been the last time she’d seen it. Except now, across the marble archway that led to the pits below, were the words ‘WE REMEMBER’smeared in thick red paint.
As she neared, rusty iron filled her nostrils.
It wasn’t paint.
Human blood. A threat. The fae weren’t just tormenting the city for fun… they were warning Avaldale of what was to come. A bloody, ominous warning that they had not forgotten, smeared on the most ancient city dwelling of their forebears.
The Arc had been theirs, once. A place of glory. Not of depravity and sin as it was now.
Or used to be, she supposed. When she reached the pits, she found them empty, noting that the blood staining the sand wasn’t fresh. The last fight had to have been some time ago.
