Page 102 of Brimstone
People shouted, leaping out of the way as we hurtled by them.
We had no choice. Nowhere to go. The only option open to us was—
Ting!
“FUCK!”
An iron-tipped arrow ricocheted off the wall next to my head; they were fuckingshootingat us.
“We have to fight!” I shouted. “It’s our only option. But we need somewhere open. Somewhere they can’t pen us in!”
If we kept running through this rabbit warren of streets, we were doomed. Fish in a barrel. It wouldn’t be long before one or all of us wound up shot.
Carrion nodded, quickly assessing our options up ahead. “All right. The square, then. This way. Follow me.”
Ting!
Ting!
Arrows struck the walls.
A woman to my left screamed, a spurt of bright red blood arcing in the air as an arrow intended for my back clipped her throat.
Carrion wheeled to the left. I took up position behind Hayden, using my body as a shield, covering him as best I could. “Faster, Fane. Hurry,” I growled.
“I’m going . . . as fast . . . as I . . . can!”
This way! Come! Find me! This way!
For such a tiny fragment of quicksilver, it certainly had some strength. I found myself veering to the right, my feet carrying me off in a direction I didn’t want to go.
Left.
Right.
Then right again.
My pulse thundered behind my breastbone, my heart beating like a fucking war drum. “If I die in Zilvaren, I amnotgoing to be happy,” I snarled.
The square was large. At its center, a huge wooden platform had been erected. It was covered in sprays of flowers. Pinks, reds, and purples. I saw immediately that they weren’t real. At the center of the podium was a long table, on top of which a line of bodies had been laid out in the baking reckoning suns. Flies choked the air above them, their drone loud enough to hear above the shouting guardians.
“Stop! Stop those men!”
A large group of girls stood on the far side of the square. They were young. Only teenagers. Their eyes were full of fear. Two guardians already stood with them, and one of them had a girl pinned up against the wall. She screamed as a male in a black shirt and pants approached and plunged something into her neck.
The square might not have been a good idea. The buildings were taller here. If any of the guardians made it up there, they would rain holy hellfire down on us. On the other side of the courtyard, the human in black directed the guardian to lay the girl—who was now limp in his arms—on the back of a horse-drawn cart.
Three seconds. That’s all the time we had before the guardians were on top of us and this went to shit. I drew my hands together and pulled them apart, conjuring a swordidentical to Nimerelle in every way but the one that fucking mattered. It wasnota god sword.
“What are they doing here, Carrion?” I called, jerking my chin toward the group of girls.
“It must be cleansing day,” he answered. “Once a month, they come and round up the marked girls who’ve turned fourteen. Seven out of every ten. They’ll sedate them and take them up to the palace.”
My blood ran cold.
Cleansingday.
At least twelve girls stood with their backs to the wall. Most of them were crying. The one at the front of the line wasn’t crying, though. She glowered defiantly at the man dressed in black, as he lifted the cylindrical silver object to her neck. She spat in his face.
