We huddled behind a ruin near one of the main avenues into town. The streets were deserted, or at least appeared to be.
“The trough,” I said, not because they were there, but they would all see it.
Jase nodded and pulled back the lever of his launcher. Across the way, behind the trunk of a tembris, Gunner did the same. I raised my fingers. One. Two. Three.
A simultaneous blast exploded the trough, splinters and water spraying through the air, the boom shaking the street and surrounding buildings. A rapid fire was returned—four shots—uncertain where ours had come from. A shower of leaves fell. At least two of the shooters randomly fired into the high branches of the tembris. Jase and I smiled. They were still nervous about a death angel who lurked up there. We changed our positions, moving to a low wall that adjoined the ruin. One. Two. Three.
This time the side of a toolshed disappeared.
Two shots were returned. Shattered stone from a nearby well pelted the wall we hid behind like a fierce hailstorm, and a giant limb of the tembris crashed down, narrowly missing us.
The next time only one shot was returned.
Gunner motioned to me. He was out of ammo. Jase had two shots left.
He fired, taking out the north wall of the smithy. One shot returned.
He fired again, this time taking out the wall of the lumberyard. Pieces of timber flew into the air, spinning madly upward like a startled flock of birds, and then rained down again in a loud, clattering storm. Two mercenaries staggered out, both impaled with long pieces of timber. They fell to the ground, dead. No shots had been returned. We checked their launchers.
They were out of ammo, but so were we.
* * *
Jase signaled our small army. It was time to move in. When we looked back, our forces had grown. Citizens who had fled were coming back, hoes, pitchforks, and clubs in hand.
“Go back with the rear guard,” Jase said to me. “Make sure they—”
“Nice try,” I replied, remaining in step with him.
“You’re a stubborn-ass ambassador,” he grumbled, looking straight ahead as he scanned the street for threats.
“I love you too, Patrei.”
Our eyes constantly moved from skywalks to rooftops to alleyways. They all seemed deserted, but we kept whatever weapons we carried gripped in our hands, ready to use. Synové complained that she felt naked without her bow, thanks to some clumsy oaf who had fallen on it. Mason rolled his eyes, and I gathered he was the clumsy oaf. But other than Wren, none of us had a weapon we were familiar with. We had to make do. The sword I carried was longer and heavier than what I was used to. I made mental adjustments in how I would swing and weight my stance. I rolled my shoulder back when Jase looked the other way. It was still stiff from when it had come out of joint.
“Do you think the rest of them have fled too?” Priya asked, eyeing the empty streets.
“The mercenaries maybe,” Paxton answered. “They had no loyalty to the king. The only stake they had in this was a salary, and they saw that go up in smoke with Tor’s Watch. Plus they have homes to return to. But those from here who switched sides—they have nowhere else to go.”
Like the king. Hell’s Mouth was his gateway to the universe—proof that he was not a nothing king like the father he had murdered. The gods had given all this to him, after all. He would never let it go. It was a legacy he was owed.
As we watched for dangers, we saw a new kind of damage. Windows were broken and businesses pillaged. The mercenaries had squeezed their promised money from the king in another way.
“Montegue!” Jase yelled.
There was no answer.
When we approached the plaza, we braced ourselves for an ambush, but there was none. Only more of the disquieting silence. The plaza was empty. What game was the king playing now?
From an opposite avenue I saw Aleski and Titus leading more citizens with weapons in hand. Our forces had just doubled.
But then from behind me I heard a muffled scream and turned. It was Imara. She was looking up. I followed her gaze into the tembris.
A woman hung from a noose. Her blue dress rippled in the breeze. Her long silver braid shimmered in the sun.
Oleez.
Hot needles burned beneath my skin. I shook my head and dug my fist into my chest like I could stop the pain clawing inside me. No! Groans and cries rose from our army. Curses. Weeping.