A Curse of Blood & Stone (Fate & Flame 2) - Page 4

And a purpose for being here that I should be wary of. According to Wendeline, the elemental caster spent years studying prophecy with the scribes. She may claim to be here to guide me, but I’d be an idiot to ignore the probability that I am a tool to serve an agenda, one that likely won’t work in my favor.

“As long as you are prepared to answer it with the truth.” Zander echoes my thoughts.

“I have no intention of doing otherwise.”

I note it’s not a promise.

The hollow thud of boat hulls as they buoy over waves tells me we’re nearing the dock. I allow myself the tiniest glimmer of relief that we’ve almost made it to safety.

Zander stops so abruptly that I plow into his rigid body, my hands flying up to his back to brace myself. He may as well be a brick wall, immovable. “Why are there humans at the skiff?”

“They are probably the couple helping us,” Gesine answers. “A woman named Cecily and her husband, Arthur. They are kind.”

“They are fools. They should have made themselves scarce.” His boots land with a dull clunk on a wooden surface. “Watch your step. There’s a drop.”

A vivid image of stumbling into the sea has me faltering. “I can’t see anything,” I remind him in a hiss. Only silhouettes and shadows.

“Experience tells me you’ll refuse my hand, should I offer it.”

My anger flares. “Yeah, well, experience tells me you’ll ditch me the first chance you—”

Strong hands seize my waist, cutting off the acerbic retort. My body tenses, my palms bracing on Zander’s biceps for support as he lifts me off my feet and onto the dock.

“Shouldn’t I be the distrustful one?” His grip lingers for a moment before he steps back.

Another wave of hurt washes over me.

Everythingbetween us has changed tonight.

“Perhaps we could afford a little light?” he murmurs.

Gesine’s globe appears again, a dull sphere floating low to the ground, just bright enough to illuminate the gaps in wood planks.

We rush wordlessly, Zander’s pace brisk enough that I’m nearly running. At the end, next to a boat maybe ten feet long, two people with mops of greasy gray hair bow.

“You should not be here. It’s too dangerous,” Zander says by way of greeting, surveying the nearby boats.

Echoes of “Your Highness” from them prick familiarity. I’ve heard those voices before. My suspicion is confirmed moments later when the couple stands. It’s the woman with the liver-spotted hands and her husband, a man once hobbled by infection. But the cane is gone and when he rushes to unfasten the skiff’s last rope from the dock, it’s with effortless steps.

Gesine holds out a plump velvet purse for Cecily to collect. “Return to your home and say nothing of this to anyone. Your skiff was stolen while you slept.”

“We seen nothin’, my lady.” Cecily secures the purse inside her tattered cloak before her eyes land on me. She hesitates. “We went to the sanctum like ya told us, Your Highness. Priestess fixed my Arthur up good as new. Well, he’s still an old goat, but there be no magic for fixin’ that.”

“I’m glad to see it.” Anguish twinges inside me at the mention of Wendeline. What will she face for her treason to the crown? Does she deserve it? If only I could see her again and demand she explain why.

“To the docks!” a soldier bellows, and my fear spikes. The army is closing in.

“We cannot delay another second, for all our sakes,” Gesine warns, urging, “Go now!” to the couple.

Cecily grabs hold of my hand, squeezing it tightly. “May we see you again, in your rightful place on the throne.” Collecting a small lantern, the couple huddles together and rushes toward land.

“May I see you again too,” I whisper after them. Somewhere beyond the shanties, metal pounds against cobblestone. The soldiers are running.

Elisaf and Zander have already climbed into the skiff and grabbed the oars. I clamber in behind them, my entrance inelegant and noisy. Gesine uses her leg to push us off before she settles near the bow.

My pulse thrums in my throat as Zander and Elisaf propel us into the night with powerful strokes, my attention locked on the dark shoreline, the lanterns offering little light. Beyond, farther up, the castle glows orange, its imposing outline a murky shape against the sky.

“Do you think Abarrane got out?” We left the commander of the Legion and her elite warriors behind to face an entire army.

Tags: K.A. Tucker Fate & Flame Fantasy
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