Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)(72)

Then I let go, relaxing my arms and bending my knees as I braced myself for the ground.

I landed on the balls of my feet and fell to the right. The impact sent me back against the building’s wall. I caught the worst of the impact in my arm. It saved me from a broken back, but from the pain in my lower body and the shooting pain in my wrist, I wasn’t sure I hadn’t fractured my arm in the fall.

But now I had to run.

The guards were calling to others over the noisy square. They weren’t going to jump like I did; they were racing back to that first alley with the crates.

I limped my way to the front and scanned the crowd for the three angry men from before. I couldn’t find them anywhere.

Good.

It was time to make my break for the woods.

I was barely three yards from the King’s Road when someone’s cry broke the crowd.

“The rebel!”

Someone had recognized me.

“It’s her!”

And then one of the men from before yelled, “Catch that thief, boys!”

I had no choice. They knew who I was, so there was no point hiding my magic now. I cast a globe and started to run.

A terrible pain shot up my thigh as I lunged.

Behind me, the crowd was starting to break. Stones ricocheted against my shield.

Come on, Ryiah, run! But my limp was getting worse and the crowd was closing in.

“King killer!”

“Murderer.”

I was running, but it wasn’t enough. In seconds, I was surrounded.

A mob of angry villagers crowded around with the soldiers at the front.

Can I cast and buy myself enough time to run? That should have been the only question on my mind, but there was another, more pronounced: king killer?

Someone’s blade jabbed at my globe. I flinched instinctively, and the bandage broke at my thigh. Hot blood slicked down the side of my leg.

The mob pressed in, their rage beating down on me like a drum. I was safe, my casting would hold. But for how long? Angry chants and more rocks hit the barrier, one by one.

Panic tugged at my gut. There were close to thirty angry villagers. I could cast, but what would it cost me? Could I go on knowing the price it would reap?

I couldn’t take that many lives, not when the crowd’s only crime was a misplaced faith in the Crown.

“Someone get me some shackles and send an envoy to Devon. The reward will be enough to rebuild the entire village and feed our families for years.”

I couldn’t attack the crowd. They were only doing what was best.

The ground shifted and groaned. I barely had time to catch myself before I fell.

What…?

When I looked up, all I could see was smoke. The globe separated me from the fumes, but I couldn’t see anything beyond it. All I heard were screams.

And that’s when the first person slammed the side of my shield.

And then another.

I watched, horrified, as another slid down the side of my sphere, their hands and mouth trailing blood as they collapsed to the dirt.

I had no idea what was happening. All I knew was it was everywhere else—everywhere but me.

There were so many screams.

I should have reacted. I should have cast something to help, but I was numb. I didn’t know who or what the person was casting, and all I could think was that he had finally caught up to me. Was it him? I wasn’t sure I could fight.

I wasn’t sure I should.

Then the screams stopped. A woman’s hysterical laugh rose above the din. Smoke was still clearing, but from what I could see…

My casting faltered from the horror in my chest.

A ring of dead villagers surrounded my feet. The cobblestones ran red with their blood.

A hovering dagger appeared at my throat.

“There she is. Wanted alive.” A familiar voice spat the last word with venom. Mira. Blayne’s right hand. “The king sends fifty sniveling men and demotes me to a guard.” She snorted. “And look which one of us finally caught up to his elusive little rebel after all.”

I couldn’t speak. Horror still flooded my chest—not for my sake, but the thirty others in the street.

“This,” Mira added, “should change his mind.”

“Did Blayne promote your brother instead?” My rebuttal was weak. I was stalling, trying to buy myself time to think. Darren wasn’t here; it was just her. “Marius always was the better mage.” The blade twitched, and I swallowed as it scraped against skin. “Blayne must have finally figured that out.”

Everyone knew Marius had been King Lucius’s favorite. It was a sore spot for the jealous sister. She’d had to team up with the king’s heir to finally gain recognition.

The mage didn’t react as I’d hoped. “You haven’t heard.” Her lips curved up in a merciless slant. “Well, this is a treat.”

My pulse thundered in my ears.

“Blayne,” she declared, watching my face, “is dead. The palace healers were incompetent. He was gone before sunrise the night you escaped.”

But that means… My stomach dropped. I could be a king killer and there could still be a king.

Blayne had a successor.

The one person who was never supposed to wear the crown.

“The new king is the one who ordered the bounty on your head.” Mira continued on with a hint of glee. “You are to be his example to the rest.”