Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(74)

“Are you all right?” Alfie asked.

The man looked at him and Luka silently, as if considering the propriety of the answer to Alfie’s question. Then he sighed and seemed to think better of his hesitance. “Alas, you’ll surely hear soon enough, from me or otherwise. I have an urgent message for the king and queen. A pub in the Brim was found littered with bodies this morning. The likes of which I have never seen.” He swallowed thickly as he shook his head at the thought. “I must be off to deliver this message. If you’ll excuse me.” He bowed to each of them again and then the man was gone, dashing away from the stables and toward the palace, his red cape rippling behind him. Alfie could only watch, the thought of that pub searing his mind and thickening his throat.

Though Finn was still shrouded by the vanishing cloak, Alfie could feel waves of tension roiling from where she sat.

Luka looked at him, his eyes shining with concern at the mention of the pub. He seemed to want to say something, and Alfie knew Luka was fighting the urge to ask him to stay, to not risk his life. Instead, Luka shook his head and pressed his lips into a tight line. Alfie could not express how grateful he was for that, because he didn’t know if he could leave if Luka asked him to stay.

Luka cleared his throat and looked pointedly at the spot where Finn sat atop her horse. “Make sure he comes back in one piece.”

A snort came from where she sat atop the saddle, still invisible. “He’s too skinny to break into any more pieces.”

Luka grinned. “I like her.”

Alfie mounted his horse, his head swimming as he pulled himself up. But he kept himself from swaying as he settled on the saddle; he couldn’t let Luka know how much this magic had done to him so far. For all he knew, this was the last time they would see each other. He wanted to say goodbye to Luka, but the word wouldn’t come. Or if that word came, others would follow and he’d drown in it all. He was relieved when Luka beat him to it.

“Later, sourpuss,” he said with a small smile.

Alfie rolled his eyes at the childhood nickname, grinning all the same. “Hasta luego.” With a stone in his throat, Alfie took the reins of Finn’s horse and led it into a trot beside his own as they rode across the palace grounds.

They rode in silence through horse paths carved through the rings for speedy travelers until Alfie finally led them to the gate out of the Pinch, San Cristóbal’s outermost ring, that led out of the city and into the surrounding countryside. Here, fields of sugarcane stretched far into the distance, with only a winding dirt road to interrupt the stretches of green. Luckily, the path was smooth, without climbing hills or rough terrain. It would be an easy enough journey. Until they got there.

In the distance, a little over an hour’s ride away, stood the eyesore that they would infiltrate—the Clock Tower.

There, the sugarcane fields gave way to dry, barren dirt. The land had been salted, made inhospitable to even a tendril of life. On the arid stretch of land, the prison was built in a foreboding tower of adobe brick, exposed to the baking sun and surrounded by a thick moat of water enchanted to boil. It housed only the foulest criminals. Their magic was blocked by written magic carved into their wrists and oral suppressants, making them magically impotent. Worst of all was the meaning behind the prison’s name. The ceiling of the great tower was a clock, its minute hand as long as five men. The clock ticked and tocked deafeningly to remind the prisoners of the endless time they had left in their cells. It was common for prisoners to be driven mad from the merciless clock that glared down upon them, an unstopping, ticking moon. It was a life that Alfie wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. Then Alfie thought of the girl they were going to release from the prison. On second thought, he would wish it upon her.

As the sun dipped closer and closer to the horizon, Alfie’s blood chilled in his veins. They had only six hours to sneak into the prison, get the prisoner out, and trap the magic. It would be an impossible plan if they had days; with only hours it sounded absolutely absurd. Still, they would have to try. The magic’s goal of bringing back Sombra was far too horrific for it to be dealt with slowly. It needed to be captured and banished into the void as soon as possible.

With the city gates disappearing far behind them, Finn removed her hood and took the reins of her horse. They rode at top speed down the curving dirt road slithering through the rustling sugarcane fields like a snake. The adobe brick tower loomed in the far distance, looking like a finger jutting up from the sugarcane to reach for the sky and claim it as its own.

For a long hour they rode too fast to speak, their horses dashing down the flat road side by side. Alfie dug his heels into his horse, urging it on, but when a lather of sweat gathered at the horse’s neck and mouth, he signaled for Finn to slow to a halt.

They slowed to a stop and Alfie dismounted, stroking his horse’s warm nose. The poor thing was exhausted.

“Sorry, Peluche.” Alfie uncorked a canteen of water he’d strapped at the horse’s side and with a twist of his fingers a long ribbon of water flowed out. He carefully funneled ribbon water into the horse’s gasping mouth while Finn watched.

She snorted at him from her saddle. “Of course you would name a horse ‘teddy bear.’”

Alfie moved on to her horse, gathering water before it to drink. “I didn’t name him. My mother did.” His voice softened on mother. He thought of her face when he’d returned to the palace.