Gates of Thread and Stone(13)

Everything slowed again. Behind me, Avan and the guard grappled. My fingers wrapped around the neck of Joss’s fallen liquor bottle. I brought it up in an arc just as time rushed forward. The bottle shattered against the guard’s head. Glass spewed through the air, so rapidly that the shards looked like an explosion of lights.

Pain sliced through my cheek. I whirled, diving for cover as a crash rang out behind me. I’d managed to knock out the guard.

I remained where I was, breathing hard. My body trembled. Warm hands gripped my arm. The touch was gentle, but I flinched anyway as Avan helped me to my feet. He peered down at me, his fingers sweeping along my bruised jaw and brushing glass out of my hair. I shuddered again, but for a different reason.

“Kai, did you—” He looked from me to the men sprawled on the floor.

The way he spoke my name, combined with the look in his eyes—intense, questioning, uncertain—made me realize. He’d seen it. He’d felt it.

I couldn’t deal with that right now. I reached for my bag, ready to run. “Why did you follow me?”

A strangled gasp came from the hall. We both looked to find a woman gaping down at the mess on the floor, her hand pressed to her barely covered cleavage.

“Come on,” Avan said, touching my waist.

“You’re Reev’s sister?” the woman whispered.

I gave her a closer look. She was young, with hair as smooth and white as milk. My skin was pale, but hers was ivory. Her only spots of color were a black streak through her hair and bright-red lips that shone wetly, as if she’d painted them with blood.

Her eyes were like polished metal, framed by snowy lashes. She looked familiar. Maybe I’d seen her here before. But I was pretty sure I’d remember.

I crossed the lobby, stepping over the glass. The woman shied away, her gauzy robe fluttering around her thighs. Her hands braced against the wall, and her long hair shielded her face.

“Did you see what happened to him? Or where they took him?” I asked.

She kept her face averted. I studied her delicate profile. She probably made Joss a lot of credits.

“Reev,” she murmured.

I didn’t like the way she said his name. Like a plea. Like a wish. Was every prostitute here in love with him?

“He didn’t talk much, but he didn’t treat me like spoiled meat.”

My nails dug into my palms. I knew how much my brother was worth. “Did you see what happened to him or not?”

“Yes,” she whispered to the wall. “There were people. . . . They moved like shadows. They drove something metal against the back of his neck and”—a shiver ran through her thin arms—“and he seized up. Passed out. They took him.”

I couldn’t breathe. I stepped back clumsily, glass skidding beneath my boots. My foot bumped Joss’s leg, and I glared down at him. He was still knocked out. Fury blazed beneath my skin. I should throw him in the riv—

“Kai.” Avan touched my side. His fingers curved against my ribs.

I jerked away. If this woman liked Reev so much, she should’ve done something to help him. “Do you know who they were? Did you see the Black Rider?” I asked her.

“I didn’t see any faces, but I think I know someone who might know something.” She bit her lip. “Wait for me.”


She disappeared down the hall, her feet silent on the dingy wood.

I looked at Avan. He surveyed the bodies on the floor. Probably thinking the same thing I was: they wouldn’t be out for much longer.

“Do you think they’re telling the truth? That the Black Rider is real?” For the longest time, I had scorned that name. It had been nothing but a pathetic joke. Now, I didn’t know what to think. People who moved like shadows?

“We could wake him up and ask,” he said, nudging Joss with the toe of his boot. His eyes flicked over my shoulder.

“Here,” the woman said from behind me. Apparently, she was used to creeping about the building. With Joss as her boss, I didn’t blame her.

She held up a folded square. Her fingers passed with a dry hiss over the aged paper as she unfolded it to reveal a map.

“Where did you get that?” I asked, moving forward to get a better look. It was old enough that the ink had completely faded along the creases.

Ninurta was little more than a mess of sketchy lines beside the Outlands, but I recognized the city’s general layout. The White Court occupied the lower left corner. A black line bordered the Court, with the southernmost portion of the wall protecting the city from the sharp cliffs beyond. The map didn’t show what existed past them. Maybe the sea. Maybe nothing at all. Looking at it this way, the White Court resembled a prison more than a refuge.

The river snaked through the lower right corner, separating the much larger North District from the East Quarter, which was taken up almost entirely by freight containers. Beyond the square that represented the Labyrinth was another freight yard, one formed after the founding of Ninurta. Now that area, too, had become residential. Avan lived there.

Finally, the outer wall encased all of Ninurta, protecting the city from the Outlands. The Outlands stretched across most of the map, ending on the right with the forest. Beyond that, a dark swath marred the edges: the Void.

Maps were hard to come by. Ninurtans didn’t leave the city, so there was no need for them. The maps from before Rebirth remained within the city records hall for research and history. It seemed unlikely that a prostitute would happen to have one.