The Void of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood Book 3)(15)

She kept the pace he set, trying to stifle the thrill. “Did you poison my father?” she asked him bluntly, staring at the chin jutting from his cowl.

“Of course,” he answered flatly. “He betrayed our agreement. He and Lady Deorwynn were supposed to reinstate you.”

“Who will pay you now?”

He laughed coldly. “I do not work for your father any longer.”

“Who then?” she pressed. He had saved her today, just as he had saved her from the sheriff’s men at the abbey. To whom did he owe his allegiance?

“Stop!” someone shouted from behind. “You two. Stop in the name of the chancellor!”

“Run,” the kishion said, pulling her in the right direction as they broke into a sprint. Cries sounded behind them, followed by the percussive pounding of boots. The kishion directed her to the arches and then down a long, narrow alley set between two of the outer walls of the castle. The walls were too high to climb, but a narrow iron door was set into the stone at the far end. The stone was chalky gray and cold, the alley spotted with a brown moss that also marred the door.

The kishion thrust a key into her hand. “Unlock it. I will hold them back.”

Maia nearly dropped the key as she frantically searched for the keyhole. She found it just as the soldiers raced into the alley with their swords and pikes. She fit the key into the lock, her hands trembling, and tried to turn it.

It was stuck.

The kishion did not wait. He rushed the soldiers and threw one of his daggers, which caught a man in the neck. There was a clash of arms as the soldiers tried to rush him with their weapons, but the kishion struck and twisted like a serpent, wounding an enemy with each jab. He took another vial out of his vest and threw it against the breastplate of one of his attackers. This time fire erupted from the contents instead of mist. The soldier screamed in pain and flailed his arms, exuding the sickening smell of sizzling meat.

Desperate, Maia used both hands to wrench on the key, and it finally groaned and turned. The bolt slid free. Using her shoulder, she shoved at the door, barely managing to budge it. The kishion attacked ten men at once, ducking and weaving and jabbing his daggers into their vulnerable parts. She gritted her teeth and continued to shove against the door, managing to slowly grind the warped wood against the stone, inch by slow inch. Through the gap, she saw another alley, littered with trash and crowded with pigeons. The birds cooed angrily and flapped away.

The kishion was suddenly next to her, and when he slammed his shoulder against the door, it swung open easily, as if without any effort.

“Almost free,” he said exultantly. “The city is crying for you, Maia. They want you to be their queen. They need you.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her with him into the alley, glancing back several times to see if they were being pursued. How had he struck down so many so quickly? She realized that he had not. His chemicals or devices were causing fear. The soldiers had run away.

She sensed two Leerings built into the stone walls as she approached the mouth of the alley. They radiated fear, and she could sense their purpose through her Gift of Invocation. They protected these walls and especially the porter door. Men feared to enter the alley, and so it was cluttered by debris that had been blown in by the wind.

“There!” someone shouted behind them. More soldiers spilled through the breached porter door and started pursuing them.

The kishion whirled to face them, his eyes full of anger. He was going to dispatch them as he had the others.

“No,” Maia said, grabbing his arm. “I can stop them. This way.”

She pulled him toward the edge of the alley and directed her thoughts at the Leerings, commanding them to prevent people from leaving the alley instead of approaching it. She felt the Leerings respond to her thoughts, and suddenly waves of terror and dread washed over her. She pulled the kishion into the street, beyond the Leerings’ range. The streets here were teeming with people, many of them carrying shovels or spades and chanting. She glanced back at the alley, where the soldiers now cowered in place, overcome by the fear caused by the Leerings. They would neither be able to pursue them nor track their steps.

“Clever,” the kishion praised. They walked swiftly, putting distance between themselves and Pent Tower. Maia saw the steeple of Claredon Abbey ahead—escape. But Suzenne and Dodd were still back at the castle, and she was unwilling to abandon her friends.

“The mayor is part of this revolt?” she asked him.

The kishion nodded. “He is loyal to you, Maia. Most of the city is loyal to you. Most of the realm is as well. They are teetering on the brink. You will steady them. You were meant for this.”

She stared at him and began to understand the look in his eyes. The cynical, murderous part of him was sloughing off. The look he gave her was almost . . . tender. He respected her. He admired her.

She was surprised. “You did this . . . for me?” she whispered.

He met her look and nodded curtly. “I do not serve the Victus. I do not serve Deorwynn. I serve you. My lady. My queen.”

Maia trembled at what he said. Fear coiled in her heart like a serpent. The look in his eyes. He was staring at her with . . . an eagerness she was unaccustomed to seeing in him. The pressing need to find safety brought her back to the present moment.

“Do you know where Flax Street is?” she asked him. “Can you take me there?”