Page 86 of The Rat King
A second later I saw her with a broom in hand, peering out of the window of her shop. Avery ran, and I followed. Around corners, down alleyways, until she got to the door of the stables at the edge of town. She skittered beneath the wood panels though when I peered inside, I lost sight of her.
I threw the door open, pushing past a stable hand who immediately barked at me to get out. I vaguely recognized the youth as the one who’d delivered the message of Xavier’s passing months earlier, but I didn’t have time to think on it. He must have recognized me, or at least was intimidated by what he saw, because his mouth fell open and he plastered himself against a wall.
I ran my hand through my hair. In each of the four stalls there was a horse munching on a basket of hay, and beneath it was a pile of straw. I slid into the first stable and was about to rifle through the pile when the boy shouted, “Out, you varmint!”
I shot out of the stall. “Where did it go?”
My cursed wife was nowhere in sight, and the boy was back to looking like a gaping fish. I grabbed him by the shirt collar and drew him to me. “Which way?” I growled.
He blinked, dumbfounded, but his head seemed to clear as I rattled him. Then, wordlessly, his finger jutted out toward the open door.
I grumbled as I released him, but when I got to the alley, I lost her trail. A niggle of doubt crept in. Was it her, or was I creating a narrative to ease my fear?
No, I wouldn’t doubt myself. Over the years, I honed my instincts into a fine blade. That was her. She was the only one who had hesitated before acting like a normal animal, which would make sense because her curse was new.
There was no telling how long the others had been under Samara’s spell. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath through my nose, trying to take in any information that my enhanced senses, which still lingered from my own curse, could detect. The wind down this alleyway swirled, making it nearly impossible for me to detect which way she went.
I looked back at the direction I had chased her from and moved in the opposite. It was a fifty-fifty chance.
I didn’t know how long I jogged through the village, but as I made my third lap, my hope was dwindling. I leaned against a brick wall in an alleyway out of view from the passersby who were already gaping openly and lifted my shirt. What was left of my skin was angry and red and the exposed flesh was oozing and trying to scab over. I should have stopped and healed myself, but I didn’t have the time.
I lifted my hands to work the healing magic when a guttural scream rent the air, making my hair stand on end and my instincts go on high alert before I could take care of my wound.
“Avery?” I yelled, hoping she’d call out again. The sound of her terror would haunt my dreams, but at least it was an indication that she had somehow been transformed back into a human. She screamed again. This time the sound was muffled, but it was enough. I pinpointed its direction and followed it.
The scream echoed in my mind, leading me toward her. As I raced nearer, the sounds of rough male voices came from the depths of an alley. I darted around the corner and came upon the three hunters from earlier, all facing a corner, taunting, and jabbing at their prize.
Golden-brown skin peeked out from between them, and I almost staggered, the blinding rage was so potent. The last dregs of my power chased down my arms and two glowing balls of fire magically appeared in them. I was consumed with ending them. I didn’t think they had hurt her yet, but that they had even gotten close to my wife demanded their death.
I flicked my wrists and the magic shot toward the outer two. Blue light burst through the alleyway as it slammed into their backs. Their cries as the power hit them, searing off their flesh, was a melody I would savor long after this day. Avery’s eyes widened as the fire consumed two of the men before her.
Now that I could get a good look at her, she seemed relatively unscathed, but she had one hand wrapped protectively across her breasts. The other gripped a sharp rock she held at the apex of her thighs, which were clamped tight together. Blood coated the rock and the tips of her fingers, and a purple and red mark swelled on her cheek.
“Nighval,” she said, the sound of her panicked voice cut like broken glass.
“It’s okay,” I said, pulling a dagger from the sheath at my thigh. The burning men fell to the ground at her feet, writhing and screaming as the flames consumed them and she pressed back into the corner. The other man glanced between his fallen companions and spun to face me. A large gash bled across his temple and there was a gaping wound at his neck, but it hadn’t been enough to kill him.
I grinned. “Did you do that?” I asked.
She nodded, even as fear filled her eyes, momentarily displacing me. I wasn’t sure if I was now scaring her or the fact that I had so easily killed two men without flinching had, but she would have to accept me if she was going to stay at my side as I set the kingdom to rights.
I shot forward, grabbed the man by his drab, greasy hair and brought his eyes to face me as I slit his throat, finishing the job my wife had started. Blood sprayed onto my already soaked tunic, and I dropped him to the ground with the others.
“Look out!” she screamed, as a searing pain stabbed through my chest. I spun, but I was too late. The fourth hunter was standing at the end of the alleyway, loading another crossbolt. I lifted my hands, calling upon the fire magic as another bolt sailed through the air. Still, the magic left my hand and the last thing I saw before my knees cracked into the ground was the trader catching fire.
Chapter 60
Avery
Asobtorefrommy throat as I rushed to Nighval’s side. He landed face down, pushing the shafts of the arrows so they protruded out his back. I went to my knees beside him and rolled him, so he was on his side. The front of his stomach was covered in third- and fourth-degree burns, and his shirt was in tatters. Two metal arrowheads stuck out of his chest. One from beside his sternum on the right, and the other—no. It couldn’t be.
Why had I never learned anything useful, like first aid? I glanced around for something to stop the bleeding. The diamond shaped razor blades of the arrowheads looked like they could shred whatever they touched, and my husband’s blood gushed out, pooling at my knees.
I tore at what was left of his tunic and rolled it up into a ball to press it to his chest wound. The thing was soaked in a few seconds.
“No, please, no,” I cried as I hovered over him, trying to staunch the blood.
I scanned his perfectly imperfect face. His lips were becoming a deadly blue tinge. “Nigh, please, don’t leave me.” I leaned down and kissed them as I begged. They were already cool.
