Page 179 of City of Snakes
That was a warning call in Henosis.
Light footsteps padded down the stairs a few minutes later, and Elsedora appeared. “Get up. We need to go.”
“Go?” I dumbly asked as Firose straightened to sit beside me. Elsedora’s glare narrowed on the enchantress, and she pursed her lips.
“Yes, a threat has been detected from the watchtowers north of the city.”
Firose stiffened beside me. “What sort of threat?”
“The sort where thousands of gruesome-looking foot soldiers, traveling at a speed which I can not understand, are approaching our city gates from the direction of Sahlmkar. Firose, you are intimately familiar with the region, are you not?”
The ice in Elsedora’s tone, as she noted the place where Firose had drawn her army from, made me grip the cot’s edges. She wouldn’t again—she couldn’t have. I’d been with her this whole time.
The ceiling above us rumbled, raining down stone debris, as though people were running through the estate above. The bell tower kept its constant rhythm, and my heart pounded.
“Do they seem to be moving through Shadows the way Krait can?” Firose asked, ignoring Elsedora’s biting question.
Elsedora’s posture softened slightly. “Yes, in small distances. I’ve been told it looks as though they disappear and reappear closer by the minute.”
Firose was on her feet instantly. “Then they’re Moirai,” she said. “They can deathwalk. They’re of Caym’s creation—what does the moon look like tonight?”
Elsedora’s body went rigid, and she shook her head. “I noticed a gray ring and figured it was a crescent moon. It can’t be…We were supposed to have years.”
The blood drained from Firose’s scarred cheeks, and her eyes went as wide as saucers. “He is back,fullyback.” I’d never seen her so panic-stricken.
“If they are what you say, how do we fight them?”
“Head and heart. They’ll survive fire, water and most mortal wounds otherwise,” Firose answered.
Their exchange was so rapid that I reeled to keep up.
“Where is Sybilla?” I demanded, standing up and crossing the room to the redheaded thief who had kept watch over me in Helos.
“I don’t know. She and Krait haven’t returned.” When Elsedora met my gaze, I saw the same horror reflected back at me. The people she cared about were out there too. “And, when I last checked that map, it no longer showed me an envoy’s location. Up, let’s go.”
Blood coursed hot through me. My friend was out there, where the approaching threat had come from, where Caym was.
The last time I saw her was not supposed to be the last time I spoke to her. Those weren’t meant to be our final words to one another. She had to survive.
Elsedora motioned up the stairs, and I began to climb with shaking knees; Firose trailed me. My cuffed hands shielded against the assault of lamplight at the open door. The estate was in an uproar of activity—guards using it as a staging area for weaponry and maids grabbing their belongings.
We approached the estate’s entry, and Elsedora said, “Go to Luz. Warn Asterie. The Egress is in the courtyard, to the left—you’ll need to push through the crowds.”
The courtyard thundered with the mayhem of hundreds of running feet and hooves mixing with the sound of carriages being loaded and the blare of horns.
A guard yelled, “All civilians to the Plateau! Move on! Move on!”
Elsedora shouted to a guard on our left, “Prepare every Warhorse, and send them north of the city! When the Moirai reach us, aim for their heads or hearts.” The guard nodded and then sprinted away.
The bell tower ringing above us heightened my anxiety with every stroke. There was a haphazard mob of people around the Egress.
Elsedora glanced between me and Firose. “Don’t make me regret not leaving you as food for the wolves. Send reinforcements. As many as you can, but you both stay away from here.” She gave me one hard look and then thrust her hand out—in it was a key. She placed it in my palm and then ran toward where the guard had headed.
Wasting no time, I grabbed Firose’s hand, and we helped uncuff each other’s wrists, freeing our use of Source power. We ran toward the mob of people crowding around the small Egress.
Tall enough to see over most of the crowd, I noticed people were leaving three at a time. A child sobbed in her mother’s arms beside us. My throat constricted, but I pulled Firose onward.
We elbowed our way through the panic. By the time we reached the Egress, my tunic was torn and I’d likely whitened Firose’s fingertips with the strength of my grip.
