Page 2 of Hellbound

A cool, masculine voice echoed closer, accompanied by pounding footsteps that were gaining ground down the street.

Tension snapped through her spine. “Time to go.”

They had evaded him for the last decade, and she didn’t plan on changing that.

Danika pulled her sister into a tight hug.

“Stay sharp.” Ksenia’s breath puffed in the air.

“Stay safe,” Danika whispered back, tears running down her cheeks and onto Ksenia’s cloak.

Ksenia pulled away and paused, memorizing every freckle, the gold flecks in her doe-brown eyes, the soft blonde wisps escaping her twin braids.

Swallowing thickly, she turned the doorknob to peer outside the decrepit cottage at the edge of Brannfels City, flanked by a foreboding forest.

A dozen or so shadows bled between the buildings. The guards moved methodically, barking orders as they fanned out. Soon, there would be nothing left between the butcher king’s bloodhounds and their hiding spot.

Lantern light beamed through soft rainfall, which collected in the rusted gutters.

She drew her scarf over her face and slunk out the back door with a wave. Danika would watch for longer than she should, keeping an eye on her as she padded over the winding flagstone street till she was able to disappear into the alleyway between the narrow townhouses.

Water ran down their steep gabled roofs and split into streams over the arched doorways. Beyond them, the buildings pressed against one another—homes and stores stacked shoulder to shoulder. The windows were dark and shuttered, every door sealed.

Moonlight shifted coyly between drizzling clouds as her boots clicked against the chill stone.

By now, the raid would have reached the dwelling, but Danika would be gone if she’d followed protocol.

The smell of fresh water mixed with tar and sodden wood greeted her nose as she rounded a crumbling storefront.

She paused at a yellowed poster with curled edges pasted on the plaster wall:

BY DECREE OF THE CROWN:

BONDSMITHING IS FORBIDDEN.

ANY PERSONS CAUGHT FORGING, WIELDING,

OR TRAFFICKING BOUND WEAPONS WITHOUT

PERMIT WILL BE EXECUTED. FAILURE TO COMPLY

IS TREASON. INFORMANTS WILL BE REWARDED.

She ripped the paper from the wall, tossing it into the canal next to her.

The water gave off a silvery glow, guiding her as she followed the channel until she spotted the bridge and counted one, two, three squat buildings. There, she spotted a rotted wheel leaning against a wooden door, banded with rust.

Ksenia took stock of her surroundings: narrow lanes between the warehouses, stacks of barrels and crates cluttering the riverfront. Stalking the shadows, she sidled up against the splintered door, its blue paint whitewashed from the sun.

She pressed her shoulder against the wheel, rolling it aside.

She peered through the gaping hole where the doorknob should’ve been, and then pried her fingers against the rough edge.

The door swung inward with a jerk, and a hard body tackled her to the ground, knocking her breathless. Elbows and knees jabbed into her stomach before she wrestled a pair of wiry, dark-haired boys off with a huff.

“Calm down! I’m with the Bound Eye, and I’m here to get you to safety—” Ksenia shielded her face from further assault with her forearm.

They rubbed their arms and sides sheepishly before stepping aside and allowing Ksenia to enter the warehouse.