The fall from the solar wind was a frantic blur of gravity and shattered glass. I hit the manicured lawn of the estate and rolled, the impact jarring my teeth, but I didn't stop moving. Above me, the east wing of the Dresvan manor groaned as the alchemist's fire took hold, turning the stone into a roaring furnace.
"Lysia!"
A heavy weight hit the grass beside me. Silas. He was clutching his side, his face pale beneath the grime of battle, but he was upright. Behind him, the balcony was a silhouette of leaping flames. There was no sign of Kaelen or Califer, but the rhythmic, metallic clatter of the Hive vanguard was closing in from all sides.
"The Scroll," Silas wheezed, eyeing the lead cylinder tucked into my belt. "We have to get it to the docks. The Unseen have a cutter waiting."
"The docks are five miles of open city," I said, my voice sounding foreign even to me. The porcelain mask felt like a death shroud. I reached up and ripped it off, hurling the white shards into the shadows. If I was going to die today, I would die as Lysia, not a puppet. "And the Hive owns every alleyway between here and the water."
"Then we don't use the alleys," Silas said, glancing at the approaching torches. "We use the rooftops. Can you run?"
"I was born running," I hissed.
We bolted.
The trek through the capital was a nightmare of vertical geometry. We leaped from garden walls to low-hanging eaves, our boots drumming a frantic rhythm on the clay tiles. Below us, the city was waking up to the sound of bells—the Dresvan fire had alerted the City Watch, but the Watch was the least of our worries.
"There!" Silas pointed toward a narrow bridge connecting two merchant tenements.
Before we could reach it, a black-feathered bolt whistled through the air, thudding into the wood inches from Silas's head. I skidded to a halt, drawing my daggers.
Three figures emerged from the chimney shadows. They weren't initiates; they were Stingers—my former students. They moved in perfect synchronization, their obsidian blades reflecting the rising sun.
"Reaper," the center one said, his voice distorted by his mask. "The Master wants your head. He says it's time to collect the debt."
"Tell Califer he's already paid in blood," I snarled.
I didn't wait for them to lunge. I became a whirlwind of steel. I dove under the first Stinger's guard, my blade finding the soft gap in his armor at the neck. He went down without a sound. Behind me, Silas engaged the other two, his blue-lit sword clashing against their black steel with a shower of sparks.
I turned to help him, but a heavy shadow dropped from a higher roof, pinning me to the tiles.
It was Kaelen.
He didn't use a blade. He slammed his fist into my jaw, sending spots dancing across my vision. "You stupid girl," he growled, his voice thick with a grief he was trying to drown in rage. "I told you to move aside. I gave you the chance to stay a sister of the Hive."
"The Hive is a grave, Kaelen!" I kicked him back, scrambling to my feet. "Can't you see it? We're just fuel for Califer's fire!"
"It was the only home we had!" Kaelen lunged, his longsword whistling in a deadly arc.
I parried, the force of the blow vibrating up my arms and threatening to crack my bones. Kaelen was stronger, but I was faster. I backed toward the edge of the roof, leading him away from Silas.
"The Princess was his daughter, Kaelen!" I shouted over the ring of steel. "He lied to us for years! My parents, your family—it was probably all him!"
Kaelen's eyes flickered, a momentary hesitation that cost him. I swept his leg, and as he fell, I held my dagger to his throat. For a second, the world stood still. I saw the boy who had shared his meager rations with me when I was a starving recruit. I saw my brother.
"Go," I whispered. "Don't follow us."
Kaelen looked up at me, his lip bleeding. "He'll kill me if I return without you."
"Then don't return," I said.
I pulled back and ran, grabbing Silas's arm. He had dispatched the remaining Stingers, though a new gash lined his thigh. We leaped from the bridge just as a volley of arrows hissed through the space where we had been standing.
We reached the harbor district as the sun fully crested the horizon. The scent of salt and rotting fish replaced the smell of smoke. At the end of Pier Thirteen, a sleek, black-sailed cutter sat low in the water, its crew hushed and ready.
"The Shield of the Unseen!" a man on deck called out.
We scrambled down the pier, our lungs screaming for air. We leaped onto the deck just as the mooring lines were cut. As the gap between the ship and the stone pier widened, I turned back toward the city.
High on the sea wall, a lone figure stood silhouetted against the dawn. Califer. He wasn't screaming. He wasn't sending more men. He simply stood there, watching us go, holding the lead cylinder I thought I had stolen.
I looked down at my belt. My hand brushed the cold metal. I pulled it out and opened the cap.
Empty.
The realization hit me like a physical blow. The "Aegis Scroll" I had was a decoy. The girl, Elara, had handed the real one to her father right in front of me.
"Silas," I whispered, showing him the empty tube.
Silas looked at the cylinder, then back at the receding city. His face went grim. "He let us go. He wanted us to take the bait so we wouldn't look for the real key."
"No," I said, staring at Califer's distant figure. "He let us go because now he knows where the Unseen sanctuary is. We didn't escape, Silas. We just became the hounds leading him to the rest of the pack."
The ship caught the wind, heading for the open sea, but I had never felt more like a prisoner.