Барб Хенди - First and Last Sorcerer

They all hurried onward until Fareed halted at the building’s far corner and turned to Léshil.

“The gateway is twenty steps more,” he whispered, pointing around the building’s end.

Léshil returned a sharp nod, and Fareed spun around the corner. No one hesitated to follow, and as Chap pulled Wayfarer out of the passage, she saw the gateway ahead and released his tail. Her mind went blank as she crossed that distance walking on her own power.

The opening in the great wall had to be as tall as three or maybe four men. When she entered it behind the others, she saw a timber gate ahead that filled half or more of the opening’s height. And there were more guards, who all straightened at the sight of Fareed. Only one dared step forward to speak with him, and the pair spoke too softly for Wayfarer to hear, even if she could have understood them.

All of these guards wore brown tabards and red head wraps, but not one of them wore a gold—or even silver—sash. Pointing to the gate, the lead guard turned to bark at his companions. The others rushed to slide an immense brace beam, which made a crackling sound as it moved, and then the gate opened.

Fareed ushered Léshil out and into the city without a word, and remained where he stood.

Wayfarer followed, bracing on Chap again. They stepped out into a long, wide street.

Sandstone cobble stretched ahead into the darkness between the quiet buildings. She still did not make a sound—and feared to even look back—until she heard the immense gate close; almost instantly, a loud crack followed as the beam was slid back into place on the inside.

To be free was too much to believe, and when she turned her eyes from the gate to look ahead around—

A cloaked figure stepped out of a side street on the mainway’s right.

At first it was difficult to see, until it came far enough to be illuminated by the sparse street lanterns hanging on light chains strung from iron standing poles. Small and slender, it was most likely a woman, and Wayfarer felt there was something familiar about the way it—she—stepped purposefully up the street.

A long, loud horn pealed out in the night.

Wayfarer spun to look back as she heard shouts in Sumanese rising from somewhere beyond the closed gate. She heard grinding and then the thunder-thump of the inner beam being slid again. Before she even twisted back ahead—

“Run!” Léshil shouted.

Brot’ân’duivé had taken a vantage point several rooftops behind and to the south of Dänvârfij and Rhysís, and he had watched them throughout a tedious day and into the night. That Dänvârfij still hunted something meant that she might yet lead him to a way to retrieve Léshil and the others.

He could be endlessly patient, but after a long day in the heat he pulled a leather flask from the back of his tunic for a sparse sip. The flask barely touched his lips when a shadow rose up on that rooftop up ahead of him.

Dänvârfij was on her feet, fully exposed to anyone else upon the city’s heights. She faced away from him toward the imperial grounds. For someone of her training and experience, it was such a rash action.

Something had happened.

Before Brot’ân’duivé could tuck the flask away, he heard a loud horn reverberate in the night. The shadow of Rhysís rose beside Dänvârfij, and he pointed toward the grounds.

Cold calm filled Brot’ân’duivé. He shoved the flask away and jerked the tie on his right wrist sheath. A stiletto slid down out of his sleeve against his palm. For whatever reason, he knew that a moon of waiting was over.

From her hiding place down the main street, Wynn had watched Leesil and Magiere come out of the imperial gate. She’d nearly bolted out to them in a flood of relief, but Ghassan had grabbed the back of her cloak. She’d bitten her lower lip to keep from pulling out of his grasp. Even if he hadn’t been forthcoming about his methods, he had somehow achieved what he’d promised.

Wynn waited anxiously as Leesil led the way, but he was almost dragging Magiere along, as if she couldn’t walk on her own. Behind him, Leanâlhâm hobbled as she leaned with one hand on Chap’s shoulders.

Ghassan made Wynn wait until all four were clear and the gate was closed behind them.

“Now,” he whispered. “Quickly, but do not run and attract attention.”

Wynn needed no such urging. At first she thought to keep to the street side’s shadows, but then she might only startle Leesil. She stepped into the open, walked briskly, and at first no one appeared to notice her. Magiere’s head hung with her hair curtaining her face, and Leesil was focused on helping her. Then Leanâlhâm looked up.

Even in the dark, Wynn saw the girl’s bright green eyes widen. Any relief vanished as a horn bellowed in the night. Shouting rose beyond the gate, and Wynn heard a thundering clack. Leesil glanced back, said something to Leanâlhâm, and broke into a stumbling trot as he dragged Magiere.

The gates began to swing open again; Wynn forgot Ghassan’s warning and ran toward her friends.

Five city guards rushed out of the widening gap.

Wynn jerked her hood back, exposing her hair and face. “Leesil! Here!”

A flash of shock flattened his expression at the sight of her. That was all, and he immediately pulled Magiere along at a faster pace. Chap lunged ahead, nearly jerking Leanâlhâm off her feet, as the guards behind them shouted and drew swords.

Ghassan suddenly rushed past Wynn.

“This way,” he commanded.

As Leesil reached them, Wynn saw his face more clearly within his hood. She choked. He looked sickened, gaunt, and desperate. He could take a good deal of punishment, of suffering, but he looked near the end of his endurance. Magiere was even worse, with her eyes unfocused and barely opened. Wynn caught only a glimpse of Leanâlhâm’s face, but never had a chance to look at Chap.

A shriek erupted along the street.

The first pursuing guard toppled in his run and struck the cobble to roll once. A snapped-off arrow shaft protruded from his thigh. He grabbed at it as other guards veered for the sides of the street.

Somewhere above, Osha guarded everyone, but he couldn’t do so for long. And Wynn saw three more guards run out of the open gate.

Wynn! Get on with this—now!

She flinched at that voice in her head, its words coming in every language she knew, and looked straight into Chap’s sky blue eyes. This voice wasn’t like his trick of pulling broken spoken phrases out of others’ memories. She was the only one to whom he could speak like this after she’d fouled up a thaumaturgical ritual while journeying with him, Magiere, and Leesil.

Chap looked better than the others, though filthy and lean.

Ghassan ducked in and braced up Magiere’s other side. Leesil turned a glare on him, but Wynn regained her wits.

“Follow me!” she half shouted, running a few steps forward.

A snarl, the clatter of steel, and another shriek from an arrow’s strike sounded behind Wynn. At this, she knew Chane and Shade had rushed out to cut off the guards, with Osha covering the escape from above. She glanced back and slowed upon seeing the others struggling to follow. Chap had half turned and stopped, leaving Leanâlhâm stalled and waiting on him. He must have heard his daughter, Shade, entering the fight.

“Chap, not now!” Wynn shouted at him. “Come on!”

Thankfully, he saw Leanâlhâm looking back, and he turned to follow. As the others caught up, Wynn rushed into a side street, leaving Chane, Shade, and Osha to deal with any pursuit.

Chane had held back until Leesil dragged Magiere past where he and Shade were crouched. At the sight of the dhampir, hatred almost overwhelmed him. He’d expected trepidation, even anger, over how Magiere’s presence might affect his relationship to Wynn—but not this almost physical intensity. He froze in place as his sight widened until the night became brilliant in his eyes. He could feel his teeth begin to change.