They fall on him with everything they have. Stupid. They might as well be shooting at bulletproof glass. Darmian responds in kind, dropping grenades with cold rhythm. They bloom in fire and smoke. Sentinels fall backward, few of them able to withstand a direct explosion.
Guardsmen vault over the rubble, following in Darmian’s wake. Many overtake him. The Sentinels are not their mission. Maven is. They flood into the Treasury, hot on the king’s trail.
As I run forward, I let my ability press on ahead. I feel the lights of the Treasury’s main hall, spiraling down into the rock beneath us. My sense jumps along the wires, deeper and deeper. Something big idles below, its engine a rising purr. He’s still here.
The marble beneath my feet is easy to scale. I scrabble over the rubble on all fours, my mind focused a hundred feet down. The next grenade blast catches me unawares. Its force blows me backward in a wave of heat. I land hard, flat on my back, gasping for breath, quietly thankful for Crance’s jacket. The explosion blazes over me, close enough to burn my cheek.
Too big for a grenade. Too controlled for natural flame.
I scramble to my feet, forcing my legs to obey as I suck down air. Maven. I should have known. He wouldn’t leave me up here. Wouldn’t run away without his favorite pet. He’s come to put the chains back on me himself.
Good luck.
Smoke follows the swirling fire, making the already dark Square hazy. It surrounds me, growing stronger and hotter with every passing second. Tensing, I send lightning through my nerves, letting it crackle over every inch. I take a step toward his silhouette, black and strange in the shifting firelight. The smoke curls, the fire shooting with raging hot blue flame. Sweat drips down my neck. My fists clench, ready to run him through with every drop of rage collected in his prison. I’ve been waiting for this moment. Maven is a cunning king, but no fighter. I’m going to rip him apart.
Lighting ripples over our heads, flashing brighter than the flame. It illuminates him as the wind picks up, blowing away the smoke to reveal—
Red-gold eyes. Broad shoulders. Callused hands, familiar lips, unruly black hair, and a face I have ached for.
Not Maven. All thoughts of the boy king disappear in an instant.
“Cal!”
The fireball hisses through the air, almost engulfing my head. I roll beneath it on instinct alone. Confusion rules my brain. He’s unmistakable. Cal, standing there in tactical armor, a red sash tied across him from waist to hip. I fight the animal need to run toward him. It takes every fiber of control to step back.
“Cal, it’s me! It’s Mare!”
He doesn’t speak, just pivots on his feet, keeping me in front of him. The fire around us churns and contracts, pulling inward with blinding speed. The heat crushes the air from my lungs, and I choke down smoke. Only lightning keeps me safe, crackling around me in a shield of electricity to keep me from burning alive.
I roll again, bursting through his inferno. My dress smolders, trailing smoke. I don’t waste precious time or brainpower trying to figure out what’s going on. I already know.
His eyes are shadowed, unfocused. No recognition in them. No indication that we’ve spent the last six months trying to get back to each other. And his movements are robotic, even compared to his military-trained precision.
A whisper has his mind. I don’t have to guess which one.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, even though he can’t hear me.
A blast of lightning throws him back, the sparks dancing over the plates of his armor. He seizes, twitching as the electricity pulls on his nerves. I bite my lip, trying harder than I ever have before to walk the narrow line between incapacitation and injury. I err on the weak side. A mistake.
Cal is stronger than I ever realized. And he has such an advantage. I’m trying to save him. He’s trying to kill me.
He fights through the pain, charging. I dodge, my focus shifting from keeping him at bay to keeping out of his crushing grip. A fire-fueled punch arcs over my head. I smell burned hair. Another catches me in the stomach and I fall backward. I roll with the momentum and pop up again, my old tricks returning. With a twist of my hand, I send another bolt of sparks dancing up his leg and into his spine. He howls. The sound cuts my insides. But it gives me a head start.
My focus narrows to one thing, one person’s devilish face. Samson Merandus.
He has to be close enough to bewitch Cal and send him after me. I search the battle as I run, looking for his blue suit. If he’s here, he’s hiding well. Or he could be perched above, looking down from the Treasury roof or the many windows of the adjoining buildings. Frustration eats at my resolve. Cal’s right here. We’re back together. And he’s trying to kill me.