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A River of Golden Bones (The Golden Court, #1)(51)

Author:A.K. Mulford

“Okay.” I bobbed my head, beginning to understand the appeal.

“Is there anything else you need?” Mina signed, her tongue clicking as she sucked the candy.

I surveyed the bare room.

“Save your money,” Malou said. “They’ll have better wares in the capital city of Taigoska.”

We ambled down the shelves anyway, taking our time to be out of the wagon. The syrupy flavor of the candy coated my tongue as it shrunk into the size of a pebble in my mouth. We had nearly wound our way to the back of the shop when I noticed a tipped-over sack. Grain spilled onto the hardwood floor. The hairs on my arm stood on end as I glanced over the back counter to an upturned chair. My ears strained, but I couldn’t hear a sound.

“Hello?” I called, waving the twins over.

Why hadn’t I thought to question it when no store owner appeared? We’d eaten their candy and perused their shelves for several minutes.

“Hello? Anyone here?” Malou shouted toward the cracked-open door that led to the back of the shop. “We’re from Galen den’ Mora.” The Taigosi words flowed easily off her tongue.

“Are you all right?” I called.

“Aye,” a gruff voice shouted back. A weathered-looking man with a long beard shuffled out from behind the back door and we collectively sighed. He looked unscathed, a bottle of amber liquid clutched in his hand. “Just waiting for the Rooks to pass.”

“Rooks?” I glanced between the twins.

“How long ago were they here?” Malou asked.

“Ye just missed them.” The owner pointed out the back window.

Malou chucked a copper coin onto the countertop and spun around. “We need to get back to the wagon.”

“You think they spotted us?” Mina asked.

“If they weren’t above the cloud line,” Malou said, looking at the steep road through the windows. “They would’ve seen us riding uphill.”

“Come on.” Mina grabbed my elbow and steered me out of the shop.

I rushed back out onto the street, nearly colliding with Malou’s back when she halted.

“Shit,” she hissed.

I leaned past her, staring down the road to see a mob of seven black cloaks. They wore black scarves that covered their mouths and noses, their eyes shadowed in the depths of their hoods. Obsidian feathers covered their shoulders, shimmering with iridescence.

I’d never seen the weapons they wielded before. The blades curved like a scythe around the knuckles of their gloved hands. One flipped it over and back, spinning the blade by its hook. I assessed the claw-like weapons, expecting they’d use them like an extension of their own fists. I made a note to not let any of their blows land. Normally, I could get away with absorbing a few punches, but not if a blade sharpened them.

They crowded around one figure and my pulse doubled its speed when I realized it was Ora.

My feet were moving before I could stop myself. “Hey!” I shouted, drawing a few of their gazes.

“Calla,” Malou hissed. “What are you doing?”

“Go get help,” I called over my shoulder. Neither of them looked like they knew how to fight, and I didn’t need to be worrying for them when I needed to be focused on fighting. The best thing they could do at that moment was stay out of my way.

I clenched the handle of the knife in my pocket, glad I had placed it there out of habit that morning. It wasn’t my dagger, but it was better than nothing.

Three of the Rooks turned, guffawing as they sized me up. I knew I looked pathetic with the paring knife in my hand. Good. They wouldn’t fight me like they would a soldier.

“Calla, run!” Ora shouted when they spotted me. Their wide, panicked eyes undercut their warning. I wouldn’t leave them to this wild pack of Sawyn’s lackeys.

“Listen to your friend,” the nearest Rook said in Taigosi. I could tell from his tone that he was smiling, even though I couldn’t see his mouth.

A few more Rooks stepped away from the wagon. Perfect. If I could train all their eyes on me, then it would give Ora a chance to flee . . . one I hoped they’d take. With any luck, Navin would return any minute and then maybe the tides would turn. Navin wore a dagger on his belt and I prayed he knew how to use it. Three against seven was far better odds.

“Are you afraid to lose to someone like me?” I fluttered my lashes, pretending to be demure like Briar did so well. I dropped into a mock curtsy, the gesture egging them on.

I remembered the wide, wary eyes of the men from nights before and my lips twisted into a wicked grin. My smile alone made the first Rook stall and I chuckled as the rest charged.

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