Page 10 of The Sunbound Princess
DAIN
The woman had magic in her veins.
Her palm buzzed against mine as we crashed through the forest hand in hand, branches whipping at our faces. It should have been harder to hang onto her. Running with joined hands sounded easy until you actually tried to do it.
But it was easy with her—because something inside me didn’t want to let her go. It was as if a magnet had lodged under my skin, and it called to one hidden under hers. The connection had started well before I touched her. I’d stood on the platform, my features schooled to indifference as I worked at the ropes around my wrists. Nikolas and I had escaped similar scrapes in the past. His job was to distract people with talk—something he excelled at—while I used the little bit of magic in my blood to break free.
Heat and mirage. Those were the gifts my distant elven ancestor had passed down to me. The first was the most useful, especially when I needed to burn through a rope.
The woman’s magic was similar, her skin hot to the touch. Which meant she was elfkin—a human with an elf tucked in a branch on her family tree. That explained the cloak, which she did her best to keep pulled over her head as we ran from thevillagers. Probably, she possessed a littletoo muchmagic. The kind that could get a person killed in Andulum.
So what was she doing buying bonds in public? Even as the question formed, its answer followed, the implications souring my gut. Certain brothels kept elfkin for select customers. They traded in “magical companions,” offering enhanced experiences for those with deep enough pockets. As long as they kept the right people happy, the brothel owners with a surplus of magic enjoyed long and fruitful lives.
“This way!” Nikolas shouted, taking a sharp left through the trees. Footsteps thundered behind us. The woman was fast, but she was tiring, her breathing growing more labored. The pack she wore slowed her down. She couldn’t maintain the breakneck pace much longer.
Without missing a stride, Nikolas pulled a sunblade from his sleeve. Reluctant admiration filled me as he pinched it between his fingers. Somehow, he’d slipped the weapon past the jail’s guards.
The woman’s eyes widened at the sight of the palm-sized sunblade, which resembled an ordinary throwing star. But its glowing edges marked it as far more deadly.
“That won’t work here,” the woman gasped, her palm sweating in mine. She gripped her skirts with her free hand, holding the fabric above black leather boots that hugged slender legs.
Nikolas darted her a roguish smile. “Seems to be working just fine to me.” Twisting, he tossed the blade over his shoulder. A sharp whistle split the air, followed by a man’s strangled scream.
Victory.I couldn’t afford to look back. But the sunblade had found at least one target.
“Do you have six more of those?” I rasped. Tightening my grip on the woman’s hand, I leapt a shallow puddle. She soaredover it with me, and we thudded to the ground and kept sprinting.
Nikolas flashed me a grin. “I have a few more tricks up my sleeves.”
I grunted. He was full of tricks, all right, and just as many bad ideas. Most of the time, his tricks went off without a hitch. But on the rare occasions they didn’t, we landed in hot water—or at the end of a noose.
Or worse.
Nikolas produced another sunblade and sent it spinning over his shoulder. A second later, a man’s sharp cry echoed through the forest.
“Sorcery!” one of the villagers bellowed.
I risked a look behind me. Two of the villagers stopped, their chests heaving. Fear replaced the greed in their eyes. They exchanged looks, then spun and fled in the opposite direction. The remaining three men continued the chase.
My lungs burned, and my legs quivered as I pulled the woman faster. Any other time, three opponents would have posed no problem for Nikolas and me. But the jail had been less than generous with food, and we’d been locked up for four days. River water and crusts of moldy bread weren’t ideal sustenance for winning a fight. The forest blurred, and black spots danced in my vision.
The woman stumbled, crying out as she clutched at a tree. Red flashed, and the sharp scent of blood snapped me out of my temporary fog. I shoved her behind me just as the villagers caught up to us.
Dirty and lean, they darted looks between me and Nikolas, who’d stopped, his feet braced wide and his arms loose at his sides. One of the men pointed a knife at my chest.
“End of the line,” he said, displaying brown teeth in his pockmarked face. “And the end of your days.” His companions flanked him, menacing smiles stretching their lips.
The woman stepped from behind my shoulder and planted herself firmly between me and Nikolas.
“Get behind me,” I muttered, but she ignored the command as she turned to Nikolas.
“Do you have any other weapons?”
He raised his fists. “I have these.”
Her brows knit, a distinctly unimpressed look on her face.
“We’ll be relievin’ you of that gold,” the pockmarked man said, shuffling forward. A blade flashed in his hand, the steel reflecting the waning sunlight.
