Kelta scowled and marched over. When Sunne offered to help her onto his horse, she scoffed and went to Nadia’s instead. Nadia almost smiled, but it was only a flicker, like a candle sputtering.
“I’ll keep them cloaked, sir,” Sunne said, as Nyx checked to make sure Kelta was seated properly. “I promise.”
“Come with us,” Nadia said. She leaned forward, holding her daughter close. “Kelta—she needs you. I need you.”
“You need me to distract Lamont’s people.” Nyx squeezed Nadia’s hand once before letting go. “I’ll see you when it’s done.”
“I love you.” Kelta spoke as if she were on the edge of a cliff, teetering, and they were the last words she’d ever say. “We both loved you, Papa.”
Nyx kissed Kelta’s forehead, and she threw her arms around his neck, almost falling off the horse. “And I love you,” he told her. “Both of you, always.”
“Darling, we need to go,” Nadia murmured, and Kelta reluctantly pried herself away from Nyx. “But we’ll see each other soon.”
Nyx nodded and drew back, but he caught the sound of Kelta sobbing quietly as Nadia urged the horse forward. The witch boy followed, and as he held up a hand, the air around them rippled and they faded from sight. All Nyx could see was the street leading away from the palace and the sunset slowly fading into the growing dark.
The sun had just disappeared over the hills when Nyx made his way to the stables.
They, too, were empty, save for two horses already led out of their stalls. Thena sat atop a gray mare. She looked different without her witch gown or ribbons, but she did bear her witch’s collar. She was wearing riding trousers and practical boots instead of her usual glossy heels, and dozens of little cloth bags hung from her belt. When Nyx arrived, she opened one and tossed its contents in the air, and Nyx grimaced as a heavy curtain of magic washed over him.
“Good,” she said, “it’s you. Get on your horse. We don’t have time.”
“Did you think I’d be someone else?” Nyx asked, climbing onto the other horse. Thena looked him up and down.
“Maybe. The emperor started poaching some of my witches a few weeks ago. They’re not staying in the Crypts anymore, won’t answer to me… It’s not the best sign. I’ve sent most of the witchlings south, where the others can keep them safe until whatever this is blows over.”
“And what is ‘this,’ Thena?” Nyx asked, as Thena clucked to her horse, easing it out of the stables. He followed her, keeping close in case she needed to use her magic on them both. “What is Lamont’s goal, beyond ruining Nadia and killing Andor and Kelta?”
“I don’t care what Lamont does after this. His desires are petty. It’s whatyouchoose that worries me.” Nyx frowned at her, and she lowered her voice, digging into another bag. She sprinkled sand between them, and the sound of their horses’ hooves on the cobbled street faded. “What will you do, Nyx? Because that river in my vision—the river of sand I saw consuming Iperios—it is tied to you. If it comes, it will be because you brought it here.”
Nyx turned away. The city was quiet, every bell now muffled in the wake of Andor’s passing, but there were lights in the streets and windowsills. Lamont had killed his own son. Nyx’s son, for all that they weren’t related by blood. The boy Nyx had carried upstairs when he fell asleep during Kelta’s sword drills, who loved stuffed animals and drew battle diagrams while he was supposed to be learning math or science. The boy who’d given a stone to War like it was a precious gift, who’d looked into their eyes and not been afraid.
And now Nadia and Kelta were on their own, running for their lives while Nyx played decoy. If there truly were a river of sand bent on swallowing the empire, it couldn’t come fast enough.
Thena sighed. “That’s what I’m worried about,” she whispered. “All right. Are you ready to make a scene, Emperor?”
Nyx startled, staring at her. “Don’t call me that.”
“Well, I won’t callhimthat.” Her eyes shone. “I could have saved Andor, but Lamont distracted me with the witches. So I’ll choose my own emperor. You’ll find I’m not the only one. Now, go.”
Nyx urged his horse past her, and Thena started undoing her belt pouches one by one. “Don’t die,” he told her.
“It isn’t my time yet.” Thena raised her hands, and the sand from her pouches rose up in ribbons, twisting around her fingers like something alive. Slowly, the ribbons started to take shape, becoming slender, snake-like dragons that snapped and hissed as they multiplied. Nyx drew back, unable to run but unable to look away. Witches weren’t supposed to be able to create life.
“How—”
“Go,” Thena said, her voice rumbling like thunder. “The dragons will not hurt you, or Nadia or her daughter. They will protect the family of the emperor.” It sounded like an incantation, and Thena started to shake as more dragons emerged from the sand, glowing the colors of a sunset. “Leave me.”
Nyx turned his horse toward the gates and fled. He twisted round after a few paces and saw the mass of dragons gliding toward the Palace of the Moon. As they passed lanterns, they ate the fire from the wicks. They snuffed out torches, swallowed the flames from candles. Darkness followed them, and warning calls rang out throughout the city as they swarmed in a growing cloud overhead.
Nyx smiled. Nadia and Kelta would be running in the dark, but so would Lamont’s guards. Then, as he cast one last look behind him, he saw Thena fall from her saddle.
He reined in his horse, staring at the slumped form on the cobbles. She’d given him precious moments to run. He had to give the guards someone to chase, lead them away from Nadia and Kelta. He couldn’t afford to go back for anyone. Even Thena.
With a groan, Nyx turned his horse.
“No.” Thena’s voice was thin as Nyx dismounted. “No, you fucking asshole. You’re supposed to run.”
“Insult me on the way,” Nyx said, hauling her onto his horse. She was still trembling, spent from her magical working, and a thin ribbon dragon was twined in her hair, clicking softly. It hissed at Nyx as he climbed into the saddle behind her. “I’m not leaving you here.”
