He tried to speak but coughed instead, a dry, rattling sound.
“Yarl!” she shouted. “Come quickly!”
He appeared in the doorway, his face paling at the sight of his master. “I’ll send for the healers at the Angel Tower immediately,” he said, backing toward the door.
She helped Gavriel take a sip of water, then eased him back against the pillows. His wings trembled with the effort, the once glossy black feathers dull and lifeless.
The dream flashed through her mind again. She had assumed that Gavriel was the serpent, shredding her heart in his jaws. But the clouds meant deception. A hidden antagonist creating chaos, fogging minds to obscure the truth.
Cathrynne cursed herself. She had been so preoccupied with her own demons that she’d been blinded to the real threat.
“Stay with me,” he murmured, his fingers tightening around hers.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised.
Chapter 17
Kal
She walked into Arjevica as the midday sun struck the gold cupola of the city’s Angel Tower. She’d unknowingly crossed the border between Satu Jos and Kievad Rus in the mining tunnels, emerging south of a town called Ressad. From there, she’d hitched a ride with a lorry driver who had just delivered dry goods to one of the camps. The woman let her sleep in the empty cargo bed. She hadn’t asked any questions.
Kal felt relieved to have made it so far, but she knew no one in Arjevica. The capital of K.R. was every bit as prosperous as Durian had claimed. Its boulevards stretched wide and straight, paved with white stone and lined with trees turning autumn gold. Sleek automobiles prowled the streets, and the buildings were tall and elegant. Even the air tasted cleaner.
Without money for a bed or food, she wandered randomly, hoping to snatch a piece of fruit from a stall. But Arjevica didn’t have open-air markets like Kota Gelangi—or if it did, she couldn’t find them. It was all grand avenues and fancy shops, and the owners watched her suspiciously from the moment she entered.
When night fell, she found a park bench across from a large building with illuminated columns and richly dressed people going in and out. She burrowed into her peacoat and tried not to drift off. At least it was a nice neighborhood. She’d be less likely to get robbed. But if anyone tried, she was ready.
One pocket held the loaded pistol, the other her pouch of kaldurite. The stones were worth a fortune to the right buyer, but she wouldn’t make the same mistake as before. Witches had spies in every gem district. She couldn’t just walk into a shop and try to sell them. No, she needed a plan. A smart one.
Problem was, she felt too hungry and exhausted to think straight. She dozed sitting upright on the bench, jerking into wakefulness every few minutes. When dawn came, she was more tired than she had been the night before.
“Sorry to bother you, miss, but are you alright?”
Kal looked up. A youngish woman stood over her, bespectacled and wearing a yellow headscarf. Her eyes were dark brown so she wasn’t a witch.
“Fine,” she replied, licking dry lips. “Just resting.”
The woman smiled. “To be honest, you look like you could use a hot breakfast.”
Kal wished she’d go away. The park was coming alive with people, but none of them even glanced at the filthy girl on the bench. What did this woman want?
Back in Pota Pras, she’d known a girl named Nina. When they were in their last year of school, a woman with red-painted fingernails and glamorous clothes came to town. She went around chatting up the prettiest girls. Kal didn’t like her, but the woman never approached Kal anyway. People whispered that she was with a theater company in Kota Gelangi and traveled the province looking for fresh talent. Nina signed a contract with her and they left on the riverboat together.
Her family never heard from her again. When they went to the city and sought help from the cyphers, they found out that the theater didn’t exist. Nina had vanished.
“I’m not selling my body,” Kal growled. “So piss off.”
The woman blinked. “You misunderstand. I teach at the Lenormand School.” She held out a hand. “Let us start over. My name is Manij.”
Kal eyed the soft, plump hand but didn’t shake it. “That’s not a Rus name.”
“Because I am Bactrian.” Manij smiled. “I came to Arjevica seven years ago.”
“Good for you.” Kal folded her arms.
Manij’s gaze was knowing. “The Lenormand School is for young women who have nowhere else to go. I thought you might fit that category.”
“No, thanks,” Kal said. “I’m doing just fine.”
