Leaning down so the lion could see my gesture, I pointed at the rifleman. “Get him, Sher-sah.”
The lion leapt, and I held fast, clinging to his back and shoulders until my muscles and joints screamed, but my body’s protests were soon drowned out by the shrieks of Sher-sah’s first victim. My stomach turned over, and bile rose in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed my disgust. Getting mauled by a lion was a horrible way to die. I regretted the necessity of it while accepting that the brigands lived by a violent code, and when they attacked us, they were accepting these kinds of consequences. I might have to do worse for the sake of my people, some day.
As soon as the lion slowed, I slipped to the ground and snatched the rifle from the fallen man, ignoring the blood spattered on the stock and barrel. Whipping around, I caught Gideon’s opponent in my gun sights and pulled the trigger. Perhaps I should have hesitated, should have questioned my intentions, but the only instinct that drove me was the one demanding I protect Gideon.
Not that I should have worried. Making a shot with precise aim required either an innate talent or lots of practice. I had neither. A red bloom of blood stained the giant man’s shirt, proving I’d managed, at least, to nick his shoulder. My shot distracted him long enough for Gideon to step back and steady his aim, proving he harbored no reservations about the necessity of killing in this situation. Sephonie let loose a bolt with a sharp thwack! The giant clutched his chest over his heart, and blood poured between his fingers. He staggered, sank to his knees, and groaned. Moments later, he pitched to the ground face-first.
“Evie.” Gideon glared at me. “What are you doing here?”
“Making sure you’re all right.”
Sher-sah roared again, taking down another would-be attacker before he could fire on us.
“You promised you wouldn’t do anything reckless.”
“I also promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you if there was something I could do about it. I might not have my lightning, but Sher-sah is almost as good.”
His gaze shifted, and he studied the scene behind me, taking in the wreckage and chaos.He lowered his voice. “Where’s Karolina?”
“Invisible if she has any sense. She’s wearing my Thunder Cloak.”
He nodded. “Good. Now if only you had that much sense.”
“Don’t start with me—” A howl rose above the shouting and shooting, a cry both grievous and heartbreaking. Everyone seemed to pause and listen. “What was that?”
Gideon shook his head, and we both hurried forward, running toward the cry. Sher-sah flanked us, deterring interference.
As we reached the middle of the wagon train, I glanced overhead and caught a flash of red curls. Henri’s assistant, Jacqueline, had come running, too, taking an elevated route. She peered at us from her rooftop perch and pointed at an emerald-green wagon several yards down. “Camilla.”
A cold shiver raised gooseflesh along my arms and shoulders. Without waiting for Gideon’s response, I ordered Sher-sah to follow as I ran for the Bianchis’ collection of carts. The lion and I wheeled around the rear corner of Camilla’s wagon. The battered rear door stood ajar, obviously hacked open with something sharp and brutal. The Bianchi matriarch stood in the doorway, her face ashen, hands trembling as she clutched the wall for support. “I miei bambini,” she moaned. “Loro hanno preso I miei bambini.”
“They took the children,” Gideon translated before questioning Camilla. “Quale via?”
She raised a shaky, gnarled finger and pointed up the roadway to where the path disappeared into a narrow crevice between two towering rock walls.
“Of course they went that way,” I grumbled
“Stay here, Evie,” Gideon said. “Please.”
I tapped Sher-sah’s shoulder, and when the lion crouched, I swung myself onto his back. “Just try to stop me.”
“I’m the one who made the promise to protect this circus.”
I snarled at him, even though my heartbeat thundered in my ears and fear, like acid, burned in my veins. “You don’t get to be the only hero, Gideon.”
His eyes widened in obvious dismay. “You’re doing this because you want to be a hero?”
“No, I’m going after them because I swore this circus would come to no harm because of me. I’m going after them because I can, and it’s the right thing to do.” And I was convinced leaving Gideon to watch over the rest of the circus was also the right thing to do, too. I wrapped my hands in the lion’s reins and thumped my heel against his side as Gideon growled an indefinable sound of anger and exasperation. Sher-sah darted around the wagon and sprinted up the roadway, dodging bandits and circus members, including Falak, who waved his pistol overhead as we passed. Relief washed over me. I was glad to see he was still alive and unharmed.
“Where are you going?” he shouted.
I pointed at the crevice up the road. “After the Bianchi children.”
“Good luck,” he said as he turned and fired a shot toward a target on the opposite side of his wagon.
The lion surged ahead, and we left the skirmish behind. Except for the occasional pop of gunfire, the roar of battle faded away. Perhaps I’d acted rashly, going off alone, but knowing Gideon, he’d be fast on my trail once he retrieved his horse. If he caught up with me, I’d welcome his help, but the Bianchi children couldn’t afford hesitation. Their kidnapper’s trail was still warm, and I had to find it before it faded.
When we reached the crevice, Sher-sah’s pace slowed. Steep and narrow rock walls blocked the sunlight, casting deep shadows, and each sound, each footstep reverberated, turning the solitary Sher-sah into an army of invisible lions. If I’d been on my horse, I would’ve reined back, slowing our pace, quieting the horse’s steps so I could listen for the kidnapper’s presence. The lion required no such allowances. He’d downed Genevieve’s abductors without my assistance, and I trusted him to do the same for the Bianchi boy and girl.
I should have learned their names. The acrobats had kept their offspring close and often secluded. Although their faces were familiar, I’d never learned more about them. My own problems had been too immediate and pressing to worry about making the acquaintance of each circus member. I regretted my myopic focus, but listing my shortcomings wouldn’t help Camilla’s grandchildren now.
A far-off wail, so quiet it barely rose above the clamor of Sher-sah’s footsteps, echoed through the narrow canyon. It sounded like the cry of a young child. “Hear that?” I asked.
But the cat had superior hearing and was already running again, racing around each sharp curve with deadly speed. I gritted my teeth and prayed for the strength to hold on a bit longer.
The road widened, the gloom faded, and the improved light revealed a scene so surprising and terrible that my mind scrambled to understand it.
There, in a spot where the pathway was wide enough to encompass the Brigands’ superior numbers, stood one of the highwayman, dismounted from his horse. He clutched two wriggling, crying, frightened children in his arms. At his back stood a dozen-or-so men and women, all bearing weapons, all with the stances and sneering, snarling expressions of vicious fighters. They wore an eclectic mixture of styles and fabrics, fashions and accessories they must have claimed from countless victims.
One of the Brigands, a woman, gave me a fierce grimace, revealing a gold tooth. She wore a black top hat and a pale-green silk tunic over black trousers.
The Kerch herself, I presumed.
She held a pistol, a huge brass thing that looked as though it could take down an elephant. She pointed the gun at me and winked as Sher-sah slowed to a halt. “Nett von Ihnen, uns zu verbinden, Stormbourne.” Nice of you to join us, Stormbourne.
She had spoken in Dreutchish and knew my name. My stomach dropped to my feet. “H-how...?”
She flicked her wrist, jiggling her gun in a gesture of dismissal. “Oh, m’lady,” she clicked her tongue and shook her head, “Le Poing Fermé has told me all about you.”
