The contents of my stomach surged up my throat. Breath turned to dust on my tongue. “Wha—” The words lodged in my dry throat. I swallowed and tried again. “What do you know about Le Poing Fermé?”
If I were riding Adaleiz, I would have tugged her reins, encouraging her to step back and put distance between me and the rough-and-tumble group before us. Sher-sah, however, refused a saddle and bridle. Instead, he and I relied on voice cues, gestures, and intuition. Wishing he could read my mind, I patted his neck and tightened my legs around him, signaling him to wait for my lead. I needed him to play along but also prepare for attack. No matter what happened to me, the Bianchis deserved every chance for rescue.
Again, the Kerch gestured with her gun. A black braid threaded with silver hairs trailed over her shoulder. Gold-rimmed spectacles balanced atop her long, thin nose. “You do not get to ask those kinds of questions, m’lady.” Her thick accent made her words difficult to decipher. “You only get to follow orders, and if you are polite about it, I will make certain my troop treat you kindly.”
Her “troop” stared at me, some with anger, some with hunger. None inspired belief in their capacity for kindness. “And if I’m not polite?”
She swung the gun barrel around and aimed it at the children. “These two will pay for your rudeness.”
“What do you want?”
She raised a shoulder and dropped it. “I want you. For the children.”
“Fine. It’s a deal.” No doubts, not a single hesitation entered my thoughts—not because I was noble or brave, but because Le Poing Fermé, and especially Jackie Faercourt, needed me. It was the same need that saved me when he sent Vanessa to Prigha Castle. He had prohibited her from killing me then, and the Kerch must have been similarly forbidden. So long as I remained alive and uninjured, I could find a way to escape. I’d done it before. Surely I could do it again.
As if sensing my surrender, Sher-sah let out a low, soft growl. He stepped back a pace. I patted him again, stroking his shoulder.
The Kerch narrowed her eyes at the lion. “You must call off your beast. Send him away.”
Slowly, I slid from the lion’s back, but kept one hand on his side, over his ribs—or where his ribs should have been if he were flesh and bone. “That may be easier said than done. This beast has a mind of his own, and he’s very protective.”
Sher-sah growled, emphasizing my point. Several Brigands behind the Kerch shifted, shuffling their feet, giving each other uneasy looks. Perhaps they had mistaken me for an easy target—a spoiled, soft, defenseless young woman. Apparently when Le Poing Fermé had scryed my location, they hadn’t realized Sher-sah was part of the bargain.
The Kerch raised her huge pistol and thumbed the hammer. “The lion will not be a problem.”
“Do you think a bullet is enough to stop him?” A hint of humor flavored my words. “He’s mechanical. You can’t kill him.” Because he’s already dead.
“Put enough bullets in the right places, and anything can be brought down.”
Her point was a feasible one, not that she needed to know that. I arched an eyebrow and sneered. “You’re sure about that? You’re sure you can put him down before he puts you down?”
I raised both hands shoulder high, palms forward, fingers splayed in a gesture of surrender. Stepping away from the lion, I made my movements slow and deliberate, both for his sake and the Kerch’s. “I’ll come willingly. No one has to get hurt. Let the children go, and I’ll leave with you in peace.”
She turned to the man holding the Bianchi children and said something in a low, harsh tone. He nodded, lowered onto one knee, and set the children on their feet, but kept them close. Their struggles had eased as fear and uncertainty took over. The little girl held herself rigid, although her eyes were huge and round. The boy, obviously a bit younger than his sister, sniffed as tears streamed down his cheeks. Both had pinned their attention on me.
I slipped forward another step. “Sher-sah, take the children to Camilla. Protect them as if they were your own cubs.”
“Slowly.” The Kerch motioned me forward with a waggle of her gun.
Although I’d made up my mind to give myself up to the Kerch and her Brigands, each step forward fell heavier and heavier as though I were trudging through mud. Gideon’s going to be so, so angry about this. I hadn’t thought of him until that moment, and the fact that he hadn’t already appeared surprised me. When I left the circus train, I’d been certain he would follow as fast as he could.
When only a few yards remained between me and the Thaulgant Brigands, I stopped. “Now, let the children go.”
The Kerch tilted her head and squinted at me. Her glasses magnified her eyes so that she looked almost insectile, like a moth in her green silk tunic. “I think I have changed my mind. I have not gotten this far in life by letting potential profit walk away, and these little darlings could bring me a great deal of income.”
She jerked her head and shouted something in a foreign tongue. Her men responded by hurrying to surround me. They hadn’t gone far when a gunshot from somewhere behind me sent everyone skittering, including the man who had been holding the Bianchi children. He left them standing together as he backed away. Another shot threw up a spurt of dust at the feet of the thief standing closest to me.
Sher-sah roared.
The Bianchi children screamed, and then....
They disappeared.
My mind blanked at the improbability, but understanding soon clicked into place. My Thunder Cloak! The children’s sudden disappearance meant the princess had somehow followed me here.
“Get the kids and run, Genevieve!” I lurched toward Sher-sah, stumbling over my own feet. When I recovered my balance, I flung myself at him, running as fast as I could.
Another gun, most likely the Kerch’s pistol, answered the first shooter with big explosive booms that pounded against my eardrums. Everything swirled into a chaos of gunshots, yelling, and children’s screams. Over the pandemonium, a voice rang out, calling my name.
I glanced away from Sher-sah’s side and saw Gideon mounted atop a rearing Wallah. “Get out of here, Evie!” He leveled his crossbow and let off a bolt. Beside him, standing with his legs braced wide apart, Falak shot into the crowd with his ancient pistol.
The lion hunched, lowering his shoulder so I could mount. I raised a foot, preparing to throw my leg across the lion’s back, but an explosion of fire, heat, and pain tore through my chest with enough force and violence to toss me aside like an old used rag.
I hit the dirt rolling head over heels and gasped for a breath that refused to come. My chest burned as if an oil lantern had exploded inside me and the fire consumed my air.
“Evie!” Gideon screamed my name, but I was too breathless, too overwhelmed by a blaze of agony, to respond.
The gunfire diminished. So did the murky sunlight.
My pulse thumped in my ears, but it also faded.
And then...
Then...
Nothing.
Chapter 22
