“What would the good kind of trouble be like?” I asked. “And why would it be trouble?”
Valaine exhaled, unwavering in her analysis of me. “The good kind of trouble makes your heart want to sing. You’re tempted to smile and laugh more. It’s a wonderful sensation, especially when you realize you’re fascinated, that you want to know all there is to know about this person. But it’s trouble because it is most likely short-lived. People come and people go… especially your kind here, on Visio.”
“You see an end where one hasn’t been written, then,” I said, following her reasoning.
“Perhaps we should save this conversation for another time,” Valaine replied, finally looking away. Something snapped inside me, as if she’d just released me from a most powerful telepathic hold. My chest hummed, my skin tingled… such strange sensations to experience around this creature. “Everything’s all murder and mayhem now.”
I found an ounce of courage somehow, partly emboldened by the prospect of being that good sort of trouble that Valaine seemed to appreciate. “Maybe over a glass of blood, one of these nights?” I asked, and she looked at me again, this time with newfound wonder.
“One of these nights… Yes.”
Somewhere behind her, on a street parallel to ours, in another junction, I caught movement. Instinctively, I gripped Valaine’s wrist and pulled her closer to me.
“What the…” I heard myself mumble.
To my astonishment, I saw Esme and Kalon running after someone in a long cloak. He was a good fifty yards ahead of them, despite his limping. He must’ve dodged them somehow.
“Is that your sister?” Valaine asked, as Esme and Kalon both disappeared behind buildings. “And Kalon? Was I seeing that right?”
“I think you were,” I replied, then reached out to my sister. “Telluris, Esme! Where are you running off to?”
Her voice came through, slightly gravelly and panting. “Chasing a Red Thread!”
I wanted to ask for details, but others ran after her and Kalon and the limping guy. Dozens of people, actually, covered in long, dark red cloaks. They came through from different alleys, from multiple angles—all of them converging on the junction through which my sister had just passed.
“Oh, that can’t be good,” Valaine said, watching them go.
The silvery shimmer of a blade emerged from one of the cloaks. “They’ve got weapons,” I breathed, fear clutching my throat. My sister was in potentially mortal danger, with so many fiends after them.
Valaine started running. “Come!” she said. “They need us!”
Indeed, Esme and Kalon needed us. There were two of them against at least three dozen creatures. They weren’t as fast as the Aeternae, but they were light on their feet, and they carried the element of surprise, because I doubted my sister had become aware of them.
She was too focused on catching the Red Thread. Chances were her pursuers were his colleagues, and that they weren’t going to let go without a fight. Without hesitation, I bolted after Valaine, and we made our way up the street.
Ahead, we could both see them—now five dozen cloaked figures, running as fast as their feet could carry them, swords dangling from their belts underneath. Oh, Esme, you’re in so much trouble…
Esme
My brother’s voice came through Telluris. “Esme, just a brief heads up. You’re being followed!”
“You never told me Rimians could run this fast, Kalon!” I exclaimed. “Also, we’re being followed, according to my brother.”
“How do you know?” Kalon replied.
“He just told me!” I knew he was probably somewhere nearby, likely with Valaine. Chances were they’d join us soon enough, since we were in clear need of assistance.
“Right, Telluris. Your soul bond,” Kalon huffed.
Kalon and I had been chasing this guy for about two blocks. We were closing in on him, but even so, his speed was ridiculous.
We finally made a tight left turn and found ourselves in an empty market square. The Rimian waited, smack in the middle, panting and sweating rivers. He took his hood off, heated by his insane run.
“You need to explain yourself!” I shouted, pointing an angry finger at him.
Kalon and I stopped, taken aback by the silence surrounding us. I was hoping my brother would show up soon. Something stank to high heaven here.
The Rimian grinned, looking deeply satisfied with himself. “I gave you a good run, didn’t I?”
“What’s so funny? I messed up one of your knees. How were you even able to move this fast?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Little-known fact about Rimians—those of us raised at home, in our deserts and stone cities, in particular,” he replied. “We’re trained to outrun the Aeternae, if needed. Like the deer in your woods, running from the spot wolves.”
I looked at Kalon. “Is he for real?”
“If he was raised on Rimia, especially with this anti-Aeternae sentiment, then yeah. I’d think it’s possible,” Kalon said. “Most of the Rimians born or raised here from a younger age are not as athletic. But back in their homeland, in those dry and desert conditions… I can see it happening. After all, their bone structure and musculature are designed for such feats.”
“And you didn’t know?”
“Most of the Rimians he deals with are domesticated,” the Rimian interjected. “Rarely do any of us rise up and challenge his kind. Let’s just say this is one of the traits we’ve tried to keep to ourselves, especially for occasions such as this.”
“I’m baffled. And your knee?” I asked.
The Rimian grimaced as he leaned into his bum leg. “Oh, it hurts like hell. But I’ve got a high pain threshold. I suppose the adrenaline played a part, as well. I had to get out of that house.”
“And come here? For what… Oh.” My brain was ahead of me on this one, already sensing danger. He’d brought us out here in the open because he was not alone anymore. After all, Tristan had just told us we were being followed.
Seconds later, the square was suddenly busy with about five dozen Red Thread faction members, most of them cloaked in dark red and carrying swords. Kalon cursed under his breath. “He lured us.”
