Secret Seller: Prequel to The Famine Cycle, an epic fantasy thief saga

10: Alley Secrets

She waited for us in a nearby alley.

As I approached the feral warden, a kitchen knife pressing into the small of my back, the blue light of pre-dawn only vaguely making anything visible, I knew I was likely walking to my death. It gave an unreal sense to everything, as if I hadn't actually awoken, but was stuck in a dream, a dream in which everything I had feared and everything I had worked toward came crumbling down around me. Yet I knew it wasn't so. This was the reality I had made. The sum of my mistakes.

"Airene," Iela greeted me. Even her voice made me grow cold. She looked much the same as she had when I'd seen her enter Feiyan's estate the night before.

"Iela," I said through numb lips.

"I suppose we are beyond introductions." She smiled thinly. "We both know so much about each other already, and yet we're only just meeting. Isn't it odd?"

I could think of no other response than the one question that had hounded me since Eazal had led me from Canopy's door. "Why did you bring me here?"

Her eyes widened in mock surprise. "Why? If you haven't figured that much out, Airene, you are not the Finch I thought you were."

That struck a spark of anger back in me, a hint of warmth amidst the cold of fear. I grasped at it, trying to fan it into further flames. I had a feeling I would need it to survive this.

"But I do have one more selfish purpose," she continued in a soft voice. "You see, Airene, I do not like people who meddle in my affairs. Particularly when they bring the eye of the Underguild upon me." She shook her head. "Perhaps I could have forgiven you if you had not reached that far. But this will cause many problems for me. It cannot stand."

I stared at her in sullen silence, trying to hold onto my anger. My hand itched to reach for the knife prodding my back, but I restrained myself. It was foolish to reach for it now when she could kill me with a flick of her hand. I had to wait for an opportunity, if one would ever come.

"And so," the silver-haired woman continued, "before I kill you, I want you to see how thoroughly you've failed your family." Her smile grew wider. "I want you to know that the person responsible for your brother's disappearance all those years ago is standing before you."

I stared at her, uncomprehending for a moment. The barrage of revelations in the situation — and her admission of her intentions for me — left me dazed and weak. "Thero?" I asked uncertainly.

"Ah, how slowly you recall him," she mocked. "Thero! Or do you not remember discovering him dead in the canal, horrible marks etched across his face?"

I could not speak, but stared at her as the anger burned brighter.

"He seemed so promising too," Iela said with a mocking smile. "Full of potential, like tinder ready to ignite. But like so many before him, my master could not tap that power inside him. And so he..." She shrugged. "He fizzled out."

Quivering with the rage I held inside, it was all I could to do stay in place.

She glanced at Eazal, who cowered against the wall, shrinking into himself as if the feral warden might forget he was there. "But now that I have the apothecary, I think our progress will come more swiftly. And my dream — and my master's dream — will finally come to pass."

I took a step toward her. I knew it was foolish and utter idiocy to consider making a move against her when she was fully aware. Yet the hatred burning inside me was like nothing I'd felt before. In my work, I had always been cool and distant and maintained a level head. But she had told me that she and her master had killed Thero. He had been subject to their experiments. And I couldn't help but picture myself pulling out the knife and stabbing it through her chest.

Iela must have seen something of the rage in my eyes, for she smiled widely. "Ah, there it is. What I've been waiting for." She raised her hand. "Now, I think I'll get some satisfaction out of your death."

Not waiting for her to channel, I dashed forward and drew out the knife. Iela looked surprised for a moment, then the smile returned, and something emitted from her hand. A frigid gale hit me with a force that knocked the breath out of me, and though I had been running, I found my limbs wearying and slowing. I sank to my knees, shivering, the knife nearly falling from my nerveless grip. Never before had I been so cold. I could barely think through it.

"Release the knife now, Airene," Iela chided, continuing to channel a flurry of frozen air around me. "I have enjoyed your struggles, but it's time to let it end."

In defiance of my screaming body, I looked up at her through frosted eyelashes. I would not die on my knees and bowing before her. If I had to die, I would be staring her in the eyes. It was this last spark of defiance that I clung to as my mind began to shut down.

Something moved behind her. For a moment, I thought I had begun to hallucinate. Then I saw it again. From the rooftops above, a dark figure jumped down toward the feral warden, something blazing white-hot in its hand.

As the figure leaped onto Iela and thrust its glowing hand at her, the cold surrounding me dissipated with a scream of the feral warden's surprise. She fell and rolled with the other figure, writhing and screaming as they fought like alley cats. My joints stiff with cold and my muscles leaden with it, I forced myself to stand, the kitchen knife still somehow in my grip. My vision swam, but slowly I started to make out who it was that struggled against the feral warden with what looked like a stake in its hand. I blinked. Against all reason, I suddenly saw it was Talan.

The thought stuck, as frozen in my mind as my body. That stake glowed with radiance. Which meant Talan was a warden.

But I didn't take time to consider it. Stumbling forward, I took an account of the fight. Talan and Iela were locked in a deadly embrace. His stake had pierced her gut, and a glow pulsed around it. But Iela, her face a mask of rage and pain, had her hands on his arms, and where her fingers touched, patches of ice blossomed over his clothes. From Talan's pained expression, her channeling reached beyond the fabric.

I moved my stiff legs closer as they continued to struggle on the ground, fire and ice battling for dominance. I limped up next to the struggling pair and stood over them, gripping the knife as hard as I could. Iela's bloodshot eyes found me, going wide when she realized my intentions. She tried ripping one off of Talan's arm, but she'd sealed her own fate — the ice locked her in for a moment too long.

With a scream that came from somewhere deep inside me, I raised the knife and stabbed it down into her throat.