VIOLENT TIDES (gxg - editing)

30

Ainsley stayed where she was until she heard the sound of people approaching, accompanied by the jangle of chain mail and horse hooves on cobblestone. Then she began to walk in the opposite direction through the narrow alley, taking fast, rushed steps through the winding path. There was no point in running and drawing attention to herself.

A shadow passed overhead, and Ainsley pressed herself against the wall, hoping it wouldn't smell her. A heavy black creature swept past, wings outstretched on either side in a slow glide.

So the letter had been telling the truth. Ackerley controlled the dragons now.

Ainsley waited until the beast had passed, then continued, watching the star-specked sky above her and barely able to hear her footsteps over the sound of her heart hammering in her rib cage. When she adjusted her grip on the hilt of Gael's cutlass, it slid around in her palm, slick with sweat by now.

If her father had used dark magic, his control would be greater than hers. For the second time in her life, Ainsley had only herself to rely on. And unless she could find Gael's crew, she would be vastly outnumbered.

But Gael wouldn't know where she had gone now, wouldn't know where to look for her. She should've stayed put, but then she would have been found out. The conflict made Ainsley's head hurt.

Maybe she needed to find Gael first. She was going to search for the crew—so maybe Ainsley should wait for them near the Finch, rather than running in circles through the city, trying to find them.

Ainsley stepped out of the alleyway and directly into a gaping, toothy maw.

A surprised gasp escaped her lips, and she stumbled backwards, nearly falling over an uneven stone. Huge golden eyes burned into her, sending a nervous shiver down her spine. For a moment, she was completely captivated, in awe at the sight of the beast that blocked her way. A low growl sounded from its serpentine throat.

So this was what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a dragon's hostility.

Swallowing, Ainsley leaned towards it slightly, trying to touch its mind. It was to no avail—it was completely inaccessible, as though it had been shrouded and blocked off completely. It should've felt her panic, should be helping her right now. But all she met when she tried to connect with it was cold emptiness.

In one last ditch effort, she reached out and placed both her hands on the dragon's snout, digging her fingers into its scales and desperately trying to channel something. It shrieked and reared up on its hind legs, wings flaring out on either side and blocking out the rising moon. Ainsley's heart plummeted. A spout of flame burst from its jaws, throwing light and heat over her face.

There were hurried footsteps from the direction she'd come, and Ainsley whirled to face them, throwing herself into the fray before the soldiers got a chance to surround her.

Her attack surprised them, she knew. She felt the blade of her cutlass dig deep into some patch of unprotected skin, and one of the guards screamed in pain. Her elbow smacked hard against someone's chain mail, so she aimed for unhelmeted heads instead.

She never got a chance to guess how many there were, surrounded in a flurry of movement and the dark shroud of the alleyway. She fought in an animalistic frenzy, determined to cause whatever harm she could in the few split seconds of surprise she had.

A hand found the back of her cloak and she was forcible heaved to the side. Her back hit a wall and pain shot through her, but she leapt to her feet anyways, cutlass already out in front of her. She made contact with someone again, but this time, their foot found her chest, and she was shoved backwards into someone's arms. She dug her blade into their leg where the chain mail ended, and the choking grip around her fell away. She jerked away before she could be grabbed or hit again, and ran back the way she'd come, breathing hard.