Queen of Thieves

chapter 33

Zayn was having a minor freak-out.

Okay, it was major. A major freak-out.

He pressed a hand to his ribcage, wincing at the boniness of it. He was so hungry that he felt sick; or maybe he just felt sick in general. The girl who looked like his sister was stalking ahead, her bloodied fingers sending out showers of purple sparks, and Zayn squinted his eyes and tried to make her be Zelda.

But he couldn't.

Zayn felt a fresh wave of panic. Oh, god. What the hell was he going to do? Next to him, Bea was humming to herself, her eyes fixed on the burning palace ahead of them. Her belt of knives slapped against her small waist.

Zayn couldn't take it anymore.

"Is it possible to fix her?" he demanded.

Bea looked at him sharply. "Fix who?"

Zayn nodded to Zelda, and Bea's expression turned to incredulity. "Humans," she muttered. "You're unbelievable."

"Is that a yes?"

"No," she said sharply. "She doesn't need fixing. She's—" Bea looked at a loss for words. "You really don't get it, do you?" She shook her head, sending red curls flying. "You know what? Never mind. Take this." To Zayn's horror, she pressed a knife into his hand. "You know how to use one, right?"

"Yeah, on food," Zayn said incredulously. "You don't actually expect me to stab someone with this, do you?"

But Bea never got the chance to answer; a man with bronzed skin was waiting for them at the gates to the city, leaning casually against a stone wall. Bea's entire body stiffened. Zayn frowned. The man didn't look particularly dangerous; he was dressed in jeans and a black sweater, and he wasn't carrying any sort of weapon. But the way that Bea was looking at him, you would think he was packing a handful of AK-47s under his clothing.

"Bearami," he said calmly. "Where's Augustus?"

He tilted his head, and for the first time, Zayn noticed that there was something glittering in his hair. No, not glittering — burning. A crown made of flames.

Her face tightened. "Go to the Rim."

"Now, now," he said in amusement. "Is that any way to speak to your father?"

Bea shifted slightly, and it took Zayn a second to understand what she was doing; she was blocking Zelda from sight. "Let us pass."

"I've sent soldiers to the palace." He took a step forward. "But you wouldn't leave Gus with a stranger, would you?"

Bea's hand went to her knives. "Stay where you are."

"Oh, dear." The man made a tutting noise. "You've become sloppy, darling." His hand clutched something silver. "And I can't have a sloppy daughter."

Zayn understood what was going to happen in pieces. Knife. Throwing it. Bea. Panic made his vision go white, and Zayn threw himself at the stranger. The knife flew wide, striking an overturned cart, and they tumbled to the ground in an inelegant pile. Bea shouted a warning, and Zayn felt a searing pain explode down his arm.

Fire.

He was on fire.

The stranger grabbed for him, and unthinkingly, Zayn drew back and drove the knife directly into the man's chest. He made a terrible gurgling noise, and Zayn launched off of him, rolling on the grass in a desperate attempt to smother the flames. Small hands grabbed at his arms, and he shook them off.

"Don't," he gasped. "Your hands—"

"Hold still, you idiot," Bea snapped. "I'm trying to help you."