Lilia turned back and thrust one of the cups toward him. “Here you are then.”
He took it from her although she could feel his gaze on her face. “You’re flushed—are you unwell.”
She shook her head. “My shadow just spoke to me again.”
His face turned serious. “What did it say?”
“It told me its behavior is linked to The King Breaker.”
Dain raised the cup to his lips and drained it in a couple of gulps. “Anything else?”
“It wants to learn from me.” She didn’t tell him that the shadow had also insinuated that she was a pathetic wretch and a poor judge of character.
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
Dain looked about to say something else when the door behind Lilia leading to the common room flew open, and Ryana strode out into the courtyard. One look at her told Lilia she was leaving. She wore leggings, high boots and a tunic belted at the waist with a woolen travelling cloak about her shoulders. As always, she wore her fingerless gloves, which Lilia now knew were to protect her real identity. She also carried a leather satchel slung across her front and a weathered ash staff in her right hand.
Ryana’s face was stern, her gaze troubled.
“Thought you’d be far from here by now,” Dain greeted her. He reached for his tunic and shrugged it on, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm.
“I had business in town,” Ryana replied, her gaze snapping to Lilia. “There are strangers at port. You’re not safe here.”
Lilia frowned. “Pardon?”
Ryana stepped forward, her tall, athletic frame emanating tension. “A galleon has dropped anchor in the harbor and boatloads of men have come ashore.”
Lilia’s pulse accelerated.
A galleon.
“What’s that got to do with me?”
Ryana made an impatient gesture. “They’re asking if anyone has seen a tall, dark-haired man with a southern accent.”
Lilia’s stomach twisted. “Saul,” she murmured. He’d told her he commanded that ship, but if that was the truth why were those men hunting him?
Ryana’s mouth compressed. “Clearly, but it’s The King Breaker they want.”
“But they don’t know Lilia has it,” Dain pointed out. “She should be safe if she keeps out of sight.”
Ryana raked an exasperated hand through her unbound hair. “They’ve already clashed with the Port Guard. Now, they’re scouring the town as I speak, going from house to house and questioning folk.” Her gaze shifted to Lilia. “Do you really think you can hide from them in here?”
Lilia swallowed, aware that her legs felt weak and nausea now crept up her throat. “Who are they?”
Ryana’s lips parted to answer but another did so in her stead; a man’s voice—low and self-confident. “They are The Shade Brotherhood.”
All three of them stiffened before turning toward the voice. A tall, cloaked figure stepped out from the shadow of the stables behind them. Saul of Anthor had entered the courtyard through the narrow wooden gate at the back and had been listening to their conversation unseen.
Ryana folded her arms across her chest and regarded him coolly. “I was wondering when you’d be back.”
Ignoring her, Saul’s gaze went to Lilia, the intensity of it pinning her to the spot.
“Hello.”
Lilia stared at him. Over the past few months, she’d convinced herself that Saul was never coming back. Learning the value of the stone he’d left in her keeping had made her rethink that belief—yet it was still a shock to see him standing there. Before yesterday she’d have been overjoyed at his reappearance, now it only worried her. He wasn’t the man she thought he was—how did she know everything he’d said wasn’t lies?
“Good morning, Saul,” she replied. Suddenly, she didn’t know what to think.
“You can dispense with the charm,” Ryana cut in, her tone sharp at being ignored. “We know what you gave Lilia, you’re not getting it back.”
Saul glanced over at Ryana, his handsome features tightening. “You’ve got a lot to say for yourself, scop,” he growled. “Lilia and I had an agreement.” His gaze shifted back to Lilia and he smiled. “As you might have guessed I’m in a hurry. I thought I’d travelled back here unseen, but it appears The Brotherhood have spies everywhere.”
Lilia scowled. “You lied to me.”
He made a dismissive gesture. “I did it to protect you—it was better you didn’t know.” His gaze narrowed then, before he glanced from Ryana to Dain. “I’m amazed you discovered the truth for yourself.”
His comment made her anger rise. “Really? Aren’t I clever enough?”
He smiled and took a step toward her. “Come, none of us have time for this. Give me back my charm stone, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Not another step.” Dain had picked up his axe and stepped forward between Lilia and Saul. Likewise, Ryana placed herself in his path, her staff raised.
Saul gave a soft laugh, not remotely intimidated. He looked over Dain’s shoulder at Lilia and grinned. “Have you employed bodyguards now?”
Lilia reached up, her hand fastening over the charm stone underneath her blouse. “You’re not taking it,” she told him firmly.
His smile twisted. “I don’t want this to get bloody—don’t make me hurt you.”
“Fool,” Ryana snarled. “You took The King Breaker out of its iron casing and gave it to her. Don’t you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Saul’s blank look told them all that he didn’t.
“The stone has a protection charm woven into it,” Ryana confirmed. “If you want it, you’ll have to kill Lilia first.”
Ryana’s words made Lilia’s belly cramp. Her fingers closed tight over the stone; even through the linen of her blouse she could feel its chill, burning like ice. Gods, how she wanted to tear it off and throw it at Saul; however the need to protect it rose so strong within her it was as if she was defending her newborn child. Ryana was right; he’d have to rip it from her lifeless fingers before she’d give it up.
Things might have gone ill then, for Dain and Ryana moved closer together, forming a wall between Lilia and Saul, while he reached for one of the many knives strapped to his body.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The sound of a heavy fist thundering against The Grey Anchor’s front door, caused all four of them to freeze.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
“All right.” Ailin’s harassed voice reached them. He must have left the common room and gone down into the cellar. “Keep your cloaks on, I’m coming.”
Saul’s expression turned hunted and he uttered a low curse under his breath. “They’re here.”
A wave of terror crashed over Lilia and her legs suddenly went weak. The world tilted, and she thought she might faint.
Ryana wheeled, eyes wild. “We need to go.”
Dain started. “What, now?”
“Unless you want to start swinging that axe at trained killers, yes.” It was Saul who answered. “I have a boat moored on the northern coast of the isle. We can escape in it.”
Dain’s face twisted. “We’re not going anywhere with you.”
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
“Open this door or we’ll break it down!” A deep voice from the street beyond reached them. The voice was slightly muffled but the menace in it made Lilia start to shake.
“Take your chances here then,” Saul snarled back at Dain.
“If he’s got a boat, it’s our only chance to get off the isle,” Ryana replied. Her gaze was riveted upon the open door that led to the common room. “In a few moments, we won’t have a choice. I say we take Saul’s offer and run.”
“We can’t trust him,” Dain shot back.
“Right now, we don’t have any choice,” Ryana reminded him.
“I can’t leave,” Lilia burst out, panicked. “I need to pack first.” Her treasures, the items she’d brought from home, sat on her bedside table. She couldn’t go anywhere without them.
“No time for that,” Saul whirled and strode toward the gate at the back of the courtyard. “We go now or not at all.”
Dain spat out a curse before spinning round and grabbing Lilia by the arm. She struggled against him.
“Stop! What are you doing?”
“Saving your life.”
Ryana stepped forward, grabbed Lilia by the other arm, and together they dragged her after Saul.
Panic surged through Lilia. She was leaving with nothing more than the clothes on her back. She had few possessions but the ones she did own meant everything to her; she felt desperate at the thought of leaving them behind. She struggled against Lilia and Dain, but they held her fast.
There was no time for goodbyes. Dain did not even have time to warn his parents. His grip on her arm was crushing, the only sign that their urgent departure bothered him. The morning sun glinted off the axe-blade he carried in his left hand, reminding Lilia just how real the danger was.
They ran through the outskirts of Port Needle, up to a narrow staircase that took them to the top of the East Terrace and along a damp alleyway that smelt of mildew. A short while later, all of them breathing hard and their faces glowing with sweat, they emerged onto the High Road.
Lilia halted and looked back over Port Needle, a cooling breeze fanning her face. The cliffs gave way to rocky headland. Slate and thatched roofs tumbled down the steep hillside, ending at the port. The boats moored there this morning appeared as small as children’s toys from this height. Just beyond them floated the dark bulk of the galleon.
Shouting reached her, drifting up from the terraces below. Peering down, she could see men fighting upon Harbor Way, and the glint of sunlight on steel.
The Shade Brotherhood.
Lilia’s thundering heart faltered when she realized just how exposed it was up here. There was little to protect them from view, save a few stunted trees. This side of the island bore the brunt of the prevailing winds. They would be travelling across a bleak, open landscape that made hiding near to impossible.
“Lilia.” Saul’s voice was sharp behind her. “Come on.”
Turning, she followed the others, sprinting across the pot-holed road and up the windswept hillside above.
When they were a furlong distant from the road, they cut west. Smoothly rounded, green hills rolled away to the north. At the top of some of them, Lilia could see the ruins of the stacked stone huts, shaped like beehives, where hermits of old had once lived. In ancient times, those seeking solitude found refuge upon Serran’s western-most outpost.
Saul led the way at a brisk jog, his leather cloak flapping. Dain, Lilia, and Ryana followed a few steps behind. Lilia hurried to keep up with her companions; only fear of what lay at her back preventing her from insisting they set a slower pace. Her ankle-length heavy skirts hindered her movement. It was not long before her lungs started to feel raw, and she felt sick from exerting herself. The others were all fitter and stronger than her.
Still, she ran on, torn from a morning of quiet routine into chaos.