“You killed royal guards!” Anji said, pointing down the road. “You killed the Lynx! Your own friend! So tell me why you won’t kill me right here. I deserve to know. I saved your life, you owe me—”

The Hawk snarled and leapt forward, and before Anji could dodge away the sky whirred past and her back slammed into the ground. She sputtered with the force of Kit’s knee pressing into her chest.

“I owe you nothing!” the Hawk screamed in her face. “You hear me? Nothing!” Then she winced and began to cough, a crumbling, rattling choke Anji could feel through Kit’s knee. The Hawk spit something black into the road, swatting Anji’s flailing hand aside. Breathing hard, she reached up and grabbed at her horse’s saddle, unwound a coil of rope, and tied it deftly to Anji’s manacles. “Up. And not one more word, or I’ll cut off another finger.” She shoved off of Anji and tottered toward her horse.

Anji writhed in the dirt, her tears spent, gasping in cold air. Harness jingled as the Hawk climbed into her saddle, giving Anji hardly any time to haul herself up and into her own before the length of rope tightened, pulling her toward Kiva.

Chapter 25

25

Black clouds hulked over Kiva as they approached the main gate. The thunderheads obscured the setting sun, casting the towering stone walls in a burnt glow. A pair of constables in bright yellow tunics stopped them, their eyes lingering on Anji’s manacles. But one look at the Hawk’s mask had allowed them passage without issue.

Kiva’s famous windmills, so huge from a distance, were positively gigantic up close. Their sails revolved far above other buildings, canvas flapping, the huge frames groaning on giant axels built into bulky plaster structures. As they came to their first intersection, Anji and Kit passed close enough to one of the mills that they could hear the buzzing and clunking of machinery inside. The huge blades dipped between rooftops, nearly grazing the ground before ascending once more.

“You didn’t even have to show your note,” said Anji, now sparing a glance toward the open gate at their backs. She turned back to see Kit tipping some Rail onto the back of her hand. Kit lifted her mask just enough to snort the little pile, then stowed the thin green vial back in her leathers.

“Won’t someone see—”

“It’s fine,” said Kit, clearing her throat. She adjusted the mask and tugged Anji’s rope, leading them down a broad, crowded street as thunder crackled overhead. Lightning flared past Kiva’s high wall, which surrounded the entire city.

“Let’s be quick,” said Kit, snapping her reins. Anji hardly had to urge her mount to follow.