“When I throw this,” Kit said, hefting the vial, “make for the front door. It will be difficult to see—you’ll have to feel for it. You get outside, and ready the horses.” She tapped at Anji’s cheek, at the strip of rough cloth. “And be sure this doesn’t slip. Got it?”

Anji blinked, still staring at the vial. The cumbersome bag didn’t make for much of a weapon. She wanted to fight too. It felt odd, but she found herself picturing a battle in the dim common room, Kit at her side, the two of them fighting their way through countless brutes, though she knew there were only two.

“Girl,” Kit said, snapping Anji back to the present. Her voice carried a pleading tone along with its usual stony force. The whites of her eyes shone bright in the shadowy room. A gust of wind shrieked through the drafty planks, sending the inn sign’s iron hinges screeching. Anji swallowed and nodded.

The hall was darker than their room. Anji crept behind Kit to the stairwell, hurrying but trying to stay silent at the same time. As they gained the staircase, she spotted shadows flitting across the knee wall and scarred railing. The sounds below ceased as Kit straightened. She let her shoulders rise and fall with a steady breath, vial at her side. Anji was about to ask what Kit thought she was doing when Kit began walking down the stairs, head high, back straight. The steps groaned underfoot, ancient and splintered.

Anji followed down, digging for a shred of the same composure Kit held. Get to the door. Get to the horse. The door, the horse.

“Hawk!”

The common room’s mismatched tables had been flipped over, their chairs knocked to the ground. The hearth still held a meager clump of orange coals, but if any heat emanated, Anji couldn’t feel it. The sun’s obscured glow filtered through the latticed windows, throwing diamond lines into the pool of soft light Kit walked into. Ahead of Kit, facing the stairs, were the Goat and the Bear.

Chapter 31

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