Silver flashed. The Hawk drew her right-hand sword and sliced into the air. A pair of squeaks broke over the wind, followed by soft thumps to the swirling heather underfoot. Two bats, cut cleanly in half, lay in pools of dark blood at Anji’s feet. The Hawk sheathed her sword and steadied the horse. The mask’s metal contours shifted under the half-moon, reflecting Silverton’s scattered lights and the unveiled stars overhead.

“Move.”

Anji gulped down the last bite of the meat, and at a gesture from the Hawk, preceded the woman and her horse down the ridge.

Chapter 6

6

If Silverton looked a drab settlement from above, it was downright depressing up close. Trash and soiled clothing lay strewn across the branching dirt lanes and piled against the cratered brick facades of shabby houses, their roofs sagging on their frames. Warped wood planks covered many of the windows, likely salvaged from neighboring structures. Tiny wells of firelight flickered behind ill-fitting doors.

Someone had vandalized one of the walls, which read:

THE TIDE WILL RISE

Though this slogan had been drawn over with a giant white cross, and beside it in the same white paint, a symbol Anji had never seen:

“What’s that?” said Anji, jerking her chin toward the symbol.

“Keep walking,” said the Hawk.

Little of the populace was present, but a scant few darted like malnourished phantoms between narrow alleys. A persistent coughing issued from a squalid dwelling up the road; from another the high-pitched whine of a child, though whether they were laughing or crying Anji couldn’t say. The air reeked of coal smoke and boiled linen and spoiled meat. As they approached the tavern, the sharp smell of human excrement wafted through Anji’s nose, and she felt the urge to retch. Anji would never forget her year living on Linura’s streets, but the state of Silverton made Mudtown look luxurious by comparison.

“Why don’t they leave?”

“Why don’t you ask them?”

Anji crossed her arms against the cold and squalor, as though it would keep the stink and dread off her skin. Something cold splashed against her shins, and she realized she’d stepped into a puddle of black mud, which now caked her new boots.

Piss and shit and Nine know what else in there too, she thought, shaking off what she could. She scanned the grubby town as the Hawk barked at her to keep walking for the hundredth time. All this thanks to Rolandrian, no doubt. I should have killed him sooner.

One of the gaps between the buildings caught Anji’s eye. A sliver of pale moonlight illuminated a row of molded planks leaning against the brick wall in a makeshift shelter.

The planks shifted, clunking against one another, then … something emerged from the shadows.

“Hawk,” said Anji, eyes still fixed on the alley. “Hawk, what—”