It was not the best situation she had ever put herself in.

Especially since duplicate charms didn’t last long and once the Rishiyat buskers had destroyed her magic selves, they were going to haul ass to catch up with her and tear her a new one.

Tavia almost regretted going at this alone. Karam had warned her that leaving camp unsupervised would be dangerous. Bringing a busker or two along for the ride would’ve been the smart play, but Tavia had to show them that she could get things sorted alone. That they could rely on her to do whatever needed to be done. She couldn’t lead people if she was always relying on them to help her.

Anyway, there were worse things than being killed, and one of them was knowing that Karam was right.

Tavia rounded a corner, breathless.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep running, and she really didn’t want to resort to using her newly stolen magic to escape.

She needed it.

Their army needed it.

Not just the time charms, but the rest, too. Every new busker they recruited needed new magic to protect themselves against Ashwood’s army of Crafters and Loj-infected civilians, and there was only so much magic that their own Crafters could generate. Apparently, spinning new spells into charms took more time than she had originally thought.

What Tavia needed now was a hiding place.

She turned another corner and the sound of music echoed over.

In the curve of the street, caught between an alley and a tree that reached for the night sky, was just the thing she needed.

The Last Hope.

When she’d scouted the bar as a place to lie low in case anything went wrong, she hadn’t actually expected—or wanted—to use it. Rishiya didn’t have much in terms of a nightlife, especially to someone who’d grown up on the streets of Creije, and this place was famous for boring booze and big bouncers.

It also, apparently, didn’t take kindly to buskers. Which made it pretty perfect for wanting to escape Nolan and his band of bastards.

Tavia ran past the small queue and straight to the man guarding the door, who she’d already slipped a whole load of coin earlier that day. She flashed him her best smile and with a quick nod, he moved to push her through, something Karam—who took her job as a guard pretty seriously—would have frowned upon.

With one last cursory look to check she wasn’t being followed, Tavia headed quickly inside.

She slowly edged past the flurry of people discussing politics with their liquor glasses poised by their lips, and found a quiet booth in the corner where she could keep her eyes on the doors in case Nolan and his friends made an appearance.

“Can I get you something?” a waiter asked, offering Tavia a menu.

She shook her head.