“Save your breath,” Tavia said, trying to paint on her old smile. “You’re going to need it for the long walk back to your underboss. I doubt he’ll be happy that you got boosted on your own territory. Looks like you’re in for a heap of trouble from dear old Casim.”

She hitched the backpack onto her shoulder and turned from Nolan, her many selves following the action in a perfect reflection.

Only, there were now a dozen Rishiyat buskers standing in front of her, armed to the teeth with magic and guns. And not a one of them looked happy to see her.

“You need a hand, Nolan?” one of them asked.

From behind Tavia, the busker’s laugh echoed.

“Now who’s outnumbered?” Nolan said.

And then his friends charged at her.

For a moment Tavia had almost forgotten that she wasn’t alone, before the six other versions of herself jumped in the way. They met Nolan’s friends with fists and knives, taking on two or three each and creating a blockade between the buskers and Tavia.

Her many selves may not have had magic of their own, but they could pull a better punch than she could.

Tavia smiled onward at them, feeling an odd sense of pride, but she had only a few seconds to live in that moment before she felt herself being pulled violently back.

Nolan was yanking at her hair, keeping Tavia pressed against him. She wriggled against his grip, but the bastard was strong and the more she struggled, the more he pulled. The more his chest seemed to bounce with laughter.

“You’re not so cocky now, are you?” he whispered in her ear.

His breath was warm and damp, and Tavia flinched away.

Nolan pushed his knife to her throat, pressing it with enough force that Tavia felt the blade draw a small line of blood across her neck. It dripped down to her chest.

At that, her duplicate selves paused slightly, twitched, as though the blade had touched them, too.

Tavia cursed.

She needed focus for them to work properly. She needed to not be distracted by a blade at her damn throat.

“Any last words?” Nolan asked.

“Yeah,” Tavia said. The blade nicked her again as she spoke. “Never get this close to an enemy.”

She threw her head back, skull cracking into Nolan’s lip. His teeth dug into her and she felt the moment his blood sprayed outward onto the back of her neck.

Nolan screamed and fell to the ground, and Tavia didn’t hesitate before she grabbed the backpack from where it had fallen beside him.

“You stupid little b—”

Tavia didn’t wait to hear the end of that sentence.

She ran, faster than she’d ever run before.

She could still hear her six duplicate selves struggling to fight off the attackers, their grunts growing fainter with each step she took.

Djnfj.