A brief cry. A desperate scrabbling hand. Then he was gone.

All but overcome, Sevaka fell to hands and knees. The kraikon started forward from the doorway. Three hearthguard advanced in a loose line behind.

The ground shook, slow and rhythmic at first, but with increasing speed. A new kraikon barrelled out of the darkness. Chains scattering from its lowered shoulders, it swept the advancing hearthguard aside and crashed into its twin. Fists slammed down in thunderous blows, the impact ringing out like church bells.

“Edvard will keep his sibling at bay, but he’s the only one I’ve got.” Elzar stooped and helped Sevaka to her feet. “The rest are damaged hulks or unfinished lumps.”

Sevaka coughed into her hand. Bloody spittle gleamed. “So keep moving.”

A scream rang out.

The man screamed as the raven-cloak tore into him. His back struck the guard rail. Then he was gone into the gloom beyond the gantry.

“Braxov!”

Grimy white skirts swirled as the woman spun around. One hand pushed the girl behind her. The other scraped a sword clear of a battered scabbard. The point wove and dipped. Her voice held no such uncertainty.

“Sidara! Constans! Run!”

Metal clattering beneath their feet, the children broke for the far stairway.

The woman moved to block the gantry. “You’ll not have my children!”

Raven-cloak swirling around her, Apara darted aside. The woman’s blade hissed past. Counterblow came as instinct. Claws flashed out. The woman shrieked and fell to her knees, sword abandoned and hands clasped to her face. Blood oozed between her fingers.

The raven-cloak croaked its triumph.

Apara kicked the sword over the gantry’s edge.

“Mother!”

Sidara skidded to a halt on the stairs and reversed course. The woman shuffled along the gantry, waving blindly at her daughter. “Sidara! Go! Keep Constans safe!”

Blue eyes daring Apara to approach, the girl tugged at her mother’s shoulder.

A child made for a better lure. Steeling her heart, Apara beckoned. “Come to me, girl, and I’ll let your mother live.”

Sidara glared at her unblinking. “Raven take you first!”

Bitter laughter swelled in Apara’s chest. “He already has. Now come here!”

She lunged, fingers grasping for Sidara’s wrist.

The girl flinched away. A furious scream tore free of her lips. Searing golden light exploded in the dark.

Viktor convulsed. Blankets scattering, he fell from the chair. Insubstantial dreams dissipated as sore muscles hauled him upright. What had woken him? He had a sense of a bright light, or the strike of a bell. But the more Viktor reached for answers, the less certain he became.

He cast about. Elzar’s workshop. Everything flooded back. Hargo. The provosts. Rosa’s accusations. Truth and lies intermingled. Like everything in the Republic.

He flexed his limbs. There was pain, but pain was to be expected. But there was no rush of blood to darken Elzar’s imperfect bandages. It would do.