At Auma’s back stood five masked Trendellan monks in black robes. Kuren had told me about them once; they were a special part of Trendell’s small army so well trained in stealth, they could even fool a shadow crow. And now they stood here, at the back of a girl who had vanished in the world’s most heavily guarded city and, with the single throw of a knife, had downed a Vykryn.

The other guard charged one of the monks, but Auma intercepted him. She was so light on her feet, so quick. She slit his throat in an instant.

There was another cry, and I whirled back the other way. Kiva had driven her foot into Shearen’s knee, then stumbled to her feet. Razel yelled for more guards as Shearen regained himself and launched at Kiva, dagger raised.

I seized the torch from the servant and slammed it into Shearen’s chest, throwing him back. His uniform caught fire, and he screamed.

The Trendellan monks broke into action. One surged toward Shearen, who frantically tried to put out the flames on his chest, and another toward Ericen, who stood frozen with shock and indecision. As the monk bore down on him, he broke free of his trance and threw up a block in time to avoid getting hit.

Another monk went for Razel, and she whipped her moonblades from her back. As the shouts of approaching guards echoed from the hall, the other two monks went to meet them.

Auma appeared at my side. I flinched, my mouth opening and closing, everything from words to the simple act of breathing failing me. Then I realized I was holding a flaming column of fire and chucked it across the room. The torch bounced, sending up a shower of sparks before settling against the wall.

“You have to go,” Auma said.

Behind her, Kiva was charging toward us. To my right, Caylus had regained his feet unsteadily. Someone had cut his bonds.

Crouching down, I scooped the disoriented Res into my arms, Auma guarding my back.

“There are horses outside the stables,” she said. “Follow the road west toward the nearest port. Find a ship to take you to the Ambriels. Lie low. Someone will find you.” Nothing of the demure servant was present.

“Who are you?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“There’s no time!”

Kiva and Caylus both reached us. I could tell Caylus was in pain, but he barely grimaced. The tolerance of a fighter. Then I noticed his hands. They weren’t shaking.

Kiva’s eyes went to Auma. They stared at each other for the briefest second, thoughts and questions and flashes of emotion whirring across Kiva’s face, and then Auma shot past her with a brush of her fingers along Kiva’s hand.