Page 9 of The Fury She Holds
“Any witnesses still alive only saw cloaked figures before the fires started. Apparitions are incapable of producing magic, so unless they set the fires without it, unlikely given how quickly and completely everything burned, mages were in the streetslast night,” Rain concluded somberly. He crossed his arms and clenched his fists.
Pochette’s warning about the evil he kept at bay echoed in Tal’s mind. What had he done to protect his empire? Did the mages destroy it and leave or were they here to stay? She beseeched Sybil wordlessly, and the seer nodded. “Shit.” She bit her lip. “Can you see anything? Do we know why they’re here?”
Sybil narrowed her eyes at the blank space in front of her. Her lips pursed and nostrils flared, and then she shook her head. Despite her powerful gift, she could not see futures for strangers unless they linked with someone she knew and only if she focused on the right person and the right events. Even then, there was no guarantee the future would reveal itself. When Tal mentioned that the unknown apparition searched for a red-head, Sybil stared at her with a strange look on her face. But when Tal questioned her, her friend kept silent.
“Someone should inform the king.” Egan stood as if he would be the one to do it.
Tal sighed. Egan was the most naïve of the group. He still believed the king would help or cared at all. “The docks have been rotting for years with no help from the palace. The nobles are too busy attending their balls and eating their fill to give us a second thought.” No one of status had ventured to the slums or offered any kind of aid, least of all the young king who wasted his days on pleasures of the flesh. No, they were on their own.
“Even if one of us could somehow get word to the palace, do you really think they would believe us?” Tal sheathed her knife and stood. “Until we know more, we need to be careful. We have to assume they’re taking anyone with abilities. Sybil, Rain, you know more than any of us how dangerous this could be. Be vigilant. No one goes out alone at night. And we take it easy on the bounties. Small jobs only like we had planned while gettingused to the businesses. Even without taking over Pochette’s establishments, we have enough to manage for now.”
“The same goes for you too, Tal.” Carrick notched a brow.
“I can hold my own.”
“Be that as it may, if what Pochette said is true, then powerful mages will be looking foryou. Have you ever gone head-to-head with a mage? I’d rather not test your strength, if you ask me.” Carrick crossed his arms.
“I am not some princess needing a bodyguard. I did just fine on my own before you four showed up, and I continue to do just fine when you’re all doing your own thing,” she ground out.
Talwyn had few memories of her life before a fisherman named Waltford picked her up with the rest of the rubbish at the docks nearly two decades ago. He took her in, fed her, clothed her, and let her sleep in the corner of his one room home. But he never let her leave and never gave a reason. “No red. No gold. No fire,” he would say in his simple-minded language. One day, he went out and never returned. After seven days, Tal ran away and lived on the streets, scrounging for food and hiding from the Netters.
Carrick spotted her long before she noticed him. Days without food left her collapsed in an alley. He offered her bread and fresh water when she was too sick to find her own and carried her back to his hideaway under a dock where he nursed her back to health. His gentle nature and strong presence broke down her walls. By the end of the week, they were inseparable. As much as Talwyn refused to let anyone think of her as fragile, she would never fault Carrick for his protectiveness over her.
“I’m okay with holding off on taking over things, since every one of those businesses and persons are gone. But regardless of who is after you, we need to figure out what to do about these mages.” Rainier tapped his ledger, as if the numbers in the book would give them a plan.
“We do nothing.” Talwyn stood with her arms crossed. All eyes landed on her.
“Tal, we can’t ignore them as a threat,” Sybil said gently.
“Did you forget what happened in your village? We are not kings with armies at our commands, nor are we assassins. We are bounty hunters. We do not stand a chance against beings powerful enough to destroy entire villages in one night. And it’s not our job to keep the peace.”
“I thought we were prepared to do just that when you killed Pochette,” Egan added quietly.
“We were supposed to keep his businesses running and the gangs away from the common folk.That plannever included outside forces, and now all our allies within Pochette’s gang are gone too. It’s just us. Pochette had hundreds of men, andhecouldn’t keep the mages out. Besides, he was dead whether I delivered the blow or not. If he thought they were going to let him walk away, then he deserved what he got.”
“So, you would sit back and let them destroy our home? You’d watch the world burn and do nothing?” Carrick asked.
Her eyes shot to his and the hurt in them gripped Tal’s heart enough to steal her breath. Carrick had always been supportive of her choice to lay low. She always said, “Helping others is the best way to get yourself into trouble,” to which Carrick would tease thathehelped her. She never had much of a response to that, but she would be forever grateful for his kindness that day.
She knew this went against everything they’d agreed to, but Tal never wanted any of it. “We do nothing. When the mages are gone,thenwe can revisit this ruling business. Until then, we lay low and avoid capture,” she repeated, ending the conversation. She left them there, in one of the dead-ends of the underground sewage system and retreated to her room.
3
Coals still glowed in the ruins the next morning as Tal trailed behind Carrick through the ash-covered streets. He stopped next to a mule-drawn cart with two children sitting within. The father pulled at a large stone blocking the cart’s path. Carrick helped remove the stone while Tal scanned the children. Their clothes needed washing, and soot coated their faces. Three cloth bags and a crate of food sat in the cart between them.
“Where you headed?” Carrick asked.
“North,” the man said. “Our home burned down in the fire. There’s nothing left for us here.”
Tal noticed the burns on his arms. One of the children’s faces bore an angry red rash and scorched hair on one side. Tear tracks marked her cheeks, and she gripped Carrick’s jar of pink salve in her tiny fist.
“Take this.” Carrick handed the man two pieces of coin, and Tal shook her head.
The father pushed Carrick’s hand back. “No. Thank you, but we will manage. Thank you for your help.” He climbed into the cart and urged the mule onward.
“That bleeding heart of yours is going to give away all our money,” Tal teased while they watched the small family go.
“They’re not the only ones leaving.” He nodded toward the pier, where people boarded an awaiting ship with nothing but the clothes on their backs.
