Page 28 of This Dark Descent
“Liar,” Mikira said again.
“Mikira,” Ari warned when, this time, nearby heads turned.
The girl’s gaze snapped to her, green eyes bright with fire. “That stupid war has nothing to do with Enderlain’s future, or the Goddess, or any of that horseshit. It’s all for them and their greed.”
Ari didn’t doubt that for a second, but neither did she want Mikira openly preaching about it where people could hear. “We should go.” She took Mikira’s hand, but the girl refused to move. Her eyes were back on the king, her hand a solid fist beneath Ari’s fingers.
The crowd had begun to move, people fighting their way forward alongside a growing murmur. At the front, the guards’ hands went to their swords.
“Today, I am honored to announce the start of the Illinir with the opening ball,” the king continued, oblivious to the rising tumult. The only one who seemed to have noticed was Princess Eshlin, who’d stepped nearer to her father and pulled a thin rod from her intricately braided hair that looked sharp enough to puncture flesh.
“Let the festivities begin!” the king called.
“Murderer!” someone shouted.
“Free Celair!” cried another.
The guards closed ranks as the front of the pack pushed forward, separating from the confused gathering behind them. A chant rose up as they pressed up against the guards. “No more war! No more war!”
“Mikira!” Ari called when the girl began leaning toward the mob. People were staring at them now, staring ather, their expressions locked in mirrored looks of dismay. “We need to go.”
“You with those traitors?” asked a young man in a newsboy’s cap, his afternoon round of papers tucked under one arm. The question drew more eyes, and Ari pulled hard on Mikira’s arm. The girl blinked at her, her fury clearing as she realized what was happening.
Something rattled against Ari’s chest, and then the coin she’d charmedearlier leapt from her pocket and flung itself at the newsboy. It bounced harmlessly off his chest, but his pale face flushed a heavy red.
“Kinnish witch!” He thrust a finger at her.
“I’m sorry,” Ari said quickly. “That was an accident.”
Two other boys had joined the newsboy. On the platform, Princess Eshlin was ushering her father down the stairs to a waiting coach, and the crowd was beginning to shove. Others fled the growing tumult, forcing a ripple of motion back through the remaining spectators that jostled them from all sides.
“Don’t touch her.” Mikira’s hands went for her knives.
“So you are a traitor.” The newsboy sneered. “I heard what you were saying. I served in the war, you know. Nearly lost an arm in it.” He jerked a sleeve up, revealing a knotted scar by his shoulder. “And you think it’s stupid, do you?”
“That’s not—”
“Now you’re defending this Kinnish leech. The only reason we’re even in Celair!” The boy spat at Ari’s feet.
She recoiled. “What? The Kinnish have nothing to do with it.”
“Your corrupt magic is what caused the Cataclysm,” said one of the newsboy’s companions. “It killed our soldiers and destroyed acres of verillion.”
“Verillion that belonged to my people,” Ari shot back before she could stop herself. What was she doing? She needed to be deescalating this situation, not adding fuel to the fire.
You are done being afraid, answered the voice.
“It belonged to Enderlain!” said the newsboy. “You hoarded it and the wealth it gave you for years untilwewon it from you.”
“Westoleit,” Mikira snapped. “Just like we’re doing in Celair.”
The newsboy dropped his papers and pulled out a pocketknife. At that moment, a gunshot went off, and the throng broke apart in a flurry ofscreams. Ari seized Mikira’s hand and pulled her away from the crowd, but the boys pursued them.
Mikira was faster than her and took the lead. “This way!” They ducked into a nearby alley, taking several quick turns into the narrow maze, before cutting a hard left Ari expected to send them toward Tea Street. But Mikira wasn’t the only one who knew the alleys, and as they barreled around the corner, they came face-to-face with one of the newsboy’s friends. Before they could backtrack, the newsboy and his other friend boxed them in from behind.
Mikira drew her knives, pressing Ari toward the wall so she could see both sets of opponents. “I’m going to take the one on the left,” she whispered. “When I attack, make a run for it.”
“I’m not leaving you here—”
