Page 176 of City of Snakes
Nothing but ruins.
Smoke, ash and annihilation.
“No!” Slamming against every mental barrier I could find in Caym’s mind, I pushed against them, looking for a movable wall. I held my breath and fought against his attempt to let that awful smoke consume me. He tore through every dark thought and tried to ignite my despair.
With one final mental strike, I let all my rage lash toward him.
The intoxicating feeling of control overtook me.
Caym reeled back into the butcher-block table, falling as though I’d physically struck him.
As I took hold of his mind, our thoughts tumbled together—memories mixing, intentions warping, emotions cutting through the night like glass against delicate skin.
Blue tea being poured.
Amber smoke filling a battlefield.
Finding journals written in my mother’s hand.
Freya atop a moonlit roof with Caym at her back.
My sixteenth birthday.
Poisoned eggs.
Screams of women in a pleasure hall as amber smoke engulfed them.
A ruby-encrusted sword.
Barden letting soldiers through an Egress to assassinate me in Luz.
The fall of a guillotine.
My mother’s face was the last memory I saw.
Caym writhed against the tile floor as I held him down with just my fury. My screams cut through the night. It took so muchstrength to hold him there that my body hunched and slackened. Moving backward toward the door, I wondered how far I could get before he would be released.
Then I ran.
Out on the streets of Sahlmkar, I sprinted without aim. Realizing I had no idea where the prison was, I felt helpless to find Krait. The bustle and life that I’d seen upon arriving had ceased. I didn’t see a single soul.
Empty shop windows blurred past before I turned down the alley toward the one power in this land who might be able to help me.
Chapter 57
Krait
There was an eerie sense of dread in the air as I made my way to the prison. The sun had set, and the wind kicked up dust—shops had closed and tents were left unattended. It was as though not a soul walked the streets except those we’d brought from Sahlmsara. Maybe it was the hour of worship. The Temple of Death still stood in Sahlmkar; it was upkept by the citizens here.
Ryn stood with a somber expression just inside the gates of the prison, in the courtyard. He had mostly healed from when I’d lashed out at him. Sahlmsaran guards were swarming the iron prison door, with weapons raised.
“Whatis going on? Is this how we treat the ill now?”
“It’s a bloodbath, Krait. The prisoners revolted. They looked like rabid animals—eyes blackened, faces gray. They began to grow ill this afternoon. It’s chaos in there. We need to secure the perimeter and keep them contained.”
A sense of dread continued to churn in my stomach. Ryn’s instincts to keep Sybilla away from here had been right. The prison’s dark stone walls stretched up five stories, and thousands of people were kept there.
Slam, slam, slam.
