Unguilded (35 page)

“I always know.” Reo shook his head and grimaced. “Assassins are trained to always know which direction we face. And they won’t expect us to go south because it’s the most unlikely choice—straight through the heart of Mage Guild Island.” He laughed bitterly. “A lunatic’s choice.”

“Sometimes they work,” Kara said, thinking about her own choice to run away from Villa Larona. A lunatic’s choice, yes, since she’d been so badly prepared. “Sometimes they have to since the alternative is worse.”

Reo laughed again—this time with genuine pleasure.

“Then let’s be lunatics,” he said. “And make the choice no one would expect.”

“I do count the mad mage among my friends you know,” Kara said. “South it is.” She tugged on Reo’s arm as she headed down the corridor.

REO LED THE
way at a quick pace, and Kara did her best to keep up, but she tripped over her skirts and stumbled into him. He gently steadied her before they rounded a corner. She grabbed him and stopped.

“Stay still,” she whispered. “And keep close. There’s mage mist ahead.”

Reo nodded, stepped behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. Facing forward, she had to admit that she welcomed his warmth—the amount of mage mist that swirled and coiled in the corridor ahead of them frightened her. Slowly she walked them forward.

Like the day the clammers had chased her small group, she concentrated on letting the mist eddy past. But on that other day, the mage mist had been benign—these spells were malevolent, purposeful, and searching for
them
. Most of it was the familiar dark grey of Valerio Valendi.

Kara continued to inch them down the corridor until they were finally out of the mage mist. She nodded to Reo—he grabbed her hand, and they trotted down the hall.

“
I DON’T SEE
anyone,” Reo said as he slid down the wall to sit beside her. “What about magic?”

Kara grabbed the stone sill of the window, pulled herself up, and peered outside. It was dark, well after midnight, and the grounds of the little park were shadowed. Mage mist lit up the odd flower or tree, simple spells to make them grow and bloom, she supposed. None of the crawling grey-black clouds of Valerio Valendi or the purple swirls of her mother.

“It seems clear,” she said and sat down beside Reo.

“Good. The building on the other side looks like a school of some sort. Let’s hope it’s empty at this time of night.” He crouched, but kept his eyes on the park. “We’ll wait an hour before we cross the park. That should be long enough for any guard to come by.” He glanced down at her. “Why don’t you try to sleep? It may be a while before you have another chance.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” he replied. He gazed out the window again. “This time of night is when I usually work.”

She shivered as she lay down on the floor. Reo was an Assassin—she shouldn’t forget that, ever. He was dangerous, yes, but he wasn’t infallible. Why had he brought her here to confront the woman who wanted to hire him to kill her? Why had he allowed himself to be so angry that he’d walked them both into danger? Her mother would never have let him leave alive. How had he not realized that? Had he expected her to get them out safely? Or had he even thought that far? When they were safe,
if
they were safe, she’d ask him.

“Kara.”

She felt her shoulder being shaken, and groggily she opened her eyes. In spite of the thoughts that had been running through her head, she had actually fallen asleep.

“We need to go,” Reo said.

She sat up and stretched. “I’m ready,” she said and stifled a yawn.

“Good. There’s been no sign of a watch or guard. Can you check again for magic?”

She poked her head up past the window sill.

“Nothing’s changed,” she said.

“Let’s go.”

Reo edged over to the open window, and Kara followed. The night was still warm, but the air was slightly damp, and she was chilled from sleeping on the stone floor. She rubbed her hands against her arms, trying to warm herself up.

“Keep low,” Reo said. He swung his legs over the sill and eased through it.

Kara leaned out, and Reo grabbed hold of her waist and pulled. Her skirt snagged, and she heard the fabric tear, and then she was out and in Reo’s arms. She breathed in his scent—clean and musky with an undercurrent of salt air, then he dropped his arms and turned away. Kara wrapped her arms around herself. She was angry with him, and hurt by what he’d done tonight, but she still felt safe in his arms.

He was willing to die for her. He’d made that promise many weeks ago, but tonight, when he’d told her that in front of her mother, she’d felt it in her soul. He was willing to die for her. It was a huge responsibility—she could make a choice that would send him to his death. She hadn’t been willing to make that choice earlier, didn’t think she’d ever be able to make it.

“Stay close,” Reo whispered.

He turned, and she met his eyes, cool and shadowed in the moonlight. Kara nodded, and Reo squeezed her arm before he turned to view the garden again.

He tensed and then he was off, a low, dark blur against the hedges and bushes. Kara picked up her skirts and followed. He didn’t stop until he was flat against the far building. As she scrambled towards him, he looked past her, scanning for danger. She hunched against the cold, stone wall, trying to be quiet as she gulped in air. She was nervous and scared, and her heart was pounding after that mad dash across the park.

Reo peered out at the garden for a few minutes more. Finally he turned to her.

“Stay here,” he said. “While I go inside.”

“Don’t you want me to look for mage mist?” she asked.

“Not this time,” Reo replied. He studied the open space around the door. “If I’m not back in half an hour, don’t come after me. Keep heading for the southern edge of the island.”

He opened the door to the building and entered it. Kara shivered. If he didn’t come back, she’d have to manage—she’d keep to their plan and make her way to the south part of the island. Then she’d find a boat and try to get to Old Rillidi.

The door to the building finally opened again. Reo beckoned her forward, and she sighed with relief.

“All clear?” she asked once she was inside.

“It is now,” Reo said. “This way.” He set off down a corridor.

Kara smelled it first. A tangy, iron odour mixed in with the smell of urine. A door along the corridor was slightly ajar, and a long, dark smear led from another closed door straight to it. As she passed by, she peered in. Bodies—three that she could see—lay tumbled over one another. One face stared up at her, the man’s mouth open in an O of surprise. She looked away and found herself staring directly into Reo’s eyes.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

Something—she thought it was relief—flashed across his face.

“I’m fine,” he replied. “We need to keep moving.”

Kara followed as he rounded a corner and strode through an open door. Stairs led down, and she could smell the floral scent that masked the salty smell of the bay. Reo opened a small wooden door, and for Kara, the bottom stairs were illuminated by the glow of mage mist.

“It will be dawn soon, and too bright for us to stay above ground,” Reo said. “We’ll take a boat and try to find a quiet place where we can stay until dark.”

“Can we take the boat all the way to the southern edge of the island?” Kara asked.

“No,” Reo said. “We’ll be too exposed. We’re being looked for, and a moving boat can be seen for miles down here. Even this late at night, I don’t dare row.” He crawled down a few steps, crouched, and leaned over until his eyes were below the bottom of the island. Reo shifted around until he’d scanned every direction.

“I don’t see anyone,” he said when he came back up. “Is there magic?”

“Lots,” Kara replied. “I’ll keep it away from us.”

Reo helped her into a small boat before he shrugged out of his cloak, took off his boots, and tossed them into the bottom of the boat. Then he untied the boat and slipped into the dark water.

Reo’s hands gripped the gunwale, and his head bobbed beside her.

“Keep the magic away from us and stay as low in the boat as possible,” he said. “I’ll tow you until we find a safe place to hide for the day.”

“We should leave the boat,” Kara replied. “Why don’t we both swim?”

“No, the water is too cold,” Reo said. “I’ve trained for this, and even I can’t do it for very long.” His head disappeared, and the boat jerked forward. His head surfaced. “Can you swim?” he asked.

“No,” Kara said. She’d waded into her share of rivers and streams, but always with her feet on the bottom.

Reo smiled. “Then it’s not a valid offer anyway. I can do this for about half an hour, maybe more, then I might need your help getting back into the boat. Now you get out of sight.”

Kara lay down in the bottom of the boat and concentrated on letting the mage mist swirl past them. She was grateful for the small reminders that Reo was still with her—his hand on the gunwale, a sharp intake of breath every once in a while. Soon the stairs they had descended were left behind as Reo navigated them through the waters beneath Mage Guild Island.

Mage lights lit their way, almost as bright as day, and for Kara, the added glow of mage mist meant that she had to keep her eyes closed against the glare. Then the light changed, and they were beneath a shadowed section. There were no mage lights here, and when she peeked over the gunwale, a small dock was bare of mage mist.

Kara reached out and placed her hand on top of Reo’s. His head swiveled towards her.

“This dock is different.” She pointed. “There’s no magic.”

Reo tugged the boat to the dock and heaved himself up onto it.

“Then this is where we stop,” he said. He quickly tied the boat up.

Kara tossed him his cloak, and he swept it over his shoulders, pulling the hood over his head. He reached for his boots and pulled them on. Only when he stopped moving did she notice how much he was shivering.

“Are you all right?” She’d been asking him that a lot in the last few hours. And it wasn’t simply because she needed his help to get out of this situation
. He is willing to die for me
. And tonight, he’d killed for her.

“I’m fine.” Reo’s voice came out in a whispery shudder. “Just need to warm up. You’re sure there’s no magic?”

“None,” Kara said. “I think it’s abandoned. See, all the other docks are brightly lit and in good repair, but this one is dark and run-down.”

“You don’t think anyone lives here.”

“No,” Kara replied. “Not for a long time.”

Reo frowned and looked around. “I can’t see a better place to try to hide. I can’t swim any further—not without rest—and it will be daybreak soon. We need to be off the water now.

“Careful.” Reo steadied her as she stepped onto the dock. He untied the boat and shoved it away. “Let’s go.”

Carefully, Kara followed him along the rickety dock and up the stairs. After seeing such huge amounts of mage mist, the absence of any left her blind. Wood scraped against wood, and a dusty breeze puffed down the stairs.

“Be careful on the fourth step,” Reo called softly.

Kara felt around, and her hand caught on jagged wood. She relaxed a little—no one had used these stairs in years—and scrambled past the broken step.

A faint, natural light highlighted Reo against the doorway. Dawn had arrived. As soon as she was through the door, he swung it closed, shoving it hard. The wood groaned, and the door wedged shut.

They were in a hallway. A high window let in pink-tinged sunlight, and dust motes floated in the air. More dust layered the floor in front of them, and a few bare patches of floor showed through where their feet had scuffed the yellowed tiles. She’d thought that Santos’ house on Old Rillidi had been in disrepair, but this was far worse. If magic had ever kept this place clean, it had long since faded. Just as on the dock below, there was no trace of mage mist.

“I doubt we’ll run into anyone,” Reo said. He drew a finger across the handle of a half-open door, and a thick film of dust clung to him. “But there could still be magic.”

Reo took her hand and peered around the door before he pushed it completely open. Swaths of yellowed fabric draped lumps that must have been furniture.

“There’s no mage mist,” Kara said. “None. Which is odd.”

“Could it have run out?” Reo asked. “Do spells fade with time?”

She frowned. “I’m not sure.” She walked around the room. Something about it felt familiar. She spun around. The furniture was placed the same as the Old Rillidi estate. “I think this house may belong to Santos.”

Reo looked over at her. “Is there a spell?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t
know
—but the room—it’s almost as though it’s an echo of his estate on Old Rillidi.” She shrugged. “Not that it matters, but it feels like him.”