Breath held, Romaine glanced at Erika. He had seen her down Tangata from as far away as Yasin stood from her. She could do it now—if she had the courage. It was almost certain that Yasin would be able to fire before the magic incapacitated him, but at least then he and Maisie would have a chance to stop the queen’s man.
No, even without the crossbow, he’s more than my match.
Romaine’s shoulders fell as he realised they would all die here. Erika must have known it as well, for she reached up and pressed her thumb to the gauntlet around her wrist. There was a soft hiss as the relic released, before it dropped to the ground with a gentle ring of metal chains.
“Good, good,” the rogue laughed. His beady eyes turned on Romaine. “Why don’t you put the Goddess down now, Calafe? I’m sure the burden couldn’t have been easy, carrying her all this way.”
The hairs on Romaine’s neck stood on end as he stared Yasin down. In his mind, he saw again and again the image of Lorene falling, crossbow bolt in his chest. He clenched his fist, straining for something—anything—that might allow him to fight back. But there was nothing.
Cara whimpered as he lowered her slowly to the stones. Then he rose and stepped in front of her.
“Why are you doing this?” he growled.
“Why, I haven’t done anything.” Yasin laughed and spread his hands. Romaine tensed as the bow was lowered, but on the uneven slope he would never reach the man fast enough. “It was the villainous Gemaho who kidnapped the daughter of the Gods. The noble queen of Flumeer tried to save her, but alas, we only arrived in time to take vengeance.”
Romaine bared his teeth. “I won’t let you harm her.”
“Yasin…” A murmur from Erika drew their attention. She still stood beside her fallen gauntlet, but now her eyes narrowed as she stared at the man. “Why do I know that name?”
“You can’t stop me, Calafe,” Yasin continued, ignoring the Archivist. “I do as Amina commands. I’m sure you would have done the same for your king, if the fool hadn’t gotten himself killed.”
A sharp intake of breath came from Erika, but this time Yasin kept his attention fixed on Romaine. The man seemed to have decided he was the most dangerous of the three. If only he knew how Romaine’s entire body ached, he might have reconsidered.
“You’re one of Amina’s spies,” Maisie said. Stones shifted as she moved to the side, as though trying to divert his attention.
Yasin laughed at that. “Spy, soldier, cutthroat.” He shrugged. “I have the honour of being whatever my queen requires of me.” He flicked a knowing glance at the woman. “I hear you have some experience in that regard…it’s Maisie, no?”
Maisie sneered. “You’re little more than a common thug, Yasin.”
“No, no, no,” Erika staggered forward a step, breaking into the conversation. She pointed an accusing finger at Yasin. “I know you!”
The smile slipped from the cutthroat’s face. “Ah, so you finally recognise me, Princess.”
“You were a friend of my father.”
“For a learned woman, you took a long time to make that connection.” Yasin smirked. “I guess gullibility runs in the family.”
Romaine’s blood ran cold at the man’s words. “What is he saying?” he asked, looking from Yasin to Erika in disbelief.
She shook her head. “It’s not possible,” she whispered. “You…you rode south with him. You’re…dead!”
“Ay.” Yasin turned the crossbow on Erika. “Now I can see the resemblance. That open-mouth surprise, that disbelief. Your father looked much the same when I drove my blade through his chest.”
“No!” Erika screamed.
A ringing sounded in Romaine’s ears as he stared at Yasin, trying to understand, to pry meaning from his words. He had killed Erika’s father, the Calafe king. His king. But that wasn’t possible. King Micah had ridden south with the allied armies, to destroy the threat of the Tangata once and for all. It had been the beasts that had slain him…
…but then why would the queen’s own cutthroat have been friends to the Calafe king? Not unless…
“She betrayed us,” Romaine whispered, but Erika drowned out his words.
“You killed my father!” Erika screamed. She started towards the killer, but Yasin lifted the crossbow and she froze.
“Now, now, Princess.” He tisked. “I’d rather not have to kill you. The queen was rather excited by the prospect of welcoming you back to her court.”
Fists clenched, Erika’s entire body was trembling. “Why?” she hissed.
The rogue raised an eyebrow. “Why? Why else?” he asked, looking from the Archivist to Romaine. “Calafe lies shattered, Gemaho grasps at empty straws for its survival, and Perfugia withdraws more and more from the workings of the continent. Meanwhile, Flumeer is resurgent. All because of that disastrous campaign.”
“But the Tangata,” Romaine growled, clenching his fist. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to reach out and throttle the man. “Surely the queen couldn’t have thought…” He trailed off, unable to complete the sentence.
“The thoughts of the lion rarely make sense to the sheep,” Yasin replied. “Who would think the death of a king could lead to the fall of his nation. Yet here we are.”
“She cannot hope to fight the Tangata alone.”
Yasin’s face hardened. “The beasts are cursed by the Gods. They are destined for extinction.” There was a coldness to his eyes as he glanced at Maisie. “As are the Gemaho, when the Gods learn of the depravity that took place here.”
The three of them fell silent, staring into the eyes of the killer. Then to Romaine’s surprise, stones crunched behind him. He glanced back, and watched in horror as Cara pulled herself to her feet. Her face a motley grey, she took a trembling step towards Yasin.
“The Anahera will not help you,” she croaked, her voice barely audible above the wind whistling through the pass.
“Of course they will,” Yasin said easily. “They just need the proper motivation.”
The crossbow came up. A gasp came
