Thick as Blood by Beatrice B. Morgan

Author:Beatrice B. Morgan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: adventure, assassin, fantasy, gaslamp, magic, rebellion, secrets, steampunk, thief, urban fantasy, YA
ISBN: 9781644771341
Publisher: Authors 4 Authors Publishing Cooperative
Published: 2020-08-23T07:00:00+00:00

⚙️ Chapter 26 ⚙️

The air in the Wooden Goblet was tense. Whispers echoed through the floor, low enough that Raven couldn’t make out what they said. They worried about a traitor. Conrad slipped into the meetings, but he didn’t tell her their plans.

No one had caught up with Merril either. Her tiny apartment was empty—she’d fled in a hurry. None of her neighbors knew a thing.

The evening fell into night, as signified by the sounds of the kitchen, of the pots and pans being cleaned. Raven slept a few minutes at a time; the fever never let her rest long.

Conrad came to her room dressed in dark clothes not of the Wraiths. His braids were pulled behind his head by a black ribbon. He wore a dark half-cloak with a silver brooch over his heart that caught the candlelight. He held a second half-cloak over his arm.

“Come on,” he whispered urgently. He pulled her into a sitting position and quickly fastened the cloak over her shoulders. He fastened a silver brooch—identical to his own—over her heart. He pulled the hood over her head. He then lifted her into his arms and carried her down the stairs.

The Wooden Goblet had gone frighteningly quiet.

Raven leaned against him as if part of her body had already died. He darted through the kitchen’s side door, and the night banished the light. An automaton horse waited for them. The horse pulled forward at a trot, and she closed her eyes. The repetitive motion of the horse lulled her into a calmness, the balmy air kissed her cheeks, and the warmth outside mixed with the warmth inside. They trotted through the dark streets. Lights passed by on the other side of her eyelids.

She took one breath at a time.

The city buzzed around her, a metronomic beat underneath it all, like the city itself ran on gears. She heard the mechanical steps of automatons, their movements fluid and graceful. She heard the canter of automaton-drawn coaches.

The horse slowed. Its hooves beat against the stone, and then they didn’t; the sounds softened like it walked on grass. The air became warm and humid. She smelled dankness, like soil and stone that never dried, and the ripeness of vegetation. The horse stopped, and Conrad lifted her from it.

“Good,” breathed Conrad. “I didn’t know if you’d gotten my message.”

Her back met something cool and hard.

“This is her? She doesn’t look good,” whispered someone to her right.

“I know she doesn’t,” said Conrad on her left.

A sharp inhale. “Sisters,” the person to the right gasped. “Raven?”

That voice. She fought to open her eyes, and through the blurry, dark daze, she spotted a pleasant face and blond hair. She knew him.

Her breath came out ragged, “Ezra?”

Captain Ezra Deacon blinked at her and brought a pale hand to his hair. He wore it down and loose, not slicked back in the Gray Elite fashion as the last time she had seen him. Rather than his Gray Elite uniform, he wore a dark tunic and trousers.

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