Salo woke up to the sound of gunshots and yells.
He brought a chained hand to his head, massaging the top of his forehead. How long had he been out? Judging by the dull taste in the back of his throat, it must have been at least a couple of hours. The first thought that crossed his mind was water. The second was interrupted by a sharp woosh right beside his ear.
The boy's head snapped to the right. There was a gaping hole in the coach's wall.
"Can you be a bit more careful?" a voice shouted in his face. Arden. Salo wiped a hand across his moist eyes, examining his surroundings. A prison wagon. Memories of the fight in Bela's house started flooding back in his mind, washing away any hint of grunginess.
Another gunshot. The carriage was trembling as it lurched across the pebbled road. Salo's glance fell to his shoulder. A familiar face stood behind the doors, peering at him with what he translated as amusement. The thief rose his head abruptly, ignoring the biting pain on the nape of this neck. "Iona?"
"You two know each other?" Nora yelled over the hammering hooves ringing in their ears. Her face was drenched in sweat and her black hair was clumsily sleeked back into her hood.
The coach took a sharp turn, launching all five figures toward the left. Arden and Ailyn were still chained to the floor as Iona fumbled with a ring of keys, and the latter looked ghastly. Her skin was pale as paper.
Salo placed a hand on the wall for support and steadied himself on his feet. They were wobbly and he could barely feel his knees. "Where are we going? And why?" he asked, his voice as wavering as his shins. "Who are these people?"
"Seyali. None of them seem to be Ascended. If they were, this carriage would have been blown up a long time ago." Iona tried another key on Arden's chains. It didn't turn. "I hope we're going to a small emergency hideout in Fuka Ishik--"
"Hope?"
The woman sighed, turning to glance at Salo. Her smile was tight, betraying she didn't like to be interrupted. "I hope the driver knows where we should go."
Salo swallowed hard. This is a disaster. How had they found them? Bela had claimed her house would never be placed under suspicion, that the Mushans didn't even know she owned it. Even if they did somehow suspect her and came to the premises, how did they enter without being noticed?
Perhaps they had made a sound. The boy felt a wave of guilt wash over him. If he and Ailyn weren't having that petty argument, they might have still been in Musha now.
There was a resounding thud on the coach's roof.
Iona's frantic gaze caught Salo first. "Go," she blurted out, her eyes wide.
"Go?" he repeated hesitantly. "Up there?"
"Stop stalling and go to the damn roof, Canbar."
The boy sighed and clicked his lids shut. In the darkness he could see Lephar Blom smiling proudly at his bruised face after his first mission, Arden staring at him shocked in the narrow alley. Iona thought he could do it. She thought he could fight off a Seyali soldier. But what did she know? She hadn't been there when Salo had foolishly taken the bomb back at his headquarters. She hadn't seen his sloppy movements in the burning factory.
As if predicting his reluctant reaction, Iona grabbed Salo's shoulder and gave it a sharp shake. Her gaze was somber but not threatening. Anxious but not scolding. "You're a bulky dude, Canbar. Maybe they'll just run away at the sight of such muscle." Even after speaking those words, she pressed a pistol in his palm.
This wasn't the time for compliments, yet Salo's lips quirked up. There was one thing Lephar Blom insisted on the most apart from his ridiculous privacy policy, and that was exercise. Hard, exhausting, nightmare-inducing exercise. The boy bobbed his head in agreement and, with a last exhale, he drew the doors of the carriage open and grabbed the top side of it.
Within a second, he had thrust himself onto the roof. Before him stood an armed man in a blue and black uniform, his knees lowered and his expression cloudy. Once he caught sight of Salo his lips curved and he unsheathed the terrifyingly long sword from his waist. "I feel as if I am meeting a celebrity."
Salo copied his posture. The coach was moving with significant speed, one he wasn't sure his body could handle. He tried to hide his horror and clicked the revolver's hammer back. "Everyone knows us, don't they?" he muttered, his glance following the man's weapon.
The soldier lunged. He swung his sword toward Salo, who hastily thrust up Iona's pistol. The blade smashed onto the metal, releasing a deafening blare. The boy sucked in a breath and shoved away the sword with a large step forward. A shaky finger found the gun's trigger. Before he could pull it and end the battle, the man kicked a boot on his stomach.
He didn't like to seem weak during a fight, yet the force of the soldier's foot was too sudden. Salo yelped as one foot managed to slip away and dangle over the edge of the prison wagon. A million of pumps happened in his heart over a few seconds, his vision spinning and blurring and fading. He felt his body sway back and forth uncontrollably, and if contemplating in which direction to tip over. The soldier's sword rose before his eyes.
But instinct wasn't such a weak thing. Lephar Blom's harsh words and barked orders during Salo's training had been carved into his subconscious; surprise over balance, swiftness over speculation. He had to have planned every fighting scenario beforehand. There was no time to think in a battle like this one.
The boy gritted his teeth and threw his weight forward.
The world spun as he crashed into the startled soldier, knocking him down with a metallic thump. His sword clattered away on a far corner of the metal roof. It nearly dangled over the edge, making the soldier's eyes bulge in terror.
Salo took a slow breath in. He had the upper hand now. The gun was still clutched in his sweaty palm, but he wasn't sure where to shoot. His heart hammered against his ribcage. The chest? The head? Would that be too cruel?
That split second of indecision was enough to haul the soldier back from his shock. With a deep groan he shoved Salo to the side with a sharp jab of his boot. The thief clumsily rolled to his feet, fumbling with the gun in his hand. The trigger. Where is the trigger? His finger finally pressed around a thin metal piece. Everything spun into a blur of green and copper and the coach moved too fast for him to think calmly. He forced himself to raise his gaze.
The soldier was crawling helplessly yet surprisingly fast on the metal. His pulse beat across Salo's chest, throat, fingers as he hurriedly yanked the trigger. Red splashed across his vision, followed by a deafening shriek. Salo blinked the blurriness of adrenaline away. Thick liquid was spewing out of the soldier's lower back.
The slight tug of his heart's strings wasn't something to worry about yet. Salo placed a wobbly foot on the man's side and tossed him down the coach's edge.
Every last bit of sleep had left Salo's body by the time he pushed the pistol back into his pocket. His veins pulsed with warm blood and unshakable energy and his fingertips trembled as he laid them on the metal roof. He could still fight. He could fight another thousand men if he didn't need to stop. Yet the wheels of the enemy carriage had stopped veering across the mud, and the yells echoing across the narrow road had been silenced.
It must have been Iona. He hadn't heard any gunshots or any cries of pain, yet his ears were still stuffed with the dull ringing his impact on the soldier spawned.
Within a few swift moves, he had slung his weight back into the coach. Iona regarded him with an unreadable squint. "What went on up there?"
"It was a Seyali soldier," Salo replied, shrugging off his coat. A shiver raced over his skin, yet he had to endure it. Parts of it were drenched in blood. He didn't want to have to wear his opponent's innards. "Where are we headed to?" Iona had mentioned something before, but too many thoughts had whirled across his mind to allow the recollection of such information.
Arden didn't wait for Iona to answer. His wrists were free of chains as he pulled the doors closed, soaking them in dimness once more. "Well? Did you kill him?"
Salo shook his head. At least I hope so.
Iona sighed, rubbing her palms across her clothed forearms. "I told our team to move to a small hideout we built in Fuka Ishik some years ago." A contrived smile spread across her face. "Bela Krastelov will be there, too."
"How did you find her?" Nora asked. The girl was slumped against the side of the coach, a small content smile on her face. How could she not be happy? Whatever happened to them, it seemed as if the gods always helped them out.
"You were new faces in town. That house couldn't have been yours. Before I left to find you, one of our spies informed us that the witch walked into the mansion."
"Why do you call her that?" Ailyn asked quietly, her expression fatigued. "She is not involved in any witchcraft, anyway."
Iona shrugged, wrapping her coat tighter around her frame. "She grows weird herbs. That's enough of a reason for me."
The mansion, Karahi; it was all behind them. Possibly even the Kingfisher. Yet as more time passed, Salo realized the artifact never deserved any of this trouble. People like Ela and Iona did.
His heart ached at the thought of his bedridden mother, the money he needed for them to finally live in peace. If all else failed, he could bring her to Musha and stay with the Resistance, but that entailed the opening of Frya's borders. One way or another, Kage either had to be taken down or change his mind.
The latter didn't seem so likely anymore.
༺──────────────༻
Fuka Ishik wasn't at all like Salo had imagined.
A thick blanket of snow covered the rocky ground, and the trees bore a white coat. The houses were whole but narrow, well-built but barely able to accommodate more than two people. The shutters were closed, the chimneys void of any smoke or ashes. It was as if nobody had ever lived in there.
Iona led the four to the far back of the town where the houses became scarce. Crows flew and screeched above their heads as they entered a low yet wide building. Salo had to duck his head to step through the doorframe. The inside was dark, even with the sun high in the sky and flooding through the thin-glassed windows. Bulky bookcases were pushed in front of any openings in the building, yet light still snuck in through the small cracks.
As the boy carefully stepped inside the dark room, his boot hit something soft on the floor. He sucked in a breath, stumbling back in horror. A low groan echoed throughout the blackness.
Salo looked down. It was a body.
"What in the world?!" he exclaimed, his gaze darting around. Heads bopped up to glare at him. Somehow the reassurance that the room wasn't full of corpses didn't mitigate his galloping heart. He twirled around, staring at the rest of his team. Arden looked unamused. Nora had raised her brow. Ailyn was simply staring apathetically at the floor.
Iona prompted them all inside and after closing the door, a match was snapped lit and a row of candles adopted its flame. The scene became clearer. Multiple rows of blankets and pillows were spewed on the floor, most of which were wrapped around shrunk bodies shivering against the cool stone ground. Some people were sat up, staring at the wall through droopy lids, yet the majority of lying figures had their eyes fastened closed.
Arden cleared his throat as they followed Iona across the room. "Is this supposed to be some sort of homeless shelter?" he asked, booting a snoring figure out of his way.
"Have you never been poor, boy?"
His brows twitched. Salo knew the answer to that. The entirety of Sevin knew. "Having been poor once doesn't make me a merciful saint, lieutenant."
"But it makes you an asshole, I suppose?"
Salo's eyes widened as he looked between Arden and Iona. There was some kind of tension he couldn't decipher. The two stared at each other, the seconds ticking by. It was as if the whole world halted to give them the time to glare sufficiently over narrowed lids.
At last, Arden shot her a tight smile and unglued his eyes from hers. He muttered a few words in Mushan, which made the lieutenant's eyes fly out of their sockets.
"Let's not fight right now," Nora chimed in, grabbing Arden's shoulder and hauling him to the side.
Now most of the eyes had turned to the five figures roaming across the room. Some were narrowed, skeptical. Others, belonging to the more desperate, were brimming with hope, dreams of a life outside that hole. Salo's gaze skimmed over the lying figures. Saving Ela was relatively easy, and getting the Kingfisher after that wouldn't be too difficult. Yet getting those people out of poverty? Overthrowing the monarchy? That would take months, maybe even years, and he wasn't sure he was willing to invest so much of his time to this cause.
But the deal had been made. There is no going back now.
Iona lit an oil lamp next to her feet and took it into her hands, shining it on people's faces and booting theirs shins to wake them up. Some jumped up and grumpily left the room, but most scooted over to the center of it where Iona lay the lamp. She motioned for the Arden, Nora, Ailyn and Salo to come sit with her before all the curious eyes, and they reluctantly did.
Once everyone was seated, Iona sighed. "There is much to discuss."
"Yes," Nora said, running her fingers across the rough fabric of her coat. "I have a question; who told you we want to help?"
"I did," butted in Salo.
Everyone seemed to glare at him. He swallowed hard, his eyes scanning the bitter faces. Many things had happened over the last weeks that he would change, and he regretted many of his choices. Sending Ailyn's letter, wasting time when Zhao was confronting them, maybe even agreeing to this mission in the first place. But he didn't regret this. He didn't regret making a deal with people who could help him save his country and his family.
Nora smiled. There was bitterness in her tone as she spoke. "It was a rhetorical question, Salo. What I meant was, I don't want to help."
"Me neither," Arden added.
Iona's unreadable gaze turned to Ailyn.
The girl squirmed awkwardly, her eyes darting to the floor. She hadn't said a word since the carriage incident. Her power had changed, and now she was burdened with the chore of exploring it further, all for the sake of a battle she never chose to fight. Treason was one thing. Rebellion and direct attacks at her old home was another.
"I just do not think sneaking into the palace is a good idea," she muttered quietly.
"Well," Iona exhaled sharply, placing her elbow on her bent knee. "It's too bad you have no choice."
Arden's mouth coiled into a questioning pout. "How so?"
"You must know I prepaid for your services."
The boy's head snapped to the side, glaring at Salo with a frown. "What is she saying?"
Salo's head sank into his hands as the realization hit him. The case. It was gone. All that gold was left back in Bela's house. He raised his head to glance apologetically at Iona, but she didn't seem upset. She had known. It was clear in the slight quirk of her lips.
"We don't have any money," Nora spat, wearily rubbing the side of her face. "We don't believe in your cause. How do you expect us to fight for it?"
The crowd around them started murmuring, people elbowing the ones next to them and whispering insults Salo was glad he didn't have to hear. 'We paid you!' someone yelled over the buzz of mutters, followed by grunts of agreement. Salo lowered his head, massaging the skin underneath his hair. They were right. The Resistance didn't seem to be swimming in money — they lived in the catacombs, after all — and neither did the team. They needed each other now. Going back to Frya was no longer an option.
Iona glanced around her, silencing the protesting crowd. "You don't only help the people you agree with. You help the people who can help you, too."
Arden laughed bitterly, slowly standing. "You can't help us."
"We could bring the girl back."
"The girl doesn't want to be back!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. His face had turned ruby red and his jaw was set in a stubborn sneer. "If she wanted to stay, she would have stayed. She rose the wall between us."
Iona blinked rapidly, slowing craning her head forward. "Wall?"
"I suppose leaving in darkness has diminished your eyesight? You can't have missed it."
The mutters rose again, zooming past Salo's ears. Iona hadn't known who they were looking for before. Maybe having agreed to steal the Prince's half-sister will make her break the deal? Yet her lips were hoisted up by the possibilities and a bright grin lit her face as she whispered Mushan words to the stunned people surrounding her. "The ice wall? We are rescuing that girl?"
Arden's brows jerked in exasperation as his fingers tensed and relaxed repeatedly. "We," he said through clenched teeth, "are not rescuing anyone--"
"You are Fryan, isn't that right?" Iona suddenly queried, tilting her face up to stare right back at the fuming boy. "You can have your house back. Your country. The borders will go down. All you need to do is help us get the girl."
He didn't seem to even consider it. With a huff, he grabbed Salo's shoulder and hauled him up, pushing him out of the room. Once they were outside, Arden's feet shifted nervously. Salo watched almost apologetically as the boy clicked his lids shut and tugged at the roots of his hair.
From the beginning, he knew Arden would be against this. Over those few weeks he had gotten to know him well enough to know — he would always choose the safe path. Despite his impulsive behavior at times, he seemed overly cautious at others. But in a mission like this, one couldn't be cautious. They had to take risks and make irrational decisions, because mistakes always led to successes, somehow.
Salo would keep his head down and spare the smugness. But he wouldn't apologize for finally acting up.
"You took money from them?" Arden asked quietly, avoiding Salo's eyes.
Salo grimaced. That, he could apologize for. "I know. I'm sorry. I should have known they would pull something like this."
"But why? We had some money left. And we had Bela."
Bela wasn't likely to fund them, but at least she provided shelter for them. Now, even that was gone. "They just sounded very convincing. They had this whole hideout — and mostly, they had so much hope. They kept asking where the Halil di Madar was and looked up to me like I was—"
"What?" Arden cut off sharply.
Salo blinked. "What what? You didn't let me—"
"I meant what did you say?"
"Halil di Madar. Is that what you don't get? It's the Mushan name for the Kingfisher."
Arden's already wide eyes seemed as if they would pop out of their sockets. He brought a hand up, holding his head as if it was made of broken glass. Breaths came in and out of his chest shallow. The quiver of his fingers as he slowly lowered his hand was hard to avoid.
Salo took a step forth, staring at Arden's bewildered face in confusion. What is wrong with him? "What? What is it?"
The boy's eyes darted to Salo's frown as if he had forgotten he was standing there. His lips cracked open, the shallow breath rolling out of them glaciating into a cloud of mist in the freezing atmosphere. His knees shook and Salo brought out his arms, afraid the man would collapse. When he didn't topple over his own feet Salo seized his shoulders instead, trying to shake some sense into his head. "Arden. Arden Vera. Tell me what's happening."
His eyes were cloudy, his voice a croak. "I know where it is."
"Where what is?"
As Arden's eyes focused on Salo's concerned features, a small yet certainly worrying smile begun growing on his lips. That's it. He's crazy. Yet the words that left his lips after only brought more shock to the boy. "The Kingfisher. I know where it is, Salo."
The breath caught in his throat as Salo coughed out, staring at Arden's wild eyes. "What are you talking about?" he hissed, removing his hands. "How is that possible?"
Arden shook his head, smiling to himself as he started pacing around the soft snow. "Korin never hid the Kingfisher from us. Lumi Dorona's men hid it from him after he threatened her."
Salo's heart started racing like a rabbit running for its skin. Could he be right? Could the Kingfisher be right before them this whole time? "Where would they hide it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"In the graveyard." Arden ignored the confused glare Salo shot him and continued, "I know this might seem crazy, but you have to trust me. There is a grave with the inscription Halil Di Madar. That must be it."
The sudden burst of energy in Salo's chest was numbed by a bitter reality. "Would people not have dug it up already?"
"What do we have to lose?" Arden whispered. For the first time, there was a glimmer of hope in his metallic eyes, a crack in his bleak attitude. Arden Vera is being optimistic. Salo could hardly believe it. "It was a remote graveyard if that helps. Maybe... maybe Lumi Dorona's men told nobody, and now that they're dead nobody knows the thing is buried there."
Salo took a shaky breath in. Had their journey come to an end? He didn't know how to feel; relieved or sad? He shook his head vigorously. Why would he be sad? This was the moment they were all waiting for weeks now. This was the moment he had abandoned his dying mother for, the moment he dreamt of every single night leading up to this one. "Arden, if this is real— "
"We will sell it to the Resistance," he interrupted. "We will get the money and we will go back to Frya." He ran a hand over his hair, blowing out a heavy breath followed by a short laugh. "I will go. When I find it I'll come find you guys outside the palace. Winter festival night, yeah?"
"Wait," Salo said and attempted to warn him, to tell him goodbye, yet only a low mumble made it out of his mouth. The whole situation hadn't sunk in yet. "You can't go alone."
Arden smiled and nodded toward the low building. "I'll take some recruits with me — if there are any. Don't worry, Canbar. I'm going to be fine."
No, you won't. He never was. Every time things were going according to plan, something happened to mess everything up. What if somebody else knew about the grave? What if he didn't make it to the palace on the night of the mission? A thousand things could go wrong, and Arden didn't seem very frightened.
At last, Salo sighed. "Goodbye, then. And good luck."
"It's not goodbye," Arden said and swung the building's door open. "I will get that bird and I will fix this mess I got us into. I promise."
Salo hoped he would. Yet his promises had a reputation of getting broken.
***
Guess who's back after one whole month?
Okay, so it's an incredibly long story and I don't want to tire you with the specifics. But long story short, I went on a short mental health break since everything seemed to crumble down in my life. I'm better now! Especially with such an eventful chapter being published, I feel both proud and sad that this story is coming to an end.
I believe all of my active readers have fled by now, but if you are still here thank you so much for your patience!
Also please excuse any typos, I had little time to edit this in my break :) Thank you for reading, and please consider leaving a vote and a comment since it helps me immensely! ♥