Free Of the Abyss by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes Page A

stay here.”
    â€œRuby,” he mumbled. “You . . . you have to run. It could come back.”
    â€œI had to see what happened,” she said. “Thank the divine you’re all right. But you have to get up. I don’t think you’re badly hurt, but you’ll freeze if you stay here. Oh, here’s the healer. Sister, here he is! Please help me.”
    One of the violet-­robed Sisters of the Napthol ran to his side, and knelt down, telling Ruby, “Don’t move him. If he’s as hurt as . . .” She trailed off, and said, “Let me get some guards to help me carry the stretcher. Miss Upsdell, you should go back inside.”
    â€œI’m not leaving him,” Ruby protested.
    â€œThen at least go fetch some warmer clothes. You’ll both freeze this way. Then you can come with us to the Cobalt Hall.” She raised her voice as she continued, “Guards! Could you please help me?”
    He was pretty sure he could sit up. He struggled to do so, while the healer from the Cobalt Hall conferred with the guards. He recognized them from his own company, which meant some had survived.
    That was good.
    But how many were dead?
    He was half-­upright when one of them said, “Here, let me help you,” and offered a hand.
    â€œThanks.”
    He reached out for the hand. Took it. Was barely aware of the needle-­like blade in the man’s other hand, which caught him by surprise an instant before the darkness did.
    H ansa woke cold, damp, and half-­naked, and unfortunately he knew exactly where he was. The perpetual gloom of the Quinacridone cells was distinctive.
    He was somewhat relieved to discover that he was in one of the first-­floor cells, instead of the deeper ones, which were reserved only for irredeemably evil and violent offenders . . . but that was only slight relief, since it still left him in a cell in a prison only used for sorcerers and their sympathizers.
    Also, he had a roommate, a middle-­aged woman who was staring at him with curiosity and suspicion. Given this cell was generally only occupied by mancers, that normally would have terrified him, but he knew this woman; Rose had been a member of the Order of Napthol before joining the Order of A’hknet. He couldn’t count the number of times she had been picked up due to her outspoken ways, only to be released as a favor to the Cobalt Hall.
    â€œA mancer in the One-­Twenty-­Six,” Rose said, each word bitten off sharply. “I’m not sure who I would accuse you of betraying worst.”
    â€œI’m not a mancer,” Hansa protested. Across his mind’s eye, the images of all his fellows’ bodies flashed. The memory of their screams. Could anyone really think he had something to do with that?
    â€œThat’s what they say,” his roommate said. “I heard them arguing after they tossed you in. Some of the guards don’t want to believe it, but there are dozens of witnesses who say the demon killed the man with you, but let you live.”
    â€œI couldn’t . . .” He had spoken to someone. Asked for help. He didn’t understand exactly what had happened or how he was alive, but he knew he wasn’t a mancer. “The mancer summoned it. Maybe she—­”
    â€œA Numenmancer couldn’t summon an Abyssi,” she scoffed, “and a Numini wouldn’t have bloodied the soldiers that way.”
    Hansa had seen just enough of the Others—­both divine and infernal—­to know Rose was right. Numini could kill, but they did so softly and silently, without ever spilling a drop of blood.
    â€œThey identified her wrong,” he whispered. “We were told she was a Numenmancer, but she must not have been. I . . .”
    Ran away. His friends had been attacked, and he had run.
    â€œI ran,” he whispered. “They were dying. I couldn’t see what was