Free Sunbolt (The Sunbolt Chronicles) by Intisar Khanani Page B

treaties with the High Council of Mages, treaties that assure they never drink from an unwilling victim.  
    From her expression, I know that Alia understands as well as I that this fang is not safe like those others. This fang has come for her blood.  
    “How precious.” The stranger chuckles softly. I hear the click of his boots as he comes to stand before my cage. “How long do you think you can protect her, girl?”
    Blackflame makes a strangled sound. I keep my eyes focused on Alia. “That’s no girl, Kol. That’s the Ghost.”
    The fang, Kol, sniffs the air. “I know a girl when I scent one. I take it your Ghost is meant to be a boy?”  
    “Open the door,” Blackflame orders, his voice dark with fury. He knows. If there’s one thing his spies have ferreted out for him, it’s that the Ghost is unarguably a man. Well, at least I can distract them from Alia. Still, I cling to her until a soldier rips me away. As much as I don’t want the fang to harm her, I don’t want him to touch me, either.  
    They haul me from the cage. I manage to salvage some dignity, standing up straight even with my arms pinned tight behind me. I force a smile through cracked lips, tasting the dried blood smeared there from my nosebleed. “What’s wrong, Blackflame? Catch the wrong person?”
    He hits me across the face, only it isn’t just a slap. It contains his rising fury, fueled by his magic, and it rips me from my captor’s grip when no amount of my own struggling would have. I slam against the wall, collapsing in a heap on the floor.  
    Now would be a good time to black out, I think groggily. But I don’t.  
    I watch as a set of men’s embroidered slippers approach, flickering apart into two sets and then resolving back into one as I blink my eyes. A hand grabs me by the front of my cloak and hauls me up. I choke as the cloth tightens around my throat.  
    “Where is the Ghost?” Blackflame hisses, his face barely a hand span from my own.  
    “Wouldn’t tell you even if I knew,” I say, and then, marshaling my forces, I spit at him. Considering he’s only a little farther away than my own nose, it’s impressive how little of my saliva actually hits him. He curses, hurling me across the room. I hit the ground with bone-jarring intensity, rolling twice before coming to a stop sprawled against the torture table.  
    Blackflame bends over me as I struggle to inhale, force air into my lungs before I suffocate. “How did he escape?” He glances towards the cages, towards Saira. “Was he even there to begin with?”
    “Oh, he was there,” I manage. I try to sound amused, but I’m wheezing too hard to sound anything but pained. “Waited until the Degaths were settled, and then headed out. Your soldiers were just too stupid to put things together. They knew I couldn’t fight, but did they notice I don’t have a scabbard for my sword? Or that my cloak is too long? But then … you didn’t notice, either.”  
    His features twist. He lifts me up so that my toes barely brush the floor. The cloak flaps around them, clearly made for someone at least a head taller than me. Blackflame drops me onto the torture table.  
    Oh God, no.
    “You know,” Kol says, “I’m curious just how much fight the girl has in her.”
    I flinch.
    Blackflame pauses. A smile plays over his thin lips. The only sound in the room is the painful gasp of my breathing. “Oh?”
    “I might have a use for her. It would be slow,” Kol says, crossing the room to us, “and painful. For both of them.”
    “Both of them?” Blackflame echoes.
    “Yes,” Kol says absently. “Look at me, girl.”
    I force my eyes shut, shaking with the effort. A hand touches my face, fingers tapping my eyelids. I feel sickeningly exposed, pressed flat against the table. “Come now, don’t you know it will be easier if you look?”
    I shove his hand away, clenching my jaw with the effort to keep my eyes closed. He chuckles, the sound coming from just