Chapter 1

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An owl hooted in warning.

Sabine brushed her fingers against the handle of a throwing knife strapped to her thigh, but she didn't alter her stride. Boots crunched upon the cobblestone street behind her at a steady beat, keeping pace with her. Whoever had decided to follow her this evening hadn't bothered to mask their intent. The weight of the weapons she carried was a small reassurance, but it was no guarantee of safety.

She turned the next corner, angling her head to catch a glimpse of the people trailing her. A shaft of moonlight illuminated both men's features enough to be certain she didn't know them. Not only that, but they were too well-armed to be out for a midnight stroll. She frowned and adjusted her cloak to better cover her silvery-white hair and continued walking. It wasn't an uncommon color in the city, but it was still distinctive and far too recognizable.

Approaching footsteps from an adjacent alley caught her attention. It might be a coincidence, but it wasn't likely in this part of town. Sabine didn't travel to the more affluent areas of Akros often, and when she did, it was rarely on the surface streets. She was too recognizable—being noticed was something she needed to avoid. If she hadn't agreed to meet with a prospective informant with the hope of learning more about the strange rumors surrounding the city council, she wouldn't be in this situation now. Unfortunately, he'd been as clueless as everyone else. No one wanted to talk about what the council was doing—and that was one more thing to make this situation more infuriating.

At the next intersection, Sabine glanced down the adjacent street. It was a dead end. Mentally kicking herself for her earlier cockiness, she debated her limited options. If they were trying to herd her to a place of their choosing for an ambush, another man would be waiting on the next street—she was sure of it.

Stupid. So stupid. What had possessed her to ignore every lesson shoved down her throat since arriving in the city almost ten years earlier? The shadows surrounding her had become like a second skin—one she'd grown accustomed to wearing. Most people barely noticed her presence anymore, unless she specifically tried to draw attention to herself. For her, such behavior was akin to suicide.

Sabine listened to the leisurely pace of the footsteps following her. So far, her would-be assailants weren't in a hurry to engage her. If she could manage to make it closer to the wharf, she'd be back within safe territory. Safer for her, at least. The same couldn't be said for most others, including the ones currently trailing her.

The streets in this part of town were mostly quiet at this time of night. Businesses were closed, and the good citizens of Akros were safely tucked in their beds. Those who wandered the streets usually risked their purses being lifted and any removable belongings stripped by morning. Of course, that was assuming they managed not to have their throat slit. Shadows came out to play at night, and only the clever or lucky usually survived.

For the most part, Sabine didn't worry about the threat of the miscreants who may be lurking within these darkened streets. They knew enough to leave her unhindered; her associates had made sure of that. The fact Sabine was a target now was more than a little curious—and equally worrisome. It was unlikely this ambush was random, especially since the streets were uncharacteristically empty. Not even a few drunks or beggars loitered in any nearby doorsteps.

She frowned and took a deep breath, inhaling the faintest trace of magic permeating the night air. It was subtle enough she hadn't noticed it right away. It had the feel of a witch or wizard's spell, which was part of the reason she hadn't paid much attention. Most witches and wizards were human who relied on nature magic in the form of herbal tinctures and poultices. Only a rare few had enough power to be much of a threat.

Sabine took another deep breath and nearly stumbled as recognition slammed into her. It was definitely a witch, but there was also a trace of a different sort of magic. It took everything in Sabine's power to keep moving at the same leisurely pace when every instinct warned her to flee. Somewhere in this witch's family tree was a Fae, and that type of magic was much more dangerous, especially to Sabine. The witch's spell had been carefully woven to be little more than a suggestion, encouraging mundane passersby to travel another direction. It was a clever bit of magic, and its passive nature hadn't triggered the warding bracelet around her wrist to warn her. Someone had paid a hefty bit of coin for such a spell.

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