Mercurial Naomi Hughes (suggested reading txt) 📖

in the moonlight. Its flourishes were sewn with shimmering metallic thread, which made it beautiful, and also allowed it to be Smithed to protect its wearer as well as any suit of armor. Atop her head rested the Iron Crown.

The woman, who was the empress Sarai, shook her head at her younger sister. “As if I could rest, knowing you were out here risking your life just to get a breath of fresh air.”

The Destroyer shrugged one shoulder, then lifted a hand, summoning a foot-tall flame with no visible effort. The light of it glinted off Sarai’s silvery crown and was swallowed up by the Destroyer’s black one. “It’s not as if I can’t protect myself.”

Sarai clucked her tongue chidingly and raised her palm toward the flame, using her own magic—the ability to manipulate air—to create a vacuum that smothered it. The Destroyer dropped her hand and let the last few sparks die. The darkness washed over her expression again.

“If you truly think you can protect yourself so well,” Sarai said, strolling over to join her sister at the railing, “then will you finally get rid of that one?”

That one. She meant Tal. He didn’t look, instead continuing to scan the remnants of the city for potential enemies. He couldn’t quite tamp down the hope that stirred within him, though.

“No. He’s mine,” the Destroyer said, a note of finality in her voice. Tal’s hope died. He clenched his jaw, being sure to keep his face turned away from the pair.

He shouldn’t have hoped. He should have known better by now. Even if the Destroyer was willing to dismiss him, his oath couldn’t be so easily lifted. Some of the more malleable metals, in the hands of a skilled Smith, could be convinced to give up the promises they held within themselves. Gold or even copper could sometimes be reasoned with. But never iron. It would force him to stay close to the Destroyer and protect her for the rest of his life.

In any case, he was sure that the empress hadn’t been suggesting he be freed from his oath anyway. When she suggested “getting rid” of him, she’d been alluding to a more permanent solution. He and the Destroyer didn’t spend much time in the empress’s company, but she never had liked Tal. And bad things usually happened to anyone Sarai didn’t like.

A shadow moved in the darkness between train cars. Tal’s hands went to the hilts of his dual blades. He strained his eyes but couldn’t make out any further movement. Likely it was just a feral cat. Or, less likely but still possible, a villager who had survived the city’s punishment. He hoped it wasn’t the latter. Survivors were to be hauled back to the Alloyed Palace to face a mockery of a trial for whatever offenses their city had committed—in this case, supporting the rebel Saints—which would almost certainly end in a far worse death than being instantly incinerated, as most of the townspeople here had been yesterday.

“As you wish,” the empress said, good-natured puzzlement in her tone as she conceded to Tal’s survival. She leaned against the railing and reached out to brush a stray curl away from her sister’s cheek. “You had another nightmare?” she asked.

The Destroyer turned her face away, gazing over the rubble of the city. The dawn was breaking in full now, the murky light sharpening, defining the shadows in unforgiving lines and angles. “I’m fine,” she told her sister.

Sarai pursed her lips in concern. “I’ll send for the Lord of Copper. He can do your next treatment on our way home today.”

The Destroyer’s answering smile was thin. “Another injection? There’s no need for me to worry about assassins after all, when you’re the one constantly poking holes in me.”

The darkness between the train cars shifted again. This time, in the growing bluish light, Tal was able to make out a human form—and the flash of a bronze mask.

Heart suddenly pounding, he drew his weapons. A bronze mask meant a Saint, one of the zealots trying to overthrow the ruling class. Their assassins had been growing bolder than ever lately. Last month, one of them had succeeded in killing a lesser lady of the Platinum family. Maybe, just maybe, this one might be better than Tal. Maybe this one might be able to kill the Destroyer.

He tried to tamp down the hope. As ever, he didn’t succeed.

The Saint was closer to the Destroyer than he was. By the time Tal started running, the assassin—a girl, or perhaps a young woman by the way she moved, with brown skin and dozens of long black braids—was already a step ahead of him. A gleam of metal was in her hand, flashing orange with the light of sunrise. She was completely silent and as quick as a mooncat.

He tried to slow his steps. Just a touch, barely enough to matter. It didn’t work. His oath demanded his best effort, shoved him forward as surely as a battering ram between his shoulder blades. He reached the Destroyer first, just as she turned to see what the commotion was.

The Saint pulled her dagger back for the final lunge. She lifted off on her left foot and stabbed forward. The Destroyer inhaled sharply, the empress behind her just now looking to see what was the matter, as Tal flung himself between his charge and the assassin. He sliced one of his blades upward and the other one out.

His left sword clanged against the lifted dagger. The small weapon spun away from the girl’s grip, flying uselessly into the ash of the city below. His right sword cut through the Saint’s shoulder, meeting bone. She gave a muffled cry of pain—which made Tal pause for half a second, trying to understand why the girl’s voice had sounded faintly familiar. But the girl didn’t slow, instead pivoting her momentum into a sideways tumble that took her between the bars of the railing. She landed nimbly on the street below. A