Chapter 9 · The Gate That Chose Us

"Run, Mara!" Dax shoved me sideways as a silver-eyed man came through the workshop door with a butcher's cleaver raised.

The blade struck the table where my head had been. Wood split. Glass vials jumped and shattered across the floor.

"You said the binding would hold them back," Dax snapped.

"I said it would hold your heart together. I never promised anything about the neighbors."

Another citizen slammed into the broken doorway. Then another. Their eyes shone silver. Their mouths moved around the same words, over and over.

"Bring her to the gate. Bring her to the gate. Bring her—"

Dax caught the second man's wrist before the cleaver came around again. His fingers tightened. The man's bones cracked.

"You want to explain why half the street is trying to drag you outside?" Dax asked.

"Busy."

"You're always busy when the truth gets close."

The first attacker lunged at me.

I grabbed a brass weight from my workbench and smashed it into his temple. He dropped hard enough to rattle the floorboards.

"Still think I staged this?" Dax said.

"I think you're capable of worse."

"Good. Keep thinking. Move."

He seized my arm and pulled me toward the back exit.