Chapter 9 · A Map Written in Blood

"Give me your hand, Calder, or I break your wrist and take the blood myself."

Calder Rook stared down at the knife pressed beneath his jaw. His back was against the sealed gate, one hand trapped in Mara Voss's grip, the other braced against the black stone.

"You always skip straight to the charming part," he said.

"You stole the only key that can open this gate."

"I borrowed it."

"You killed two wardens getting it."

"They were alive when I left. One of them even called me a bastard. Very touching reunion."

Mara pushed the blade harder. A thin red line appeared under his chin.

His smile stayed in place, but his eyes dropped to her mouth for half a second. Mara caught it. She hated that she caught it.

"Look at the gate," she snapped.

"I am looking at the gate. You happen to be standing in front of it."

"Keep talking and I’ll give you a better reason to bleed."

"There she is. I was worried the city had made you polite."

The sealed arch behind him was taller than a house, built from dark stone cut through with dead silver runes.