Chapter 16 · The Dawn Hanging

The plaza smells like rust and wet stone. Mara can taste it on her tongue, that sharp metal taste that means blood's been spilled here before. A lot of it.

Julian's weight sags against her shoulder. He's still breathing, but every breath rattles. The wound in his side hasn't stopped bleeding since they dragged themselves out of the archives. She can feel it in her own ribs, that hot wet ache that says the binding's still live.

"Keep moving," she mutters. Her boots slip on the cobblestones. Dawn's breaking over Greyhaven's rooftops, all pink and gold like the city thinks it's pretty. Like it doesn't have execution scaffolds in every district square.

The plaza ahead isn't empty.

Mara stops. Julian stumbles into her, nearly takes them both down.

"No," he says. Just that. His voice cracks on it.

The scaffold stands in the center of the square, same as it has for two hundred years. Iron frame, bloodstained platform, noose already tied. Mara's seen drawings in history texts. She's never been stupid enough to come see it in person.

Until now.

Elias is waiting at the base of the scaffold.