He pushed himself upright.
The passage was barely wide enough for two people. My shoulder rubbed his chest when I stood. His hand caught my elbow, steadying me for half a second before he let go.
The place inside him reacted to that distance.
Black light exploded beneath his skin.
He bent over with a strangled breath.
"What was that?"
"Keep moving."
"You look like you are about to split open."
"That is because I am."
He started down the passage.
I followed because the wall behind us was already shaking.
"You said you could get me over the wall," I hissed. "You did not say I had to drag a dying nobleman through a murder tunnel."
"I did not ask you to drag me."
He took three steps, then his knees buckled.
I caught him under the arm.
Heat punched through my coat.
The black fire under his skin surged toward my hand.
He slammed me against the passage wall.
His forearm pressed across my collarbones. His face dropped close to mine, and the force in his eyes made my stomach tighten even as my instincts screamed at me to fight.
"Do not touch me again," he said.
"You are the one who grabbed me."
"I am warning you."
"Try warning me without pinning me to a wall."
His jaw flexed.
The passage shook behind him. Dust dropped from the ceiling and caught in his dark hair.
"You have no idea what is under my skin," he said.
"I know it is making you act like an ass."
"It eats through control. Then it eats through everything else."
"So you are dangerous. Great. I was worried this night might become boring."
He looked at my mouth for one quick second.
It was so fast I almost missed it.
Then his eyes snapped back to mine.
"You are not afraid."
"I am terrified. I just do not find it useful to advertise."
His arm lowered.
The second he gave me room, I drove my knee into his thigh.
He grunted and released me.
"That was for the wall," I said.
"You are going to regret that."
"Add it to my list."
Another impact hit the stone panel behind us.
He swore and staggered forward.
I grabbed the back of his coat before he could fall.
"If you die, I am leaving you here."
"No, you are not."
"You are very confident for a man leaking blood."
"You need me alive."
"I need the case delivered. You are just an unpleasant obstacle."
"The case is marked."
I froze.
He noticed.
"What did you say?"
"The seal on the latch. It carries my family's mark. The Wardens are not after the relic inside. They are after whoever touches it."
"You knew that before I took the job?"
"I knew the case left the Ash vault. I did not know who carried it."
"So you used me."
"I used the first person who could open that wall."
"That is not better."
"It was not meant to be."
I shoved him forward.
"Keep walking, Your Highness."
"I am not a prince."
"You are still getting dragged like one."
The passage opened into a cramped storage room under an abandoned print shop. Old paper boxes crowded the walls. A broken press sat beneath a sheet. I knew the place. Everyone who moved contraband through Gloambridge knew the place.
I also knew there was a rear exit.
Riven leaned against a table and pressed his hand to his side.
"How many Wardens?" he asked.
"Three. Maybe four."
"They will call more."
"Then we should go."
"You should go."
I turned toward the rear door.
He caught my sleeve.
The black fire flashed again.
His fingers burned through the fabric.
"Let go."
"Ten steps."
"What?"
"Do not get more than ten steps from me."
I looked at his hand on my sleeve, then at his face.
"You are giving orders again."
"I am telling you what happens if you leave."
"What happens?"
His grip tightened.
"I lose control."
"That sounds like a you problem."
"It becomes a you problem when the fire reaches the street."
The door behind us rattled.
A voice called from the passage.
"Ash! By order of the city, surrender the relic and step away from the courier."
Riven's eyes went flat.
"They know I am here."
"They knew before we entered the passage."
"You think I told them?"
"I think rich men have a talent for making their problems other people's problems."
The door cracked.
Riven grabbed a metal rod from the table and drove it through the handles. His movements were quick, but the last step nearly dropped him.
I caught his shoulder.
He looked down at my hand.
"Do not."
"Then stand up straight."
"You are enjoying this."
"A little."
His skin was burning. I could feel the heat even through his shirt. It should have been impossible for him to stay upright. Yet he did, because apparently pride could keep a dying heir standing better than blood could.
"What is in the case?" he asked.
"You know what is in the case."
"I know what they told me. I want to know what you saw."
"I did not open it."
"Why not?"
"Because I like having hands."
"Good answer."
"Do not sound impressed. It will go to your head."
The door split near the lock.
Riven shoved the rod harder into place.
"The rear exit is blocked?" he asked.
"No."
"Then move."
"You are coming with me."
"I just told you to leave."
"And I ignored you. You should be getting used to it."
I grabbed the case and ran for the rear door.
One step.
Two.
Three.
At four, Riven made a sound behind me.
It was low and rough, like something had ripped through his chest.
I stopped.
"Keep going," he said.
His voice shook.
"You said ten steps. I have taken four."
"Then take six more."
Black flame spilled across his neck.
Not light. Flame. It crawled along his skin without burning his clothes, twisting over his jaw and down his arms. His pupils narrowed until his eyes looked almost silver.
The metal rod bent in his hand.
"Riven."
"Do not say my name like you care."
"I do not care. I am counting."
"Keep counting."
I took one more step.
The floorboards shook.
A dark crack split the table beside him. Heat rolled through the room. The old paper boxes caught fire, but the flames were black and silent.
The door behind Riven burst inward.
A Warden lunged through with a blade raised.
Riven turned.
Black fire snapped from his hand and struck the man in the chest. The Warden flew backward into the passage. His armor hit stone with a hard, ugly clang.
The fire did not stop.
It poured from Riven's fingers, racing along the ceiling and down the walls. Every shadow in the room stretched toward him.
"Stop!" I shouted.