Chapter 15 · Beneath the Iron Walls

The roof of the Customs Hall shuddered beneath Xia Lan’s boots.

Far below, Riftport burned in narrow, controlled lines. Oil lamps swung from the market arches. Search parties moved through the streets with rifles raised, their red armbands bright against the smoke. Every few seconds, a loudspeaker crackled from a tower and poured Ivra Kohn’s voice over the city.

“Report all sightings of the silver-winged murderer. Harboring the creature is treason. Any accomplice will be treated as an enemy of the Crown.”

The words crawled across Xia Lan’s skin more effectively than the winter wind.

She stood near the roof’s broken parapet, one hand pressed against the place where a bullet had grazed her ribs. Her silver wings were folded tight behind her, feathers trembling whenever the loudspeaker spoke. The little girl with the yellow scarf was gone now, carried into a shelter by two dockworkers who had nearly shot Xia Lan minutes earlier.

Nearly.

That was the part that stayed with her. The rifles pointed at her. The hatred in their eyes. The instant she could have killed them—