Heartnell’s knuckles have already turned white gripping the wheel. Our strained ride ends at the edge of Verago, where centuries ago stood the Seventh Gate.
Story goes its rock was black as the darkest sky, thicker than a giant’s midriff, and infused with magic that would spark the air blue, twisting it until it looked like billowing cloth.
What’s left of the Gallows Lane looks like a discarded booger-stained kerchief by the road.Like this, all I have room for are half a dozen ready-made magics–fainter, healquick, motion, flask–the necessities. “Like I’m gonna believe that.” His bulbous nose creeps up when he snorts. “You know, there are special scissors, they’re real tiny so you can get ’em up the nostril and just – ” I make a snipping move with my fingers.The window slams shut behind me as I open the door. The boy should have known better than to follow a strange woman home. “You’ll get a discount as soon as they look at you.” I also give him a grin, for good measure.Eyes wide open, amber, stare up at the sky, no expression in them. When she danced, her face would pull her eyebrows up with each jump, her laugh painting the air like magic, I–I don’t know this girl in the gutters. “We dubbed her Sparrow Rose.” I start at Sarge’s voice. ” “Just…” He waves his hand towards the girl’s face, then lets it fall.When I push my finger between the broken X-shaped stitches on her lips, I swear I can hear blood cracking. “White rose petals and birds’ beaks.” I push them around my palm. I outline a rune above the satchel, my finger cleaving the air and emitting a dim white light.He snores and I kick him on the ribs, “Out.” I picked him up in after Tiha knows how many glasses of gin.