The Seer by Rowan McAllister (reading comprehension books .TXT) 📕

tonight and you’ll never have to see me again, so there’s that,” Ravi quipped somewhat hysterically.

Without allowing himself any more time to consider what the hells he thought he was doing, he looped her reins over a nearby fence and trotted into town, his bag thumping against his flank with each step. If she managed to pull herself loose and wander off, he supposed he deserved it.

Having never been to Urmat, Ravi didn’t know exactly where to go. The town was big, probably owing to its proximity to Rassat and having sprung up around the junction of two rivers. A large stone bridge connected the two halves, but Ravi was pretty sure his Vision had been on the near side of it.

As the houses and shops grew closer together and more people appeared in the streets, he stopped in an alley to catch his breath and think. Most taverns tended to be as close to the town’s hub of activity as possible—without being too near the temple, which dominated the center of every town and village in Rassa. If he could find Urmat’s temple—the very thought of which made him queasy—he could work outward from there. Surely the music would lead him the rest of the way, as long as he got close enough to hear it.

He closed his eyes and spun in a circle until the internal tug that had gotten him this far drew him in one direction. Light spilled from windows and the occasional lantern carried by passersby, but Ravi tried to stick to the shadows and avoid people as much as possible. He finally stumbled to a halt when that strange foreboding riding him simply vanished, leaving him bereft instead of relieved. He searched the darkened streets helplessly. Just as he was beginning to get desperate, faint strains of music reached his ears, and he took off running, recognizing the tune from his Vision. This is it. It’s happening now.

The street he blundered into was at once familiar and foreign as he tried to meld the memory of his Vision to the reality. A large door to a well-lit building opened, and that familiar music spilled out into the night, along with a crowd of young men in splashes of guard blue. Ravi’s heart squeezed as he panted for breath.

Now what?

Instinct more than anything had him ducking into the shadows as the men passed. He couldn’t see enough of their faces to know if he had the right group of soldiers, but how many gangs of drunken guards could there be in a town like this?

He probably didn’t want to know the answer.

The men ambled down the street singing, laughing, and being generally obnoxious to everyone they passed, until something caught their attention and the whole group stumbled to a halt.

Ravi’s stomach dropped as he turned in the direction they were staring. He spotted Shura and Mistress Sabin at once and frantically searched the shadows around him.

Where was Daks?

DAKS SWORE under his breath as he hunkered down behind a stack of wooden crates. Shura and Fara had just disappeared down an alley, followed by a group of soldiers. While Daks watched, eight of the men split off in another direction, but Ravi had said a dozen, so the others must be swinging around to block them in from the other side.

Dammit!

If he’d just waited and gotten a little more information from Ravi, he might not have wasted so much time blundering around in the dark and stopped the incident before it started. He hadn’t even asked what side of the river to check. He’d heard “Shura” and “danger” and lost his senses. But honestly, who knew there could be so many taverns in a pious Rassan town? He’d been slacking on his last trip through here, because he apparently hadn’t gotten drunk in even half of them.

He blew out a breath and pushed the recriminations aside so he could think. Shura could take care of herself, but not against twelve armed men while trying to protect someone else. Plus, they needed to get out of this with as little bloodshed as possible, and the only weapons she had were her daggers. If any of the guards were killed, the whole company would drop whatever they were doing and come after them, but Shura would choose a quick, lethal strike before allowing herself or Fara to be hurt.

Leaving his own dagger sheathed at his back, he ripped a cudgel-sized board off one of the broken crates at his feet and hurried after the four men behind the women. If he could neutralize them, they could all slip away before the others caught up. He wished he had a way to get Shura’s attention without alerting the guards in front of him, but he didn’t. And the men were clustered too closely together for Daks to pick them off quietly one by one.

Brawl it is, then.

Shura would get the hint soon enough.

As he ran to catch up, he hefted his makeshift club, testing its balance before swinging it in a controlled arc toward the skull of the nearest guard. The man dropped like a rock. Obviously, his friends spun around at this point, but Daks dropped another one with a shot to the temple before any of them could do more than cry out in alarm.

The two remaining men reached for their belts, but someone higher up must have wisely forbidden them from drunken carousing in the city while armed, because none of them sported swords.

Thank the gods for that at least.

The men did have belt knives, but they’d barely unsheathed them before Daks clocked a third man and the fourth dropped to the ground, revealing Shura behind him.

“We need to go, now,” Daks said, spinning back the way he’d come.

Shura didn’t question him; she simply grabbed Fara’s hand and followed.

Shouts rang out behind them, and Daks gritted his teeth. He hadn’t been fast enough, and the other guards had spotted them. He angled away from the