Read Online The Kingdoms of Dust by Amanda Downum - Free Book Online Page A

him.
    They found the alley their tail had taken, a narrow dusty lane shadowed by buildings. Isyllt scanned the rooftops and kept going.
    “You know this is a trap,” Adam said. His breath came rough and painful, but the rush of a chase gave him new strength.
    “Of course.” She tugged off her right glove and the cabochon diamond shone dully.
    Another turn, and this time they caught their quarry ducking around a bend. Adam had the man’s scent now, and it was as bland and forgettable as the rest of him. They dodged sleeping beggars and a startled dog and turned again. They were gaining.
    The next twist led to a dead end. Adam cursed as they stared at a grimy brick wall. The man might have climbed it, but there was no sign of him on the roofs.
    Isyllt nudged him till they stood side by side in the alley mouth. “Look.”
    Tracks in the dirt. Dust recently disturbed settled slowly. Adam breathed in, and that bland brown scent filled his nose. Close.
    “Why are you following me?” Isyllt asked softly, speaking to the wall.
    No. Adam tilted his head and saw the shadow against the bricks. The outline that didn’t quite blend. Sorcery, cunning as a chameleon’s changing skin. His sword hissed free of its scabbard; the sound made his blood sing. Instinct, at least, hadn’t atrophied.
    Isyllt held out a hand. Pale light flickered in her diamond. “I want answers, not blood.”
    The shadow wavered and resolved into the brown man. He drew a long dagger from beneath his cloak. The blade was painted matte. “And if I wanted your blood, I would have spilled it by now. Let me pass.”
    Isyllt had spoken in Selafaïn and he answered in the same tongue. The words were muffled by the dun scarf across his mouth; Adam couldn’t guess his native language.
    She didn’t budge. “Why are you following me?”
    His eyes creased. “Can’t you guess?”
    “I’m tired of guessing. Enlighten me.”
    He stepped forward, slow and cautious, hands wide and nonthreatening. “If you must know—”
    A flare of nostrils, a shift of weight. A heartbeat’s warning.
    The man moved like water, his blade a black blur. Adam lunged, swung. Too slow. Too weak. At least he was a distraction; the brown man twisted mid-strike, only inches from Isyllt, to block Adam’s blow. Steel rang. A twist, and the hilt wrenched from his fingers. In one smooth move the man drove his knee home, and Adam fell retching.
    Through watering eyes he watched Isyllt collide with the assassin, black hair flying as her scarf fell away. She hadn’t drawn her knife, but she could kill with a touch.
    So why, heartbeats later, were they still scrabbling in the dust? Adam pushed himself up, groping across packed earth for his sword.
    Isyllt’s hands were around the man’s neck, his face already a mess of scratches. Blood smeared hers. She held on like a terrier, but he wedged a boot into her gut and flung her back.
    “Bitch,” the man choked, a note of admiration in his voice. He rolled to his feet, still graceful despite his purpling throat. “I would have made this easier—”
    He choked and stumbled sideways, a scarlet bubble bursting on his lips. A dark stain spread down his shoulder. Adam knocked Isyllt aside as the man’s knife thumped against the dust. The man followed a heartbeat later, knees buckling. As his bloody hand fell away, Adam saw the weighted dart that pierced his throat. Red mist sprayed from his nose and mouth as he tried to breathe.
    Black cloth swirled on the rooftop and was gone.
    They waited, breath held, pressed against the cool plaster while the brown man kicked and gurgled his last, his dun scarf soaked red. His dullness faded as he did—the smell of blood and shit filled the narrow alley, as strong as any death.
     
    For a long moment Isyllt lay still, Adam’s arm pressing her into the dust. As the shock of battle faded, her pulse pounded in scrapes and bruises. The chill in her diamond numbed her right hand.
    It was only when Adam pulled