Shard Knight (Echoes Across Time Book 1) by Matthew Ballard Page A

to go. Guards are coming up the stairs,” he said.
    “How do you know?”
    “You have to whisper. I hear them on the second floor. If I can hear them, they can hear me. It’s time to go.” He lowered his voice as he spoke.
    “We can’t go back down there. They’ll kill us,” she said voice lowered.
    “We aren’t using the stairs. We’re going out that way.” He pointed toward the balcony.
    Her face turned ashen. “You can’t be serious. That’s a thirty foot drop.”
    He took a tentative step forward and slammed into the wooden door frame a dozen feet away. The wood under his shoulder splintered, but he felt no pain. “I’ve got to learn to control this power.”
    Rika crossed the bedroom and stepped onto the third-story balcony.
    Ronan focused on slowing his walk, and this time he managed a normal cadence joining Rika on the balcony.
    Outside, the night breeze brought with it sharp new scents. The river wreaked of rotting seaweed and dead fish, while the tannery’s acidic lime odor mingled with the aroma of fresh bread baking at The Queen’s Heart.
    His stomach growled. “Climb on Rika. Let’s go.” He bent forward and motioned toward his lower back.
    “Are you crazy? You almost ran into a wall a second ago. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
    “Of course I don’t know what I’m doing, but in about two seconds we’re going to have every shard knight in Freehold after us. Quit arguing and hop on.”
    She climbed on him and wrapped her legs tight around his waist. “Am I hurting you?”
    “No. You’re light as a feather. Hold on.”
    She pressed into his body curling her arms around his chest. “Go, but don’t you dare drop me.”
    “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” He reached behind him and tightened his grip on her legs and leaped off the terrace crossing ten feet of open-air before landing on a lower rooftop. She felt good pressed into him, and he held her steady as they flew through the air.
    The sensation of flying sent his heart soaring, and pure freedom flowed through his blood. The jump felt effortless. Ronan jumped from rooftop to rooftop working his way back across the Lord’s District following the smell of freshly baked bread.
    ***
    Light spilled from The Queen’s Heart’s frosted windowpanes. Genuine laughter, warm conversation, and upbeat fiddle music mingled with the aroma of fresh bread and lamb stew wafting from Mistress McClaren’s kitchen. The locals loved the inn for its specialty ale and home cooked meals, and nobles never stepped foot inside the Laborer’s District which made the inn an ideal meeting place.
    The smell of fresh bread and honest laughter eased the nervous tension Ronan amassed from the raid on House Randal. For the first time, he felt confident with his path, and the missing puzzle pieces snapped into place. He strode to the entrance and held the door open wide for Rika. “After you M’Lady.” He bowed and swept his arm inward as Rika stepped past him.
    Rika laughed. “Why thank you kind sir.” She walked through the door into the Queen’s Heart.
    Costa Cullen’s fiddle music roared, and the crowd clapped in unison. A red-haired harried serving girl dodged patrons as they sang along to the bawdy song Freehold Loves a Lady . In one hand she hoisted a tray laden with steaming plates of lamb stew, and, in the other, she held two pewter mugs brimming with Master McClaren’s finest.
    The serving girl’s mouth broadened into a wide smile. “Hello love,” Fiona said. “Wherever you can find a spot.”
    “Thanks Fiona. We’ll do that,” Ronan said.
    “Am I invisible?” Rika said. “I swear every time we come in here she pretends I don’t exist.”
    Ronan pointed to a cozy booth across the crowded room. “Over there’s a table.”
    Long leering looks preceded catcalls as Rika strode through the crowded inn still wearing her ball gown. Drunken patrons gave her enough room to squeeze past but no more.
    He followed in her wake