Chapter Thirty-One
Tiel flinched as Rynne cried out and fell backwards. A bolt stuck out of her chest, and he flicked his eyes across the room to the last remaining stairwell. The armored shooter was already angling her weapon around to face him, and he knew he had only a split second to make a choice. He could dive for cover and leave Van alone against two enemies, or he could charge her position and pray to the Goddess that her first shot would miss.
It was an easy decision. Tiel dropped his empty weapon and lunged forward, throwing himself into a flat roll just as she fired. The shot sailed just past his tumbling head, and he bounced to his feet with practiced ease. She hesitated just enough for him to inch a few steps closer, and he made a final lunge when he got within range—
Her shot lodged into his shoulder, but his momentum carried him crashing into her. He swept the weapon from her grip with his left hand and knocked her off the steps onto the floor below. Clenching his teeth in pain, he did his best to flip on top of her and pin her, but she was much faster than he expected. Despite the thick armor plating weighing her down, she somehow managed to roll to her feet and drive the back of her gauntlet into his nose. Tiel grunted and flopped backwards to the ground.
The monk shook his head to clear his vision, and behind him Van let out a guttural roar. Suddenly the flaming body of the Faceless monster stumbled backwards and collapsed to the ground, its decapitated helmet soaring across the room and rattling to the floor. The helmet’s visor glowed eerily for a moment before fading into darkness.
“Drop it,” Van warned through clenched teeth, stepping forward protectively over Tiel. Across from them, the armored woman had drawn a slender blade and stood calmly in a practiced dueling stance.
“You were at Turesk, weren’t you?” she asked.
“That’s right. I thought I recognized you—one of Bremen’s chief lackeys, Major Torn or Thorne or something. I figure I owe you a lot of pain for that day.”
“You’re lucky to have survived at all.”
Van grunted. “Yeah, well, same goes for you right now. We’re not here to hurt anyone. We just want Rook. Put the sword down and it’s all over.”
Her cheek twitched. “I can’t do that.”
”Then you’re about to join your buddies on the floor.”
Thorne twirled her sword in a mock salute before lunging forward with a cross-body slash. Van stepped up to deflect it with his shield, and Tiel rolled to the side until he bumped into the wall. He reached down to the bolt sticking out of his shoulder and pulled. He screamed despite himself and quickly wove healing magic into the wound to stem the bleeding. Sadly, the pain wasn’t going anywhere for a while, but at, least he could still move the arm a bit. It left him three and a half good limbs, and he didn’t intend to let them go to waste.
But first he had to get to Rynne. He dove past the battle, staying as clear as he could while trying not to marvel at the skill of the display. Van clearly had the edge in both strength and reach, but Tiel wasn’t certain he had ever seen anyone with a technique as crisp and clean as this Darenthi soldier. Coupled with Van’s fatigue from having just stared down a Faceless, the glorified duel wasn’t going to last long if Tiel didn’t help.
He bit down hard on his lip as he brought a hand to Rynne’s neck. She was alive, thank the Goddess, and he wove another healing spell into her. A second later her eyes shot open and she gasped for breath.
“Stay down,” he told her. “I’ll be back.”
Tiel spun back to the battle and waited for his opportunity to strike. The moment Thorne extended into a vicious thrust, Tiel dove forward and slid to the ground, then kicked the back of her legs out from under her. She started to fall, but through some inexplicable feat of agility, she managed to catch herself on her left hand and then vault back upright. Van’s sword jabbed into the space she had just left, driving hard into the stone floor and spraying the air with sparks.
Thorne was already moving again. She batted away Van’s shield with a quick slice and then hacked down across his body. He screamed and staggered backwards as a spray of blood darkened his scale armor. Tiel hopped up and defensively shoved Van away just before the woman’s sword plunged through his chest. The big man collapsed to the ground in a ball of agony, alive but out of the fight.
Tiel dove in again, fully aware that hesitation would get him killed. He smacked his left forearm into hers in order to deflect the weight of her attack then slammed his knee into her midsection. As she instinctively crumpled, he released a full kick into her stomach to try and knock her away and wrench the weapon from her grip.
It didn’t work. Instead, his foot banged uselessly against her steel breastplate and she pulled her sword-arm free from his block. He tried to slip in close again, but this time she was ready for it. She spun to the side as he lunged and swept her sword in a clean, downward slash.
He should have lost an arm, but instead her slash veered wide as she cried out in pain. The woman dropped to a knee, and Tiel saw the crossbow bolt lodged in her hip. Just across the room, Rynne desperately tried to hold her weapon up to take another shot.
“Put down the sword,” Rynne whispered. “It’s over.”
The Last Goddess Page 80