by Vivian Arend
“Get ready to release the next one,” he ordered.
“Why?”
“Because there’s a reason why the emperors have always ended the barrier over a sea or river. Barbarians hate water.”
The high-pitched zing sounded behind them, keeping her from asking what he was planning on doing. The laser blast hit the wall just over her left shoulder. A scream rose from her throat as she shielded her face from the debris.
Marcus cursed and moved between her and the Barbarians, his hands planted on her shoulders and pushing her forward. “Is that bomb ready?”
She fumbled for another one while she continued to run blindly in the darkness. Her skin prickled once again, and the roar of the river sounded overhead. They were inside the barrier now. She gathered her magic and waited for Marcus’s order.
He stopped where the water seeped into the tunnel and turned around. “On the count of three.”
The screech of more lasers pinged around them. She fought to keep her hands from shaking as he counted. When he came to three, she triggered the bomb and lobbed it up in the air.
The bomb exploded before it hit the ground. The brightness blinded her, and her ears rang from the boom. Her feet slipped out from under her from the force of the blast, but this time, Marcus didn’t catch her. Her gaze tipped toward the ceiling just in time to see the crack above spread, widen, and finally burst.
A wall of water rushed into the tunnel. Sexta managed to draw in a lungful of air and seal her mouth shut before it slammed into her with the force of a battering ram. Her ribs stiffened, refusing to let go of the precious air they protected. Her body rose from the ground and swirled in the vicious eddies created by the cave-in. Blackness bloomed along the edges of her vision.
This is it. This is how I die.
She prepared to enter the oblivion of death, but an arm hooked around her waist and dragged her up to the surface.
A hoarse cough rattled from her chest, and she choked on the mixture of air and water that flowed into her mouth.
“Breathe, damn it!” Marcus ordered.
She followed his command, fighting back the panic that threatened to pull her under. Once the burning in her lungs cooled, she focused on matching his kicks to keep their heads above the water while they rode the wild tidal wave.
“Do you still have the third bomb?” he shouted.
She felt down her torso until she came to the rucksack. By some small miracle of the gods, the remaining bomb was still inside. “Yes,” she called back.
“Good.” He swam toward the edge of the tunnel and gripped a small ledge. His fingers blanched from the strain of resisting the current and the rising water. “Trigger it and set it right here in this crevice.”
“But what will you hold on to?”
A wave sloshed into his face, drowning out his reply. His fingers slipped the ledge, one by one. Time was running out.
Time to stop asking questions and trust him. She released a stream of magic that rivaled the river around them, shortening the fuse. The bomb barely managed to wedge into place before Marcus was forced to let go. Water rushed over their heads, followed by a dampened boom. The final explosion hurled her body forward. Boulders tumbled around them, blocking out the light. And for the second time that day, she braced for death.
Yet somehow through all the chaos, Marcus managed to hold on to her. He cradled her body against his own, shielding her from the mayhem. He’d vowed he would protect her with his life, and she no longer questioned his devotion. She entwined her arms around his neck and found solace in his embrace. She might die today, but she wouldn’t be alone.
The rocks continued to fall, and the river dried up beneath them. They sank to the ground, their bodies soaked and sore. For the next minute, their coughs echoed off the walls as they caught their breaths. Then Marcus rolled onto his back and started laughing like a boy who’d pulled the ultimate prank. “It worked!”
Before she could utter a word, he pulled her to him and kissed her like a man coming home after a long journey. In that moment, she forgot about the cold darkness and her battered, bruised body. She let herself drown in his passion and tasted the love he bore her in every flick of his tongue, every gentle caress of his fingers. She clung to him and surrendered to a different kind of oblivion. Instead of death, she found life in his arms. Raw, vibrant, pulsating life. And now that she’d experienced it, she’d be a fool to ever let it go.
He ended the kiss and brushed a wet lock of hair out of her face. “Are you badly hurt?”
She shook her head and tried to rise, but the stinging from her ribs forced a hiss from her lips. “Just sore,” she admitted.
“There’s a healing rod on my ship. When we get back, I’ll make sure to fix what’s broken.”
“I don’t care about the pain.” She rested her head on his shoulder, her energy waning. “I’m just glad to be alive.”
Her heart still drummed in her chest, and she peered into the darkness around them. The familiar tang of panic filled her mouth. “Do you think we’re on the right side of the barrier?”
“I hope so.”
Fear dug its claws into the base of her spine. “What do you mean, you ‘hope so’?”
“Forgive me if I got a bit turned around while keeping you from drowning.”
She crawled to her feet, running her hands along the wall to guide her steps. Terror mounted with each breath she took. Memories from her childhood mingled with what had just happened, settling over her chest like a heavy stone. Her fingers and toes tingled, and numbness slithered up her limbs.
“Sexta, what’s wrong?”
Her path ended in a wall of rock. She turned, searching for an opening while trying to calm the quivering in her heart. “We’re trapped, aren’t we?”
“I can’t tell for certain.”
The air grew thin, just like it had the day her mother had locked her in the trunk. No matter how deeply she drew in a breath, it wasn’t enough. Her head swam, and tears prickled her eyes. “What happened to the lantern?”
“I don’t know.” He grabbed her and pulled her back against his chest. His hands were warm against her cheeks. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
A strangled sob formed in her throat. “I don’t like the dark, and I especially don’t like being trapped in it.”
“Why?”
She bit her bottom lip and locked her knees to keep from passing out. “When I was little, my mother would sometimes lock me in a trunk in her room when she had clients over. One night, she forgot to let me out.”
Marcus sucked in a breath through his teeth. His hands remained on her cheeks, but he pressed his forehead against hers, still giving her the space she needed. “And then what happened?”
“Djer heard me screaming and let me out. My mother had left the room with her client. If he hadn’t saved me…” Her voice caught as the memories of that night slammed into her again.
“Is that why you freed him?”
She nodded and leaned into him.
“Then think about this, Sexta. If he freed you once before, who’s to say he isn’t on the other side of that rockslide coming to free you now?”
His calm words were like a balm on the raw panic, soothing it and easing her anxiety. Yes, Djer would come looking for her. But more important, she was with a man who made her feel safe. “Thank you, Marcus.”
“For what?”
“For saving my life.” She paused and added, “And for helping me put things in perspective.”
“There are a few more things I’d like to help you put in perspective.” He ran his fingers along her jaw and lifted her chin. “Like us.”
She braced for another passionate kiss, but he merely brushed his lips against hers. But it didn’t matter how deep or long the kiss was—it still left her breathless and longing for more.
“Stay here while I scout out our situation.” He let her go and moved through the darkness like a cat, never stumbling as he explored the chamber around t
hem. He circled the space twice before stopping. “I think the water’s on this side, so we know not to go there.”
“How can you tell?” Water still swirled around her ankles, and every surface she touched was wet.
“I can feel a trickle through the rocks.” He crossed the space. “This should be the way back to Shalfak, so let’s focus our efforts here.”
“And what if we’re on the other side of the barrier? What if that’s the way back to the Barbarians?”
“Would you rather sit and wait until we run out of air? Or worse, before the river breaks down the other wall?”
Her chest tightened as though she was drowning under the rushing water again. She hurried toward the sound of his voice and dug her nails into the small crevices. “I think I want out of here more than you.”
“You mean you don’t enjoy spending time alone with me?”
The persistent jolt of fear shivered up her spine, never letting her forget they were trapped in a dark place. “I’d enjoy it more if we were out of here.”
“Then let’s find a way out, shall we?”
For the next hour, they tore away at the rubble, searching for a weak spot that might open the tunnel to them. Every time they loosened the rock a bit, a new avalanche would erase their gains. Dust coated her skin and stung her eyes while the water continued to rise up to her knees. Her fingers were still numb, although more from the cold than from fear. After yet another shower of debris rained down on them, Marcus led her away from the wall.
“It’s getting unstable.”
“You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“It might be, but I want you to stand back just in case.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “In case of what?”
“In case I make it worse.” Marcus rammed at the rocks with his shoulder. The thud of flesh meeting stone echoed through the chamber, followed by the rumble of falling rock and a groan of pain.
Sexta’s throat tightened. “Marcus?”
“That’s going to leave a bruise,” he replied, sounding farther off than before.
“Do you need help?”
“Not really, but I think you’d better come here.”
She crept forward with her hands in front of her, still unable to see much in the blackness. Her sandal caught a stone, and she tumbled forward into a pair of well-muscled arms. A few seconds passed before she oriented herself. She was on a bed of rock. The familiar smell of leather and spice she’d always associated with Marcus filled her nose, confirming he was the one under her. But the faint light in the distance was something new.
She fisted her hands into his damp tunic. “Is that—?” she whispered, unable to utter the name of the creatures they’d fled.
“Only one way to find out.” He tilted his head back and shouted, “Hello.”
“Marcus?” a man called back.
“In the flesh.” He scrambled to his feet. “What took you so long, Rufius?”
“What do you mean, what took us so long? You’re the one who’s been in these tunnels for the better part of the day.”
The light bobbed closer, illuminating the faces of their rescuers.
“Is my mistress with you, Marcus?” Djer asked.
“Of course she is.” Marcus grabbed her hand and helped her over the remaining rubble as the others joined them.
Her mouth went dry. How many times had he risked his life so far today? “I’m alive, Djer, because of Marcus.”
“So you finally did the honorable thing and saved the damsel in distress?” Rufius teased. He held up his oil lamp and winced. “Remind me never to fall in love. It looks brutal.”
The light revealed a long gash along Marcus’s arm, the numerous red marks that would likely turn into bruises, and a right eye that was swollen shut. He looked like he’d just been in a bar fight, but his mouth still rose into a carefree grin. He pulled her to him and held her close as they made their way back to Shalfak.
A warm glow filled her, burning ten times brighter than the oil lamp that chased away the darkness. No one had ever been willing to pay such a high price for her. Nobles had bid extravagant amounts for her virginity when her mother had auctioned it off, but not a single one of them would have said she was worth risking his life for.
No one except Marcus, that is.
And for the first time in her life, she finally understood what it felt like to be loved.
CHAPTER SIX
Marcus could push past his bruised and aching muscles, but he couldn’t ignore the ominous knot tangled in his gut. Neither he nor Sexta had mentioned to the others what they’d seen on the other side of the barrier. One set of exchanged glances told him she didn’t want to worry the men anymore than he did. But he couldn’t wait to get back on the ship and contact Titus. The emperor needed to know about this right away.
“You two are being awfully quiet.” Rufius looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two had a nice little diversion while you were down here.”
“Do we look like we spent hours fucking each other senseless?” he shot back.
“More important, do I look like a woman who’s been thoroughly satisfied?” Sexta added.
He didn’t try to bite back the grin. Not that he would’ve minded thoroughly satisfying her. Maybe once everything was said and done, he’d be able to convince Sexta to spend a week in his bed and make her come over and over until they were both too exhausted to move. He could feel her resistance crumbling with each kiss. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be much longer before she stopped denying her obvious feelings for him and, more important, stopped running from him. Then maybe he could see if they had a chance at a future together.
But right now, there were too many unanswered questions. If they could cross the barrier by way of these tunnels, so could the Barbarians. Worse, even though they’d destroyed this tunnel, there could still be dozens more scattered throughout Alpiria. And that thought alone was enough to add urgency to his steps.
Tendrils of fog coiled from the open hatch when they came to the warehouse. The same eerie silence hung over them as they climbed out of the tunnel. Despite everything that had happened, the town remained as dead as its missing citizens.
Marcus approached the sentries stationed outside, a whisper of unease grazing the back of his neck when he saw their blank expressions. “Any trouble while I was gone?”
One of them gave him an almost imperceptible shake of his head, but neither soldier looked at him.
Rufius rubbed his arms. “Let’s get going before this place does any damage to our men.”
“Agreed.” He already saw the toll it was taking on them, from the tight set of their jaws to the waxy hue of their skin. If he stayed any longer, he risked a mutiny. Besides, the sooner he got back to Emona with his report, the sooner Titus could do something to stop the Barbarians.
He took Sexta’s hand and led her back to the ship, not wanting to lose her in the heavy fog that blanketed the streets. They were almost to the docks when a loud boom shook the deathly quiet.
He tightened his grip on her. “That sounded like a black powder bomb,” he said, accusation dripping from his words.
Her eyes narrowed, and she tried to yank her hand free. “What makes you think I know anything about it?”
“Because you seem to have an affinity for them.”
Another explosion rocked the city, shattering the stucco façades of the nearby buildings.
“It seems to be coming from her ship,” Rufius added, drawing his sword and leading the charge of men.
“I swear by all the gods, I know nothing about this.” She struggled to free herself from his grip, but he held on. Not even the threatening glare from her bodyguard could loosen his fingers.
“Then why are your men firing at us?”
“I told you, I don’t know.”
“My mistress speaks the truth,” Djer added, his dark eyes simmering with barely controlled anger. “Our men are locked away
, and they would never try to leave without their captain.”
A third boom sounded a split second before the road in front of them exploded. Marcus wrapped his arms around Sexta as the force of the blow knocked them off their feet and pelted them with pebbles of crumbled cobblestones and mortar. His skin stung from the dozens of new cuts, but when the smoke cleared, she was safe and shaking in his arms.
“Djer is right. My men are well trained.” Her voice hitched with a note of panic, and her eyes said far more than she’d dare speak. “There must be another reason why they are firing on us.”
The unease that had gathered at the base of his neck spread throughout his body and chilled his blood. What if the crew of The Temptress was fighting off a horde of Barbarians?
He pulled Sexta to her feet. “We need to get back to my ship immediately and set sail,” he ordered before sprinting toward the docks behind Rufius and the soldiers in front of him.
Sexta stumbled after him, still caught in his grip. “But what about my ship?”
Before he could answer, another bomb ripped through the city. Bright flames warred with the smothering fog and cast flickering shadows around every corner.
“Too late to worry about it.” He spied The Seventh Wind through the haze of smoke and raced toward it.
“But my men—”
“They’re the ones trying to kill us, in case you failed to notice.” He’d barely set one foot on the gangplank when another deafening boom sounded. His ears rang from the intensity of it, and the docks rippled underneath him. Cries of pain mingled with the crack of splintering wood.
Marcus shoved Sexta forward onto the deck as the gangplank pitched to the side. His men shouted behind him, falling into the gap between the destroyed dock and the ship. Regret choked up his throat, but he didn’t have time to mourn them. He bolted forward and curled his fingers around the thin ledge of wood on the side of his ship. His chest rammed into the hull, knocking the wind from his lungs. His vision swam, and his grip slipped. He was falling.