Cutlass (Cutlass Series)

by Ashley Nixon

  “I’d heard they was pals. Seems odd he’d take ‘em to his death.”

  “Maybe ‘e betrayed ‘em? Never know who Barren Reed’ll cheat to get what he wants, or so I’ve heard. Guess it’s good ‘e came to us. He won’t survive the chambers. He’s too young.”

  “Aye, he might be young, but he’s survived a lot in his short life. I’d wager he’ll last longer than some of our strongest.”

  So they had discovered him, but was he in the chambers or holdings? Now Larkin had no way of knowing. It wasn’t like she could ask the guards. As she thought that, the two men stopped just a few inches from her. They were like shadows in the hallway—all dressed in black, and faces masked. She held her breath.

  “Somethin’s not right ‘ere,” the guard breathed. “The air’s all wrong.”

  Larkin’s eyes widened, her hand tightened around the hilt of her blade.

  “You’ve had too much ale,” the other guard said.

  But he was looking right at Larkin. Desperately, she clung to the wall, willing the darkness to consume her. After what seemed like an eternity, the guard said, “You could be right.”

  The two took off, and once Larkin was sure they were gone, she stepped out of the shadow. She wanted to run, but what was before her might be worse than what was behind her…or so she thought.

  “That’s a pretty.” A voice stopped her in her tracks. “Told ya I wasn’t seein’ things.”

  Larkin turned and saw the two guards who had passed her. They were at the end of the hallway.

  “Hello girlie,” his voice cracked. “Whatcha doin’ ‘ere?”

  The other one had been quiet and observant. He elbowed his friend. “That’s Christopher Lee’s daughter. Bet she was on that ship with Barren Reed. What’d you come here for girlie? Lookin’ for someone to save ya?”

  They both laughed. Larkin took a step back.

  “Oh don’t be afraid of us! We can’t do anythin’ to you until Cas sees you. Once he’s done with you, that’s when we get our turn.”

  They laughed again and that’s when Larkin ran.

  “There’s no gettin’ away from us, girlie! We know every twist and turn of this place!”

  She had no doubt that they did. Whatever she might encounter before her, well that was better than surrendering easily to these people. Besides, she’d seen Cas and that had been enough for her.

  Just as she feared, a guard ambled toward her. By the way he was walking she wasn’t sure he’d spotted her yet. He was staring at his feet, and he stumbled a bit—drunk perhaps? She panicked, and brandishing her weapon, she ran upon him, running her blade along his legs. She knew it wouldn’t be enough to hurt him, just sting, but it did its job. The guard fell to the ground, surprised by the sudden attack. His recovery was sloppy, as he had a hard time rising from the floor. Instead, he gave a loud cry that Larkin was sure would bring every guard in the tower right to her.

  The hall began to level out as she ran and she saw windows ahead. Outside, against the inky-blue of the sky and the orange glow from the fires, she could see the image of the bridge. It wasn’t far from her—only a few windows down, but she was above it. Her eyes shifted to the roof. The only problem was the steepness, but if she could manage to get across it, maybe she could hide in the other tower until things calmed down.

  As she came to the window overlooking the bridge’s roof, she stuck her legs out the frame. She hesitated for a moment, fearing that she might fall off either edge of the roof. There was nothing there to catch her if she fell—just spikes sticking out on either side that might scratch her. Shouts from inside the hall caused her to move. She focused on the roof and pushed herself off the window’s ledge. She landed and wobbled a bit, and then fell forward on her hands and knees.

  “Get back ‘ere you little wench!”

  Larkin got to her feet and, balancing along the top of the roof, she managed to move across with more ease than she anticipated. A bell rang out—harsh and dull—and she knew she was in trouble.

  When she neared the end of the bridge, she noticed there was no window to climb through on the other side of the tower—that only left the bridge beneath her as an entrance. She swallowed—if she thought she’d be safe up here, she’d stay, but she knew differently. She inched toward the edge of the bridge, grasping the spikes in hand. They were cold and metal. She tried not to think what would happen if she fell. She just focused on slipping between spikes, and pushing herself onto the bridge.

  She landed with a loud thud on her hands and knees, so when she got to her feet, two guards were already coming toward her. She kept her blade brandished, waiting for them to make their move.

  “Gonna fight us, girlie?” One of the guards asked as they approached. She couldn’t see his face, but it seemed one of his eyes had been sewn shut. She didn’t say anything, but grasped her blade tighter as the guard moved toward her. He clearly thought taking her captive would be easy—as he kept his blade at his side and reached for her, intending to grab her wrist. What he got instead was a knife through his hand. The guard’s screams filled the air, and Larkin was slammed to the floor. Her breath escaped her. Fear crept into her throat as she struggled to force air into her lungs. She was wrenched to her feet and met yellow eyes.

  The sounds of footfalls tramping the ground echoed in her ears, and she knew she was surrounded.

  “You are Christopher Lee’s daughter,” the man she’d stabbed through the hand spat. He lifted his blade and the curve of the end fit perfectly against her neck. “It’d feel so good to have my revenge.”

  “What’s going on here?” a man’s voice rang out coldly. A burly guard parted the crowd. Larkin recognized him as Cas. Her eyes fell to his weapons. At his side he carried the same curved sword as the other guards, but it was what he held in his hands that scared her the most: a ball and chain. The spikes gleamed bright silver, as if they’d just been sharpened. Every time she glimpsed his face, she swallowed hard in an attempt to keep from vomiting.

  “This girlie here, Cas,” said the one who held her. “She’s been causin’ trouble. Stabbed one of our guards.”

  Cas’s eyes were on her. What Larkin found most frightening was that she couldn’t tell what he was thinking—did he want to kill her? Was he angry at her father too? Did he want revenge?

  “Causing trouble?” Cas questioned. “She doesn’t even belong here.”

  “Had to come on the ship with Barren Reed,” said the other. “Rumors are on the sea that he kidnapped her.”

  Cas did not say anything. Instead, he stepped forward and his big hand grasped Larkin’s shoulder tightly.

  “Get to work!” he cried and the guards scurried away—all but the one she’d stabbed. Larkin knew what his gaze meant—he would see her head on a pike if he could.

  Cas pulled Larkin roughly. She kept pace with him, not wanting to be dragged by him—already his fingers dug painfully into her skin. The sting brought tears to her eyes, but she gritted her teeth hard, knowing she couldn’t show any sign of weakness here. She also knew these men had a reason to hate her father, and that if she had experienced what they had, she would hate him, too.

  Cas took her down several halls that twisted and turned until she had no idea where she was in relation to where she’d begun. There were no windows, and she didn’t know if they had gone farther up the tower, or into its belly. After much walking, they came to a door. Two guards stood on duty. Without question, one opened the door to allow them entrance. Cas pushed her inside and she was consumed in darkness.

  At first she thought he meant to only take her this far—but his presence swelled behind her and he shut the door. Panic filled her, and she began thinking of what she would need to do to get away from him. She still had the dagger at her waist, and if she could manage, she might be able to pull Cas’s sword from his sheath. She’d never fought anyone who wielded a ball and chain before, but she would try.

  Cas’s hand returned to her shoulder. It occurred to her that
he underestimated her will to fight—at least she had some advantage.

  The hall was dark and long, and she wondered what could be down here. She didn’t hear anything—no screams of torture, and at the end of the tunnel, there was a dim light. She decided she would wait until then to attack Cas. She’d have to watch his weapon closely.

  Finally they entered the light, and she saw a cell.

  “Larkin?” the voice was familiar, and her heart rose a little—until Cas threw her on the ground before the cell.

  “What are you doing with her?” Cas demanded, and his voice was like acid raining down on her.

  Larkin hit the floor hard. She scrambled away from Cas, her back to cell the pirates were in. She wanted to look at Barren, but knew taking her eyes off Cas was a bad idea.

  “You haven’t heard?” Barren questioned.

  “Let me ask this a different way,” Cas said, reaching for Larkin. He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her to her feet. She cried out, but didn’t have time to focus on the pain, because Cas had withdrawn his sword and had it at her neck.

  “What are you here for?” the guard demanded. “Cove Rowell delivered you, and it’s rumored you are friends. Next I find this girlie running among my halls. You’re up to something. Better tell me or I’ll take her head right off.”

  Larkin met Barren’s gaze now. His fists were wrapped tightly around the bars that held him captive. He’d been roughed up. Bruises formed beneath his eyes, and his lip was split. She was relieved he wasn’t hurt worse and could actually move. The blade pressed into her neck and a breath escaped between her lips as the pain shot to her head.

  “We came to find someone!” Barren called quickly. “A man—he was delivered here a few days ago, maybe.”

  Cas’s arms rested just a little, and it was enough for Larkin to make her move. She withdrew the small knife she had in her belt and plunged it into Cas’s side. He let out a cry and she grabbed the sword from his loose fingers. She twisted and faced Cas, who pulled the dagger from his body and tossed it aside. Pressing his fingers into his wound, he looked at them in the light, raising his ball and chain. “So you wanna play that way?”

  “Larkin! What in the hell are you doing?” Barren demanded.

  “Saving your life,” she replied.

  Cas laughed, and she saw his teeth were black. She cringed. “Forgive those you’ve wronged,” he said. “Because you are about to take your last breath.”

  Larkin wasn’t sure who was at a disadvantage at the moment. Cas seemed to grow bigger in this small space, but Larkin knew not to underestimate the power of his weapon. Even if he didn’t have much range of motion, it could still prove deadly, and she had to remember that Cas himself was a weapon—as he could easily crush her.

  He charged, swinging the ball and chain over his head. He brought it down upon her. Larkin ducked to the left and twisted, aiming her sword at the guard’s side, but Cas was too fast and stopped the blow with the chain.

  She jumped back quickly, her back hitting the cells. They stood for a moment, staring at each other, attempting to gauge the other’s next move. Cas’s weapon dangled at his side, and the sound of the chains running against one another made Larkin shiver. A smile broke across the guard’s face, and he swung his weapon at her. Larkin ducked again, and the ball and chain crashed into the stone wall, causing pieces of rock to break loose.

  As if the ball and chain were feather light, he reared back and swung it again, bringing the weapon down where Larkin landed. She rolled away from him, and the chain hit the ground. She got to her feet in time to counter a blow to her body with her sword; the force was so great, it ripped the blade from her hands.

  Cas laughed deeply, and he stood there for a moment, taking in the length of her.

  “Such passion when you fight. Let’s see if I can break you.”

  Cas began to swing the ball and chain. Larkin spotted the dagger Cas had cast aside—it lay in the corner, bloodied. She reached for it, having no other weapon handy. The ball and chain flew from his hands and barreled toward her. She moved just in time and it crashed into the wall behind her. It wasn’t until Cas was upon her that she realized it had only been a distraction. His impact sent her stumbling into the wall, but the contact was enough for her to push the dagger into his tough skin. It lodged in his stomach, and Cas just stood still for a moment, staring at the hilt of her blade. He growled.

  “You were lucky before. I was going to go easy on you,” he said. “But now I think you deserve a punishment fitting of your nature.” He cracked his knuckles into his bloody hand. “Perhaps we will brand you with the stigma of the Estrellas fugitives. We can break your fingers, or cut an ear off…or burn your skin and peel it off ever so slowly. Whatever punishment might break you of your unruly behavior. Would it not be grand for the daughter of Christopher Lee to favor those prisoners he ensnared?”

  She shook, and she knew she had to end this now. She caught a glimpse of her blade. If she was fast, she could grab it. She made her move, lunging for her sword, but just as her fingers grasped the hilt and she managed to point it at Cas, he clasped the blade. It was as if he felt no pain as he inched his way toward her hands. He laughed at her shock.

  “What do you take me for? A weakling? I did terrible things to get here. See my face?” he yelled.

  Maybe it was the thought of what Cas would do to her if she was captured, or the knowledge that she was the only one who could free Barren and Leaf, or blatant fear, but something gave her strength. She pushed against the sword with all her might. The blade slipped through Cas’s hands and through his stomach. He fell to his knees and then onto his side, taking in haggard breaths. Larkin hurried to him, kicking him onto his back. She took the hilt of her sword and drove the blade into him over and over again.

  When she was sure he was dead, she reached for his keys and rushed to the cell where Barren and Leaf remained, watching the entire spectacle. Her hands shook so badly, she had a hard time fitting each key into the lock to test it, and the longer it took her to find the right key, the more frustrated she became.

  Barren took the keys from Larkin’s shaking hands and she collapsed against the wall before the cell. With a click, Barren found the right key and the door groaned as it opened. She wasn’t paying attention anymore—her eyes were focused on Cas’s body.

  Barren’s rough hand clasped her face, and she met his gaze. Of all the times she’d looked into his eyes, they had never been as dark as they were now. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, but Barren set his teeth, and she knew he didn’t believe her.

  “Why are you here? Did I not beg you to stay?”

  “I…I thought I could help and I had to know,” was all she could say.

  Barren seemed disappointed, but his hands left her face, and when they did, she felt even more exhausted.

  “Leaf, help me.”

  They moved Cas’s body into the cell. “We have to hurry and find Devon. Leaf, do you know where he might be?”

  The Elf was busy as he pulled Cas’s cloak from his body and folded it over his arm. He straightened, shaking his head. “I’m not sure. We can check the chambers.”

  “Check? We don’t have time to just check the chambers!”

  “Remember this was your stupid idea,” said Leaf. “So don’t get angry with me when it doesn’t go like you planned.”

  “I didn’t have a plan.”

  “Maybe that was your first mistake.”

  Larkin didn’t understand how they could be bickering at a time like this. A guard was dead. And not just any guard—Cas was someone the others would look for.

  Leaf moved past her and Barren and headed down the dark hall. She wasn’t sure she could move right now. Her body was shaking, and she couldn’t take her eyes off the man in the cell. He was lifeless, but somehow, she felt as if he just might rise up and slay her.

  “Hey,” she heard Barren say gently. “We have to go.”

  Larkin looked at him
. His face was close to hers, and now she could see a gash at the top of his brow. “You’re hurt.”

  Barren laughed a little. “Odd time to be concerned about me.”

  Barren helped her to her feet and they moved down the hall, following Leaf.

  Leaf was dragging a body through the door.

  “Leaf! What are you doing?” Barren scowled. “The more of them you kill, the worse off we’ll be.”

  “Should have thought about that before you decided to come here.”

  “Are you trying to teach me a lesson?”

  “No,” Leaf handed Barren a mask and a cloak he had pulled from one of the dead guards. “I’m teaching you survival.”

  Barren understood what the Elf was doing—disguises, and while they weren’t the best, they would at least not be recognized immediately.

  Leaf disappeared again and came back through the door dragging another body. From it, he seized another cloak and a mask and handed them to Larkin.

  “Put these on.”

  She didn’t question him, but she turned from the dead men on the floor as she pulled on the mask. Barren did the same, shuddering as he thought about the face that had once worn it.

  Leaf picked up one of the guard’s swords and examined the blade in the dim light. They would all need one—their weapons had been taken. “These aren’t meant for killing,” he said. “They’re meant to make their victim suffer…to bleed out.”

  Chills ran to Barren’s core. He knew Leaf was trying to make a point—Barren understood, this was both stupid and dangerous, but what else were they supposed to do? They needed Devon. How else were they going to find the bloodstone?

  After they were dressed, and each of them had a weapon, they left the holding cell, making sure to secure the door behind them. The longer everyone went without knowing Cas and two other guards were dead, the better.

  They stood in the shadows for a moment while Leaf found his bearings. Either the Elf was having a hard time telling where they were, or he was listening for things, because he kept peering down the hall, left and right. The Leaf who stood before Barren at this moment was different in some way. He was tense, and his features were harder—his eyes had darkened, snuffing out the mischievous glean that always made them inviting. It was unsettling.