Guards, and a lot of them. On their way up the stairs. They were searching for me.
Damn it, I’d hoped to have more time. Nothing I could do about it now. I slammed the double doors with a thunderous boom and dropped the massive iron bar down into the catch.
“I’ll be out when I’m damned good and ready,” I said to the locked door.
I turned and walked the length of the narrow carpet that ended at the edge of the dais. Promise and Bloodreign had already been mounted on the wall above Silverlight. No matter. I’d stand on the back of the throne to get them if I had to.
“Whatever shall I do with you, woman? Such an annoyance. And a bit of a liability.” Garai’s sibilant voice slithered from the darkness.
He startled me, but I was not entirely surprised he was there. “Ah, but not nearly the annoyance and liability I intend to be,” I said.
I stood still, one hand on a dagger, and let my eyes adjust to the gloom. Garai was sitting at a small counting table in the back corner. I would’ve walked right past him to get to the swords.
He would’ve known that. I would’ve been an easy capture. Why did he reveal his presence and stop me?
I knew the answer, even as I wondered. Garai wanted to play, to stalk, to terrorize. He loved to get physical, but mental torture was his specialty.
A guttering torch threw just enough light upon his elbow for me to see it twitch and shift. I dropped to the floor and rolled as the angry hiss of a throwing star passed overhead.
I wasted no time loading a bolt onto the crossbow. Leaping to my feet, I fired at him, then ducked behind a massive marble pillar, one of ten set about the room.
“Pity. I’ll have to kill you now,” Garai said from the opposite side of the room. Gods, I hadn’t even seen him get to his feet! “I did enjoy having you here. It was always so difficult to coax a good, healthy scream out of you though. Why wouldn’t you scream for me, Kymber?”
My name seemed to hang in the air. I bit my lip but didn’t respond. Was he having trouble seeing me in the near-dark with one eye? Was he trying to track me by voice?
Many hands pounded on the door. I gasped and turned to look, but it remained locked.
“King Garai, are you well?” a cultured male voice asked from the other side.
“Men with axes, Seromith. Why aren’t there men with axes taking down the door?” There was a satisfying hint of panic in Garai’s tone.
I loaded a bolt, spun away from the pillar, and fired. He grunted and ran at a crouch, ducking behind the column opposite me.
“You little bitch. You took a chunk out of my arm.” he said. “I’m going to let every single one of my men have a turn on you, then I’m going to cut you into tiny fucking pieces and feed you to the dogs.”
Well, well. That was literally the first time I’d ever heard fear in his voice.
I quickly took shelter behind a pew along the wall and waited for him to make the next move. Several minutes passed. The silence was deafening.
“Say something!” he bellowed.
Tracking me by voice then. I smiled.
Other than the throwing stars, I wasn’t sure what weapons he had on him. I was middling fair with a crossbow and very good with a dagger, but I couldn’t hit him if I couldn’t see him. This fight had to be close, face to face, if I was going to strike him down. I needed more light so I could get a sword in my hand.
I heard a whoosh and a hiss and, as if the gods had heard my thoughts, the room brightened a little. I peeked out from under the pew.
Garai had pulled a torch from the wall and fired up the unlit sconce on his side of the room.
“This is foolish, Kymber.” He lit the sconce near his throne, throwing more light against the darkness. “You’ll never get out of Pentorus alive. Surrender, and I’ll give you a merciful death.”
Another sconce roared to life. Damn it, he’d swung around to my side of the room. I rolled beneath the pew and watched his feet move toward me.
He had one eye and at least a few throwing stars. I had both eyes and a crossbow with a good supply of bolts. Who would have the advantage once all the sconces were burning?
Too close to call, I thought. If I could somehow wound him, the scales might tip in my favor. I slid one of Tavia’s daggers from its sheath. His left leg was his bad one. How would he manage if I severed the tendon at the back of his heel?
A couple more steps, just a few more. That’s it. I gripped the knife and prepared to strike.
Garai stopped barely two steps away and pivoted, moving in the opposite direction. I slid out from under the pew and peered over it, trying to plan my next move.
He slammed his sword into the bench’s curved back, not six inches from my nose. Wood flew everywhere. I screamed and ran, scrambling down the line of pews like a crab escaping to the ocean. Gaining my feet, I headed full speed for the marble pillar near the door.
He pursued me relentlessly during that frantic flight, crashing his sword into every pew I passed. It sounded like cannon fire. Oak chips arced into the air, hitting my face and sticking in my hair.
It was close, but I reached the pillar. He’d stopped on the other side, so close I could hear him breathing. I loaded the crossbow and fired, hoping to drive him back behind a distant pillar. I needed a few moments so I could think.
It worked to a degree, but only because he took his time to light two more sconces. I shot at him while he did it, missing every single time.
I pressed my spine to cold marble and gasped for air. Gods, I hated battling on defense. If he kept lighting torches before I got my sword off the wall, I’d be dead before this fight even got started. I peeked out around the pillar.
Garai stood on the other side of the column, so close I could count the stitches that had once closed the wound on his forehead. He had a dagger in one hand and a massive sword in the other. Smiling. “Got you now, bitch.”
Stay to the left, out of his reach, I thought as I ducked and fled for the pews on the other side of the room.
He was right behind me. I quickly laid the crossbow behind the nearest pillar, gripped the end pew, and pushed it forward with all of my strength.
The heavy bench caught him across the hips. I gritted my teeth and shoved harder, herding him toward a pillar, finally slamming him hard into the marble. He grunted and swore under his breath.
I’d pinned him, but he wouldn’t stay pinned for long.
I watched him pull a throwing star from his leather vest. I ducked and ran, but not fast enough. The eight-bladed star, moving fast and with deadly accuracy, bit into the flesh of my left shoulder. I scooted behind a pillar and reached back to yank it out. Throwing stars had never been my forte, but he’d just handed me another weapon. I’d use anything the bastard saw fit to give me.
Garai tossed the bench aside and roared. He then proceeded to throw a tantrum, smashing chairs and tables and pews and launching the debris at the far wall. The lovely oak and cherry furniture that graced his throne room was soon little more than kindling.
Go ahead and expend all your energy, jackass. On the other hand, he was destroying everything I could use as cover. No matter. He was out in the open. I’d just shoot him and put a stop to it.
I bent to pick up my crossbow, but it was gone.
I’d meant to place it gently on the floor, but I must’ve thrown it in my haste. The crossbow now lay in three pieces against the far wall.
I covered my face with both hands and shook my head. It was going to be a long morning.
57: MAGNUS
I woke up confused, stiff, and in excruciating pain.
Bars and stone and shackles whirled past as I raised my head. My left shoulder felt as though it were on fire. A fumbling exploration revealed something protruding from my back.
An arrow? I fingered the shaft and grimaced at the sharp stab that circled my ribcage. No, it was too thick to be an arrow. A bolt from a crossbow? If so, it was very short. I wanted to pull it out, but I couldn’t reach
it.
Memories came fast and hard. I’d been stuck in the window of the mews. Kymber and I had been working on a way to free me when the projectile, whatever it was, had slammed into my shoulder.
My world had quickly gone dark.
Now I lay shackled in a dungeon. That meant someone had caught us. Garai would be that someone, and it meant danger for Kymber.
“Kymber?” I pushed myself up and blinked. “Kymber, where are you?”
A naked woman lay in the cell next to me, her head partially buried under the bedding hay piled in the corner. I caught a breath and held it. Her gray-blue-green color meant she was dead.
Heedless of the pain, I scrambled across the floor to the bars separating our cells. “Don’t you dare be dead, Oryx. Speak to me.”
Her toes were splayed and pointed; she was well into the death rigors. My heart lodged in my throat. “Please, Kymber. Say something.”
Nothing. I took a closer look at the body.
Her legs were longer and thinner than Kymber’s. I couldn’t see much of her hair, but it appeared to have a reddish cast to it. This woman’s buttocks were smaller. Overall, she was less muscular, bonier.
I narrowed my eyes. The dead woman wasn’t Kymber.
If it wasn’t Kymber, who was it? Where was my warrior?
I searched my surroundings but saw nothing. On a whim, I ran my hand over the collar of my jerkin. The shoe nail was still there. I turned the bottom of my boot over.
That shoe nail was gone.
Gone, though the hole remained.
The scenario was so bizarre, I was unable to take the next logical steps in my mind. The dead woman was dead because . . .? Who was she?
It didn’t matter. All I knew for sure was that Kymber was missing.
Why didn’t she use her own shoe nail?
A sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Thank the gods she’d had us hide the nails. I pulled the other nail from my collar and went to work on the shackles. Once free, I made short work of the lock on the door.
I needed a weapon, but there wouldn’t be anything down here I could use. Yet I couldn’t go charging through Garai’s castle without one.
I searched the dungeon and found an old storage closet. A cracked shield stood just inside the door, resting against the wall.
Good enough. I broke a broom handle over my knee to use as a cudgel and headed down the dark hallway with my makeshift battle gear.
58: KYMBER
Garai didn’t attend T’hath Academy, but he knew all the tricks of the trade. For every move I made, he had a damned good countermove. Despite his limp, the bastard was fast, moving around the room like a ghost.
I pressed against the marble pillar and stared at Silverlight, gleaming on the wall not fifteen feet away. I needed a weapon to confront Garai, but I couldn’t get to either of my swords without putting myself at risk.
I yearned for a miracle, but I wasn’t going to get one. It didn’t matter that I’d kept him from unlocking the door. His soldiers had been dismantling it with axes for the last half hour. They’d be in the room with us soon enough.
Exhausted and hurting, completely out of ideas, I was not yet out of hope. I didn’t understand why it still burned within me, but that spark was the only thing keeping me from surrendering to him.
“Are you going to make me chase you around the room all day, Kymber?” He began to move toward the pillar that hid me, pulling that foot along. It sounded like he was dragging a dead body behind him.
Those ominous footfalls couldn’t hide the fact that he was gasping. If I was worn out from our battle, Garai was doubly so. He was older, injured, and sicker than he let on.
And he was up to something.
Crouching as low as I could, I pulled a dagger and braced myself. Hiss, snap, crack. The end of a whip curled four or five times around the marble column above me. Had I been upright, it would have wrapped around my throat.
I swung the dagger and sawed through the thick leather whip as fast as I could. Snatching up the piece I’d severed, I ran for the safety of the pews on the left side.
“Damn you, cunt! That whip was my father’s. You’re dead!” What remained of the whip hit the wall above me and fell behind the bench. I snatched it up and examined it. There wasn’t much thong left, but the handle had a solid metal core. I hunkered low to the floor, all my senses on alert.
He stalked me on the outside, slowly, his foot dragging more than usual. Was he making more noise to hide the fact that he was gasping? I cut the rest of the thong from the whip handle and waited.
He hesitated on the other side of the bench, giving me a few precious seconds to react. Gripping the whip handle in my right hand, I swung at his legs, connecting solidly with his kneecaps.
He screamed, hoarse and shrill, then staggered and fell to his knees. There was no time to waste. I scrambled over the benches and struck him a hard blow across the back of the head. He listed, but he didn’t collapse. I was about to hit him again when he struck like a snake, snatching the handle from me and pitching it aside.
The sound of our labored breathing filled the room. I stared, mesmerized by the sight of him. I hadn’t ever seen him on his knees.
His murderous expression turned my blood to ice. I was too close, well within his reach no matter what weapon he held. I pulled a dagger, but I couldn’t make myself use it. All I could do was stare into his stormy eyes, a mouse caught in a predator’s gaze. Even on his knees, Garai was dark and strong and competent in ways I was not.
“You give up too easily,” Magnus had said. Yes and no. Maybe and obviously. I didn’t want to die, but I was too fucking tired to think about my next move. It was only a matter of time before the rest of my blood soaked into these stone floors.
The soldiers broke a hole through the throne room door just as I completed that last thought. Their triumphant shouts only partially shook me from my stupor.
Garai struggled to his feet, his eyes swirling with hues of gray and green, and extended an open hand. “You’ve played your little game with me, but it’s over now. You’ve lost. Hand me the dagger, and I’ll give you a merciful death.”
“Liar,” I snarled. “There’s not a merciful bone in your body.”
“You know me too well, sweet.” A vicious smile spread across his face. He stepped to my right side. My weaker side, still out of my range.
Once he moved, I saw it, like the clouds parting to reveal the sun. The only chance I had left to me.
I tossed the dagger, catching it by the point, and threw it at his head. I nearly hit him too, but it skimmed through his wispy hair when he ducked to one side.
I whirled before the blade hit the floor and headed for the swords on the wall, already reviewing what I needed to do. Praying I wasn’t shaking too badly to do it.
My feet churned to an ancient rhythm in my head, faster, faster, faster, until the throne loomed large before me.
I leapt into the air, my right leg parallel to the ground, and aimed my foot at the crest rail, right where the Pentorian coat of arms was carved into the wood. Momentum and determination pulled me forward. I hit the crest dead center with my boot and every bit of my body weight.
The throne tipped, wobbled and resettled, then tipped toward the wall again. Back and back and back, until it hit and stuck. The toe of my left boot dug into the throne’s velvet-cushioned back as I launched myself upward.
For a moment, I was flying, flying with nothing but hope for wings. I focused on the wall above me and reached, stretching my right arm until sharp pains shot down to my shoulder, trusting I wouldn’t miss, because Garai was right behind me, ready to shove his blade into my back if I did.
Which sword to finish the job? Bloodreign was too high on the wall and too heavy. Not my sword.
Silverlight sang me a love song, and I wanted so badly to take her up, but she was an unknown. I didn’t remember her weight, her grip, or how it felt to swing her.
So I made a choice as I
sailed, allowing my eyes to settle on salvation. She didn’t sing as sweetly as Silverlight, but she hadn’t yet broken a promise. I accepted what she offered.
I hit the wall with my knees and stuck for a moment, just long enough to grasp Promise in my fully open right hand. I pulled hard; the hooks that bound her there fell away.
Her grip, familiar. Her weight, sure and solid. I pivoted my upper body as I fell, twisting to face forward, finally securing my feet upon the velvet cushion beneath me.
Garai was there. Oh yes, he was right there with hatred burning in his eyes and his sword angled over his shoulder. Fear was a living thing inside me, but it was the kind of fear that demanded action. I met his gaze and angled the tip of my sword to greet him.
He was moving too fast to stop himself. I watched with relief as he impaled himself upon my blade. It slid in beneath his breastbone, eager for blood. I twisted it twice for good measure.
“No. Noo!” Eyes bulging, Garai screamed. His shriek soared into the rafters and echoed off the walls.
I held his horrified gaze and absorbed the moment. I’d done it. I’d faced him as an equal and won. He wouldn’t recover from this wound.
He lifted his sword to strike at me, but he seemed to lose all his strength at once. His blade slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor. I savored the look on his pale gray face: mouth slack, lips blue, eyes moist and bulging.
“This was not a game to me. It was never a game. The decision to come for Silverlight wasn’t made on a whim.” He grunted and gave a sharp squeal when I angled Promise upward, hooking him like a fish. “She belongs to me, a gift from my father. Killing you is a bonus.”
He tried to reply but blood poured past his lips in a torrent. My long nightmare was over. I had no doubt his soldiers would kill me once they broke through, but their king would already be dead.
“How about that? All those years you thought I was the weak one.” I backed him off the dais toward the wall. “Now you can die on the end of my sword, knowing I wasn’t. You didn’t break me. I survived you.”
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