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He yelped and dropped his torch, the flames smacking against the stone floor. The shadows shifted rapidly.
Sorasa had him in a second, seizing him by the neck of his tunic to throw him backward. He landed flat on his spine, choking out a breath. With a swift kick to the throat, Sorasa made sure he never tasted air again.
Sigil whooped in triumph and rattled her own bars, her chain singing.
The keys sang above it all, rattling on their ring. But now, they spun on Sorasa’s finger. She leered as she walked, her focus on the knight. Torchlight wavered on her face, the flames painting her in rippling shadows. For a moment, she seemed more beast than mortal, a giant spider moving through the darkness. Her lips parted, showing her teeth in a terrible smile.
“Snake,” the knight snarled, charging at her with all his strength.
But Sorasa sidestepped him neatly, her back to the cells. With a quick sweep of her good arm, she tossed the keys behind her.
They slid across the floor, hissing through the dust and straw to land in front of Sigil’s cell.
“Keep him busy,” Sigil crowed, scrabbling through the bars for the ring.
“Take your time,” Sorasa hissed back.
One-handed and unarmed, the assassin twisted in circles around the knight of the Lionguard. He was too big to fight in the narrow corridor, the sweeps of his sword catching cell bars instead of Sorasa Sarn.
Dom struggled against his bindings to no avail. His ankles and wrists ached, his neck rubbed raw, but none of it mattered. He followed Sorasa’s arcing path with wide, unblinking eyes. His breath came in short gasps, and he willed the knight to stumble, to leave some opening in his guard.
It’s all she needs, he knew.One wrong step. One second lost.
A lock clicked, a cell door whined on ancient hinges, and Sigil of the Temurijon stepped out into the passage. All six menacing feet of her. Her unbridled laughter echoed off the stone.
Only then did the knight falter, stepping backward, his sword pointed out in defense. Not attack.
“THE PRISONERS HAVE ESCAPED!” he boomed, shouting for anyone that would listen.
Anyone that might save him.
With a few lunging steps, Sigil took Sorasa’s side, pressing the keys into her good hand.
“Knew you were fine,” the bounty hunter grunted, her wrists still bound. It didn’t seem to bother her as she squared off to the surviving knight.
“Of course, Sigil,” Sorasa said over her shoulder, turning away to let them duel.
Her eyes shifted in the torchlight, finding Dom. The copper flames burned again, beacons through the darkness.
He half expected her to take her time, to bother him in her usual way. To his relief, she made quick work of the lock in his cell door.
In the passage, Sigil stalked toward the knight. “Are you going to run, Brave Champion of the Lionguard?”
He snarled beneath his helmet. “Never.”
“Then I’m sorry to kill you,” she answered, laughing again. “Although, I suppose I have to kill you either way. Maintain the element of surprise and all that. You understand, I’m sure.”
Still grinning, she charged into the knight with all the force of a raging bull.
In the cell, Sorasa studied Dom’s chains as he studied her face. The last three weeks were written all over her body. Dark shadows circled her eyes, her cheekbones sharp, her face more hollow than he remembered. Her fingers were bruised and burned, a few nails missing. Old blood and ash striped her leathers, black and dark reds. Her clothes tore at the seams, tattooed skin poking out beneath. But underneath the blood and bruises, she was still Sorasa Sarn. Ruthless, fearless. And stubborn as a kicking mule.
In spite of himself, Dom could not help but smile, a grin spreading over his face.
She raised her chin to him, her heartbeat a drum in his ears. Again, she spun the ring of keys.
“Elder,” she said.
“Amhara,” he answered.
