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Jav danced back, out of reach. The statue was still partially intact in his right hand, the figure’s upper body gone, the jagged edges of what remained now making it an even more dangerous weapon.
“You,” Jav spat. “This is all your fault.”
“No, this is my father’s fault for plowing that fool woman. But you tell him that.” Alekur’s grin was brutal, but bitter. “Iseris could have been more discreet. And my father should have been, too, for that matter.”
Iseris flinched, hovering behind Jav. Now, though, Jav hesitated. Should they try to make a run for it? Tie him up? Knock him unconscious? Kill him?
Kill the prince he supposedly served? He’d been ready to turn his back on a lot of things in the name of justice and service to Nefrana. After all, killing Alekur, no matter how evil the man was, was still killing and no more just than killing Iseris.
Well, perhaps a little more just.
“You didn’t really think I’d trust you to do this,” Alekur jeered into the silence opened by Jav’s hesitation. “I suppose I had my hopes. I waited. I wasn’t going to barge in on you lovebirds. But I’m also not an idiot.” He refused to look at Iseris.
“You’re an idiot if you think this is the right thing to do,” Jav replied. He sounded a lot more confident than he felt.
Alekur let out a bark of laughter that probably would have been a true chuckle if he weren’t in excruciating pain. “Always entertaining, knight. I’m really not disappointed, but I do think it’s high time to yell for my?—”
The prince’s voice rose as he spoke, a crescendo toward his call for help, but Jav didn’t let him get that far. He stepped closer and swung. Alekur tried to raise his arms to block, but he wasn’t fast enough.
The statue collided with the prince’s jaw, shattering further now, the jagged pieces slicing flesh, adding insult to the injury of the blunt impact.
Jav let go now, let it all go—his improvised weapon, his temple, his old life, his service. But not what was in his heart. He didn’t need statues to hold on to that. The remnants of this one clattered to the stones.
He took off at a run out of the room, hoping that brutal blow would have bought them enough time. He didn’t want to outright kill the prince, much as he deserved it. If they took the secret passage, hopefully a few moments were all they’d need.
“Lead the way,” he barked at Iseris over his shoulder.
She ran up ahead of him, and not in a dainty way either. There were things he didn’t know about her, after all.
More than a few of them. How wrong he had been. He’d thought the stone would prove her innocence, but, instead, he’d just been the last one to see the light. Silly.
Iseris had reached a painting in a shallow alcove and was reaching for it when she caught her breath. His eyes darted ahead, down the hallway—there. The two armed men Alekur had been trying to summon. They were either lazy as hell, or they hadn’t heard but were now headed their way on regular patrol.
And Jav had no weapon. Except the wardrobe door.
He gripped it hard on the handle, bracing it along his forearm with his other arm, and ran full tilt. He had to hit them before they’d drawn their blades. Steel rang, but not fast enough. The shield rammed into the first he’d been aiming for, knocking both him and his target off their feet.
Jav rolled just fast enough to block a double-handed swing from the other man with his shield. That injury would have been enough to cut him in half, or leave him unable to walk, but the wardrobe door took the brunt of the assault, cracking and splintering at the point of impact, then slamming into his arm and guts with more than enough force to cause damage.
The air flew from his lungs, even as he forced himself to roll away, and to keep rolling.
He scrambled to a crouch, groped for his dagger, and threw it in the man’s direction with too much haste.
But he got lucky. It stabbed into the man’s thigh, sending him staggering.
“C’mon!” Iseris was helping him to his feet. Behind her, the wall gaped open, a black passage where the painting had been.
“Stop!” yelled the second of Alekur’s men. “You can’t—wait!”
“Go!” she commanded. “I’ll shut the door.”
He obeyed and clambered awkwardly down the dark passageway, ribs and guts aching, his heart ready to explode in his chest.
Pure darkness enveloped him as she closed the door. A bar or a lock of some kind slid home. He tried to hurry, but stumbled, then slid.
“There are stairs coming up,” she called.
“I found them, I think,” he grumbled as he finally found purchase on a jagged stone and slowed his stumbling.
