I ducked back inside when an arrow struck the window frame just above my head, close enough to flutter my hair. Too close.
I aimed, shot, and hit a bandit in the thigh.
He screamed in fury, turned his gaze on the carriage, and started forward.
I swore and reloaded, and I could admit my hands were shaking. A good thief would already be running.
He slammed his weapon against the side of the carriage. And when it held, he kicked through the side shutters and looked in. He glanced at me. “Where?” he said, in Vhranian-accented Carethian.
“I don’t know what you want.”
He growled, looked around the inside of the carriage, and began to climb in.
I preferred to be where he was not, so I shoved crossbow bolts into my tunic and grabbed Wren’s knife. I made my way across the angled floor to the front of the carriage and jumped down onto the dry, cracked ground below. I moved around to the other side of the carriage, crouching down behind the wheel.
I could hear him moving around inside, and if he was disappointed I was gone, he didn’t bother to chase me. Instead, he tossed weapons and cushions around like he was searching through them for something. Not just a bandit—but a thief.
There were footsteps to my left, and another bandit circled the carriage. He saw me, and his eyes widened with victory. He held a windblade—the metal was nicked and tarnished, but it would do damage enough.
No point in waiting for him to reach me. I ran, nearly stepping into the path of another bandit who fought with Galen. I sidestepped and circled to the other side of the carriage. There was nowhere else to hide out here, and I wasn’t confident about my chances of fighting hand to hand with a man who was a good foot taller than me and held twice as many blades. I was atleast faster, so I made it around the corner before he did, ensured the bolt was steady in the crossbow, and loosed it the second he came around the corner. It struck him in the upper arm—but not the one that held the blade. He bared his teeth against the pain but closed the distance between us. A bolt would probably bounce off his armor at this range, but he might not know that I knew that.
“Stop!” I said, and held it out as if I meant to fire.
He swatted it away, but Wren’s blade was already in my other hand and he’d dropped his defenses. I sliced Wren’s blade along his belly. Another grunt and a scream, and he lunged for me. But I darted beneath his arm, then turned to face him. I used the crossbow like a club, and it struck his face with a resoundingcrack, and the impact sent a wave of pain up my arm. He wobbled, then fell. I tossed the shards of the crossbow away and turned back to the fight.
Everyone else was fighting bandits on foot now. On the other side of the fight, a lone bandit flicked his fingers. I saw the glint of metal in sunlight as it hurtled toward Nik.
“Nik!” I called out. “Down!”
He dropped as the blade flew over his head and into the chest of a second bandit, who’d already raised his blade to strike. He looked down at the blade, and his eyes rolled back. He hit the ground.
Nik rose, glanced back at me, and smiled.
But the second blade was already moving, and there’d be no avoiding it.
I didn’t know what to do, how else to help, how to stop him from being killed. I did the only thing I could think to do. I cried out: “Luna!”
Like a miracle, she appeared. Then her arms were aroundNik, and they both disappeared as the assassin’s sword plunged into the space where they’d been standing.
“Your Highness!” Galen shouted, and darted forward.
“Your Highness,” I repeated lamely, in my panic hearing the words but not quite understanding them.
Luna and Nik reappeared several strides away, shock and confusion clear in his face. She held him behind her, body glowing brightly, as Galen and Wren finished off the last of the bandits who’d been willing to fight now that a visible Anima had entered the fray. The others probably figured they hadn’t been paid to fight against Anima. They scooped up their injured brethren, ran for their horses, and took off.
Galen ran over to Nik and looked him over. “You’re all right?”
“I’m fine, somehow.” Still dazed, he stared at Luna.
We all stood there for a moment, chests heaving and hearts racing. And I remembered the words Galen had spoken, and tried to understand them.
“He called you ‘Your Highness,’ ” I said.
“What?” Nik asked.
“Galen. He called you ‘Your Highness.’ ” I looked between them, and I saw the truth in his face. Then he nodded at Galen.
Galen resheathed his sword. “May I introduce Cassander Ashketh Nikalos Lys’Careth. The Prince of the Western Gate.”
