“Let’s go,” Samael whispered.
We jogged through the winding rows of books as, on the floor below, shelves crashed and books toppled. The heavy thuds of boots running up the stairs followed the crashes.
They were closing in on us.
I mentally urged Samael to move faster but didn’t dare risk speaking again. When Samael rounded a corner, he sprinted to the bookcase set against the far wall.
His fingers skimmed the books before settling on a red, leather bound one. When he pulled the tome toward him, a muted click sounded and the shelf swung a few inches open.
Samael grasped the corner of the shelf and pulled it toward him. Stepping back, he waved the rest of us into the tunnel beyond.
I waited for the others to rush inside before stopping beside Samael. “You first,” I told him.
He grinned at me. “Still don’t trust me, old friend?”
“About as much as I trust Veni.”
Samael chuckled but entered the passage ahead of me. Keeping my hand on the hidden door, it didn’t make a sound as I pulled it closed behind me. The door was nearly shut when, ten feet to my right, shelves toppled.
I didn’t see any soldiers before the door closed, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t seen the shelf shutting.
“Do the guards know about this tunnel?” I asked Samael as we ran down the tunnel with Ellery’s light leading the way.
“Not unless they saw you entering it,” he replied. “And even then, it would take time for them to figure out how to open it.”
“If they saw you, then they’ll know you’re free,” Callan panted as we rounded a bend.
“They didn’t see me,” I said. “They might have seen the door closing, but they didn’t see me.”
“Let’s hope not,” Samael said.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Tucker
Sparks flew as my sword clashed with my combatant’s. Steel screeched as her blade slid down mine toward the hilt.
I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the chaos surrounding me as rain pelted the earth and tornadoes tore apart the land. Through it all, the screams of the dying and maimed penetrated the cacophony of elements.
Gargoyles swooped overhead before descending out of the sky like eagles after mice. They lifted their captured soldiers high before releasing them on their brethren below.
I was still wary of those creatures, but they were definitely a big help. Whether that would remain the same when this ended, I didn’t know, but we could only battle one enemy at a time.
More cannons boomed, but this time they’d aimed all the weapons at the sky. Some of the wind-battered projectiles were sucked out of the air by tornadoes and spat out again. The others, trapped in the maelstrom, veered off course, but one of them crashed into a gargoyle’s back.
The impact propelled the creature forward. Its wings flew out, but they couldn’t stop the cannonball’s momentum as it knocked the gargoyle from the sky.
The other creatures let out a cry so full of distress that I was certain the blast killed the gargoyle. That awful sound tugged at my heart, and the need to get to the creature and save it overwhelmed me… but could I get to it?
Spinning my sword, I blocked the guard’s next blow, lifted my foot, and drove it straight into the mail covering her stomach. The kick did little more than knock the woman back a few steps, but it bought me enough time to readjust my sword and swing it outward to slice her throat.
Though she wore a helmet, it didn’t protect her. I knew exactly where the vulnerable spot was on these assholes. As a member of Leo’s army during the Ghoul War, I’d once worn a suit of armor very similar to this one.
The woman released her sword to claw at her neck as blood spurted, but she couldn’t do anything to stop its flow. Just as there was nothing she could do to block my next blow, which severed her head from her shoulders.
More guards stood behind her, but they were all occupied with keeping the rush of amsirah still pouring from the woods at bay. It seemed as if every able-bodied amsirah in the realm had arrived for this battle, and they weren’t about to lose, even if the guards had better weapons.
The duke’s fighters had better weapons and armor, but we now outnumbered them, and rage and desperation fueled the amsirah. They would take these soldiers down and tear them apart with their bare hands if necessary.
