Without waiting for a reply, I tossed my head and turned on my heel. As I walked away to stunned silence, Madame Bracken croaked out a victorious; “Huzzah!”
And by the ensuing thud and yelp, I suspected she’d finally knocked the soldier’s boots off the table in a fit of wicked delight.
I didn’t turn to confirm as I shut the door behind me, but once it clicked shut I rested my head on the cool, varnished wood and caught my breath.
You’re an innkeeper.
I heard you loud and clear.
My mind flicked back and forth over an inner catalogue of the look he’d given me in that moment. Assessing, inquisitive, and too gods-damned bright. I had to remind myself to breathe. One long breath out to smother my rising Flame; one quick breath in to soothe it. When I turned, Sorcha was watching me from behind the bar, wringing her bloodied hands before her. I tried for a reassuring smile as I crossed the room, but if anything her eyes grew wider, brows shooting up. I paused mid-step, confused by her reaction – until she darted forth, mouth open on a wordless scream.
And I realised far too late that I had not heard the door open behind me.
“You venomous fuckingcunt.”
I spun just as Fischer barrelled into me, thick fingers clutching at the sleeve of my bodice, the momentum of his wrath driving me back until I stumbled over my own feet and fell against the bar. Fischer hauled me upright by the sleeve, only to slam me back against the wood, my teeth rattling in my skull for just a moment before his hand closed around my throat. He loomed over me, blood and spittle flying from his mouth as he seethed, and I was too shocked to do anything but stare up at him, scrabbling at the hand pressed to my windpipe and gasping for breath, my Flame flailing within me as he starved it of oxygen.
“Roz!” Sorcha screamed behind me. I felt the entryway plank shudder beneath me, but she couldn’t get it open with both my weight and Fischer’s holding it down. “Get off her!”
The soldier ignored her, his grasp tightening until spots popped in the edges of my vision. All I could see was his furious, purpling face, the blood from his split cheek rolling down over his lips, filling the gaps in his teeth and turning his grimace bright red.
“Youneedme, you meddling bitch. You and your pathetic little village.” His hand jerked viciously, my head bobbing back as I choked under the increased pressure. “You have no fuckingidea what you’re in for. You think that shower of useless bastards are going to keep the Serpent from slithering into your midst?”
The room tilted and blurred. Only Sorcha’s increasingly panicked screams kept me from giving in to the tug of the darkness that seeped into the edges of my vision. Someone who sounded an awful lot like Madame Bracken was shouting obscenities, and I was vaguely aware of a dull thudding all around us, like tiny canon fire crashing into the bar again and again until finally Fischer flinched back as something small and red bounced off his skull with athwack. He hissed in pain, his grip on me loosening just enough for my lungs to contract in agony as a whoosh of air hooked at my wilting Flame, dragged it hot and hissing up my throat where it flared for just one moment beneath his palm. Fischer bellowed like a wounded beast and dropped me at once, staggering back with his blistering hand cradled in his armpit. I slid to my knees, choking on my own raw breath.
I had a brief glimpse of Madame Bracken standing a few feet away with a basket of apples from the dining hall tucked into her side, one frail arm still cocked back with another apple clutched in her gnarled fingers. Sorcha ducked beneath the bar and dropped to my side, and I tried frantically to shove her behind me even as I gasped for air and scrambled internally to reel my Flame in. It fought me, rearing back to take another fiery lunge at the deputy.
“What the fuck?” Fischer was shrieking, his eyes popping madly. “She fucking burned my–”
But before he could spit out the accusation, a huge figure loomed up behind him, wrenched him aside and sent him careening facefirst into the opposite wall. Sorcha screamed again, and I shot my arms out, instinctively shielding her – but the two men were wholly focused on their own struggle. Fischer’s face was pressed tight against the wall while the Captain twisted his arm behind his back and snarled low, overlapping threats in his ear. His accent thickened in his rage, but I could just about pick out the wordstouch her again, and something that sounded likeshove them down your worthless throat.
“D’you fucking hear me?”
He yanked Fischer back and shoved him into the wall once more, something crunching sickeningly with the renewed force. The Kingsmen had rushed from the dining hall to crowd around the spectacle and a few of them now staggered forth uncertainly at Fischer’s howl of pain.
“I saiddo you hear me?”
The Captain wrenched Fischer’s arm so far behind his back that his shoulder lifted from the wall, and he screamed a high and ragged scream.
One of the soldiers took a step forward. “He hears you, Cap, come on –”
“Leave it,” Brennan snapped, with such unprecedented venom that the soldier fell back at once, his mouth falling shut.
Fisher mumbled something into the wall, and the Captain took hold of his greasy mop of hair and tugged hard, snapping his head back.
“I fucking hear you,” Fischer panted. “I hear you!”
I could have sworn the Captain’s knuckles tightened around his deputy’s arm like he debated twisting it even further, but after a moment he shoved away and sent Fischer knocking into the wall once more for good measure. His eyes were blazing as they swept the room and landed, for just a moment, on me. I stared back at him from where I sat, in a heap on the floor by the bar, one arm thrown in front of Sorcha and my free hand clapped tight over my chest to ease my struggling Flame.
“You alright?” He said tightly.
I nodded, unsure if my voice would make it past my crushed and aching windpipe. His stare hardened, and he hovered there for a split second as though debating saying more. Then he turned to his men and strode into their midst, calling; “Miss Rosaleen needs seeing to. Who’s our healer on duty?”
The moment his back was turned, I twisted to face Sorcha. She was was white as a sheet, and her eyes stared past me.
“Areyoualright?”
Every word was hoarse and brittle, but I knew she heard me.She nodded distantly, still fixed behind me at where Fischer was effing and blinding from his own heap on the floor. I spared him a glance; he was struggling to his knees now, wincing as he put his weight on his angry, blistered hand and fell forward once more.Fuck, his fucking hand – I’d nearly forgotten. I turned to Sorcha, swearing again under my breath.
