CRACK.
His head hits the corner of the altar. Glances off, a sticky red patch clinging behind.
He drops. Motionless.
“No,” I whisper. Hands at my mouth. I only wanted him back, away, away from me—I didn’t mean to?—
“King!”
I whirl. It’s Kai, catapulting across the church to where Kingston has Moroslav pinned. Right against the iconostasis.
“No!” I cry, and try to run forward, but someone holds me back. I scream, but?—
“Gwenna.” Just Lanz, a slash on his cheek and pain on his face. I breathe out, weak with relief.
Kingston’s blade shrieks against Moroslav’s, sheer force trying to overpower him now, their wrists twisted together. His face is half-red now, his jaw clenched, arm trembling?—
Moroslav rockets forward, slamming his head into Kingston’s.
And Kingston falls.
FORTY-ONE
KINGSTON
The blow catchesme across the temple. I'm down, down hard, and my vision swims for half a second, everything tilting.
But I kept my sword in my hand.
I scramble to stand, but something rams into my shoulder—Moroslav, kicking, his sword raised.
Panic lances through me. Real panic. He was flagging, getting sloppy, but?—
"King!”
Kai. I hear him a split second before I see him, his blade crashing into Moroslav's with enough force to drive him back three stumbling steps.
It’s all the opening I need. I shake my head, tighten my grip, and push to my feet. The blood from my eyebrow is still streaming, but I can see well enough.
Moroslav tries to recover, but now it's two of us. Kai presses high, forcing Moroslav's blade up, and I come in low, a cut at his outside leg that pushes him right against the icon wall.
“Pull him?—”
“I got it!” Kai binds his blade, controlling it, and I move. I leap to advance, knock Moroslav's sword wide with a sharp beat, and put my point to his throat.
“I’ll kill you,” I say, through gritted teeth. “You sick bastard. I’ll kill you. I’ll?—”
My arm tenses to thrust, but something restrains me.
Kai.
“Don’t,” he says.
“Let me go,” I bark, trying to shrug my brother off. “He has to die.”
“I saiddon’t,” Kai practically snarls. He wrenches me off of Moroslav, whipping his blade to replace mine at his throat, and stares across at me.
“You’re better than that, King.”
