Page 98 of His Noble Ruin

“Spear up, Nevin!” Keane ordered.

The boy jumped and pointed his spear at Graham’s back again.

I gripped the knife tighter. “Let him go or one of you dies.”

“Mind if I choose which one?” asked Keane.

“I’ve already decided.” I lifted my knife and prepared my aim.

“Me?” Keane pointed at his hairy chest. “Nah, I don’t buy it. If that was the case, you wouldn’t’ve aimed at my feet the first time.”

A regretful thought drifted through my mind.I should’ve killed him.

No. I couldn’t.No one dies.

And yet. If it saved Graham, maybe I could. I drew my arm back and imagined a wooden target in place of the man’s chest. But the moment before I sent the knife flying, I made the mistake of glancing at Graham. He looked up with pleading eyes and shook his head. His mouth moved soundlessly, begging me not to do it.

I sighed and let my knife fall.

“Ha!” cried the boy named Nevin. “We scared ’er good.”

“Time to hop down from that rock, blondie,” said Keane. “You lost.”

They had me surrounded. Keane signaled at two men. They grabbed my arms and held them tight behind my back.

“Don’t hurt her!” said Graham.

Keane laughed and rolled his eyes. “Sir. Madam,” he said, switching to a pretentious nobleman’s accent. “I’d be greatly obliged if you would deign to join us at our humble abode.”

The men forced us uphill toward the mountain, their spears leaving no room for resistance. The sunlight had nearly faded, leaving only a pink glow in the sky behind the black peak.

Each time Graham glanced back at me, a spear dug into his back to prod him forward.

“Almost there,” said Keane.

I searched the landscape on each side. There were no signs of houses, a village, or anything man-made. I was beginning to believe they’d hiked us up here just to drop us off a cliff for their amusement. They’d probably killed before. They were on this island for a reason, after all.

We headed straight for the side of the mountain. I squinted, making out a dark shape in the dim light. Straight ahead, black on black in the mountainside, was a wide crevice.

“You live incaves?” Graham mumbled before they forced him through the opening.

They shoved me through next, scraping my shoulder against the jagged rock. The ground angled downhill, and goosebumps sprung up on my body as the temperature dropped several degrees. My view filled with black. I stepped blindly through the dark, the pressure from the spear never letting up.

Eventually, the flicker of fire broke through up ahead and the tunnel expanded into a wide cavern. Stalactites as sharp as their spears covered the ceiling. Rustic sconces in the wall shone firelight on sheets of grass lining the black floor. A pile of wrinkled mushrooms littered one corner.

Even with the nearby fires, I shivered in my wet clothing. The other islands offered at least some degree of civilization, but not this bleak place. It reminded me of prison, only colder.

The men shoved Graham to the floor. When the hands holding my wrists loosened, I wrenched out of their grip and dashed forward, reaching for the spear of the man in front of me. But just as my hands touched his weapon, a sharp point pressed against my ribs. I gasped and let go.

Keane stepped forward. “Not very polite for a waller, are ya?”

I backed away from the spear and dropped to the ground beside Graham, rubbing my side. I looked around, trying to see how many there were. I counted twelve.

Keane leveled his glare with mine. “Time to tell us what a couple of Cambrian snobs are doin’ on our island.”

I stared back. I had no intention of telling him anything.

“We ain’t wallers,” said Graham.

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