AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The necromancer.”
I shook my head slowly. “Who?”
The crossbowman narrowed his eyes. I ducked as a crossbow bolt whirred over my head. It struck a skull behind me and knocked it clattering onto the floor.
Before he could reload, I fled into the catacombs. I sprinted down a long narrow tunnel, the light dimming, until I slammed against a rattling gate. Blindly, I groped in the darkness. I could go either left or right.
A hand clamped on my wrist and dragged me closer to the wall.
“It’s me.” Wendel remained cloaked by Amarant’s shadows.
“Stealth won’t work,” I said, talking fast. “Your dagger is useless.”
“Useless? It’s still sharp.”
“They have pyromechanics. Two of them.”
“And?”
I growled. “Would youstopbeing so cocky? You can’t hide in the shadows forever. They don’t even have to find us, Wendel. You do realize that? They can burn all the oxygen and smother us into surrendering.”
“Then let’s not waste oxygen by talking.”
Flames hissed down the tunnel as the salamanders swept the catacombs with fire. Silhouetted against the burning, the crossbowman stalked nearer. He had abandoned his lantern, but soon his targets would be bright enough.
“Where is the other exit?” I asked. “The one to the outside of the cathedral?”
“We passed it already,” Wendel said.
“Fuck. Can you revive some skeletons?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He laughed grimly. “You have no idea how long it would take to sort these bones.”
“Take out the crossbowman. I can distract him while you get closer.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Wendel vanished into the darkness.
I flattened myself against the wall. My fingers clamped around Chun Yi’s hilt. Smoke tickled my throat. I swallowed back a cough. The crossbowman edged nearer and entered the junction of the tunnels.
The muscles in my legs tightened before I lunged into an attack.
There wasn’t enough time to draw my sword more than halfway. I bashed my pommel into his crossbow and knocked it askew, then kicked him in the knee and knocked him back. He found his footing and raised his bow. He still had a bolt loaded. For an eternity of an instant, we stared into each other’s eyes.
Wendel stepped from the shadows.
He unceremoniously slit his enemy’s throat.
Blood spurted from the crossbowman’s severed artery. He fell to his knees and clutched his neck like he hoped to stop his life from pooling in the dirt beneath him.
Wendel crouched beside the dying man, a stance that mimicked concern, though I knew he was waiting. His eyes couldn’t be any colder. When the crossbowman finally collapsed, Wendel touched his neck.
“Is he dead?” I asked.
