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He hesitated, reminding me he was human, the instant before I beheaded him.
The momentum from my swing brought my blade clanging against the wall. Blood splattered me in the face. The salamander’s corpse toppled at my feet, the flamethrower still sputtering in his hands.
Chun Yi burst into flames. Stone-cold fire crackled over the steel.
Gasping, I dragged my sleeve over my face to wipe away the gore. Blood magic thumped inside my bones. I tilted the blade sideways, my eyes narrowed, then thrust it into the scabbard. When I drew my sword halfway, the steel burst into flames again. I let it fall back and snuffed the fire inside the scabbard.
Should I be amazed or afraid?
“Ardis!”
Wendel ran from the darkness and embraced me. I closed my eyes and clung to him. Touching him unlocked a rush of emotion.
“You beheaded him,” he said. I wasn’t sure if he was impressed, disgusted, or both.
He backed away from the widening puddle of blood. Was Chun Yi still thirsty? My hand twitched to my sword before I stopped myself. What the hell was wrong with me?
I grimaced. “I want to get out of here.”
Together, we strode down the tunnel until we encountered the charred corpse of the crossbowman. Had Wendel relinquished control of his necromancy? Or had his magic failed when flames burned the body?
I grimaced, not sure I wanted to know.
“Flamethrowers,” Wendel said. “I never thought they would be so desperate.”
The first salamander lay nearby, the crossbow bolt protruding from his eye socket. Wendel knelt beside the salamander and wrenched the bolt out of the gas mask, then peeled away the gas mask itself.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He gave me a sliver of a smile. “I always kill first and ask questions later.”
He touched the corpse’s skin and closed his eyes. The undead man struggled to sit upright with the naphtha tank on his back.
“Stay down,” Wendel said. “Answer carefully. How many assassins did the Grandmaster send to hunt me down?”
The Grandmaster. My stomach plummeted. My father.
“Nine of us, sir,” said the undead man.
Sir.I swallowed down a sour taste. Was that some echo of the man’s politeness?
“Nine?” Wendel asked. “You were the last?”
“No, sir. There are more of us.”
The undead man stared sightlessly, waiting for a command. His face was still sweaty and red, not too far from alive yet.
Wendel clenched his jaw. “Is the Grandmaster coming?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
Grimacing, Wendel glanced at me. “The Order anticipated that I would question their assassins. Each of them knows only fragments of the truth.”
I swallowed hard. “Smart.”
He lifted his hand and let the dead man collapse once more. He glanced between the two corpses in the catacombs.
“Convenient.” His voice was husky from the smoke. “Leave the bodies here.”
