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“Now we fight,” Kalen said. I shuddered, not at his answer, but at all the carnage that lay ahead.
I say you.
We traded nods, and I raced after him, keeping close to his coattails as he made a path for us to the far wall. There, a particularly gruesome barrage had broken out. A horde of warriors—Guardian and otherwise—were piling on top of each other, shanking their weapons into whatever solid appendages they could find. By the squabble’s end, no doubt one brother would find himself impaled on another’s sword.
Kalen ducked under the swinging arm of a faux-Astralite, pulling me by the wrist to the center of the scuffle. Back against back, we fought; the muscle and bone of my shoulders sliding in between his as we mirrored each other’s assaults.
Right arm up to block a knife to my eye, left hip swing, and the thrust of my elbow to disarm the attacker with the hilt of my sword. When his weapon clattered to the ground, a whimper left my throat. A rush in my blood at what I had done. The power of it blew through me like I was a flute of grass on the Mountain.
But it was short-lived. As he bent to retrieve his weapon, his friend took the opportunity to swing a serrated shaft of bone to my throat. A sharp, searing pain rippled through the skin of my collarbone when he missed. Within no time at all my skin burned with a fire I hadn’t encountered yet in this world—in any of the worlds I knew. Far more intense than the pain that I had felt when Kalen split my hand. To make things worse, the wound wasn’t healing. That much I could tell. I reached forward, bracing myself as the demon parried his sword against mine once more. A jolt of fire ran through my shoulder beneath the wound, and I shook as I tried to hold my stance.
Kalen’s back tensed at the small cry I let out. Tapping his ankle in between mine, I felt on instinct that he wanted to switch positions. I moved over quickly, letting him flip us the rest of the way. I was grateful to find the men attacking us had fallen. My stomach rolled at the thought of killing someone. No matter how much these traitors’ eyes gleamed as they tried to kill me just the same.
“Gwyn.”
“I’m okay,” I said as I righted myself, but the weapon in my hand weighed like a hundred stones and I wasn’t sure I was telling the truth. I closed my eyes and tried to listen to the calamity around us. If I could find something to count, something to distract myself. I counted two shrieks of the demons and a singular thud. Kalen tugged me around by my waist to face him. When he saw my wound, his expression twisted with regret.
“Hey,” I gathered his face in my hands quickly. We didn’t havetime. “I will be okay. Now we fight.”
The echo of his sentiment seemed to bring him back to the melee that resurged around us. Quickly he forced his thumb across my wound roughly, and I hissed. He grimaced as if he felt the pain of what he had done. I had the intense need to itch at my collarbone, and then it was gone. I looked down and saw the cut, still red and throbbing but without the ore-colored feculent that had lined the torn edges of my skin moments before.
“Thank you,” I whispered, adding it to the growing list of debts he held over me. Kalen nodded swiftly and left without another word.
I left the circle of bodies then, too, and searched for another fight for us to end. And then I saw her. A woman draped in red dress and wine. Her features were forever soft, but her bright, emerald eyes were sharp with courage. She had finally found an opportune time to escape her master. If he hadn’t already been shanked clean through with an arrow, Donis wouldn’t dare come back into this madness to search for her. It seemed, Mirona knew that, too.
Stealthily, she climbed over chairs and under silken cloth table runners looking for an archway or window that wasn’t crawling with fleeing patrons. She picked up her pace once she finally spotted a broken glass divider that led to a large balcony. A smart choice, I thought, as it had access to other hallways in the Well, other passages to escape from without much notice. I had used many of those passages to move through the armory to do the same. Just as I was congratulating her in my head, her face turned ghostly white, and she careened sharply to her left.
Mirona was now running as fast as she could...toward me? No, away from something else. A giant beast who had joined our ranks without anyone noticing. Probably because whoever did was already too dead to shout a warning. The creature looked much like a wolf but stood like a man, as tall as three Guardiansstanding upon each other’s shoulders.Sparse fur covered its legs and arms in patches, revealing veiny muscles that pumped toward her wildly. Pale lips curled around a mouth full of shaved teeth, the points dripping with blood, saliva slathered across its jowls, and he was made of Shadow.
In the distance, I heard a cry, “Beerwolven!” and then the creature roared, called to arms.
I raced to Mirona now, gritting my teeth and willing every tendon in my legs to push faster—faster. She saw me then, tears pouring down her face. And when she saw my haste, she became more urgent, too. Wind from her speed lifted the flounces of her dress.
“Go!” I begged her, but the sound was swallowed up by another bellowing howl from the beast. She was running that so hard her face turned purple from loss of breath.That is what hope does to you, I thought. It makes you gasp for it.
We were so close now; I could almost hear her ragged sobs. I reached my hand to her, feeling my rough skin brush against the silk of her wrist. I started to curl my fingers around it, the world turning slowly, then rescinding abruptly. Mirona’s entire body rended back onto a bright metal plate. I realized, more quickly this time, that it was the beast’s blade.
In one swift movement, it tugged her feet from the ground into the air, gravity pulling her body back down through to her neck until she dangled by it. The beast roared in triumph, trails of Shadow thrashing as he swung her body through the air. I choked back a cry and pivoted sharply in the other direction.
Just like that.
She was dead and I was running. All the while, counting the strides back to safety and trying to make sense of the look of relief on her face.
Clutching my cramped stomach, I found Kalen pacing beneath what was left of Gabriel’s torn crest. My heart burned. It shouldbe those unkillable Sages risking everything beneath their own banners. Not Kalen. Not any of these Guardians. Not our people.
I watched Kalen wipe the blood and grit from his face and let out a private breath of exhaustion. Although the battle had calmed slightly, it was far from over. He trudged towards a body that still twitched in vain, the lines around his face drooping with pity as he plunged his knife into the warrior’s temple. I watched with empathy for both of them. I pulled my gaze away with an ache in my heart just for Kalen.
Another vigilant sweep around the room revealed a smudge of plum darting from the corner of my vision.A demon, jaded from the beating he’d received at the hands of The Preserver, barreling towards him. It was a sick realization; that between the clashes of sword against bone and the pleas of the dying, Kalen would not hear his fast approach, would not turn around to defend himself.
Grabbing the base of my sword, I waited until he was close enough to Kalen. Until he was within my arm’s range. I drew a sharp breath and forced it out as my shoulder followed through.
Without time to reflect, I would never be sure, but I don’t think there was a single thought in my mind as I made my kill. Just a flash of Kalen’s sun-soaked face and the awful fate that was racing towards him.
My blade’s handle flew, brushing against my calloused fingers for traction, and then the sword plunged into the brow bone of the demon, pinning him against the wall. I froze, palm still outstretched, framing it all like a painting.
His mouth slacked open.
Blood leaked from the wound and then poured.
