Chapter 36
Ibriefly wondered if Kier regretted using the words all-out chaos. Valour sprinted past the four horses that had driven our carriage, spooking them into rearing with sharp, piercing whinnies. Light and magic shone from their shoes.
Inspiration struck as we raced past, wind tearing at my hair.
I flung my arm out to my side, shearing through the leather straps connecting them to the carriage.
I was half surprised it worked, honestly.
The tether was damned strong and not designed to be cut apart, but clearly the topazes in the handle of my dagger did some heavy lifting.
Valour swerved out of the horses’ path as their hooves thundered over the dam road, carrying them towards the fifty goblins ahead of us. They didn’t do anything about the fifty behind us, but that was probably asking too much.
Kier’s dragon slashed the darkening sky with bright, violent blue, aiming for Jyrard’s other cronies, as if he’d had the same thought.
Baby, go help the dragon. Grab people and throw them into the dam if you have to.
A shiver of excitement went through our bond, and Baby showed me a sharp visual of him purring, kneading a soft, fur blanket with his paws. He was ecstatic at the thought of mass murder. I didn’t know where he got that from.
Valour rumbled a warning growl, and I focused on the goblins ahead of us. No humans, no Greenheart. Clearly, Cleodora didn’t trust Jyrard enough to let him play with her toys. I wonder if it rankled.
“Where’s your leader?” I shouted the moment I was close enough to project my voice, tightening my thighs around Valour as she increased her speed.
Trying to hold onto two knives and not fall off a jaguar turned out to be a painful test of core and leg muscles.
I wished I’d worked out more while I languished in the Chamber of Truths.
If we got out of this, I’d practise riding Valour every day. Even if my stomach muscles ached in protest at the mere thought.
“I have no leader,” Jyrard seethed, taking the bait. Idiot. “I am the king of the Bluescale Court.”
“Sure, buddy. Where’s your mistress, then? Your girlfriend? Your mummy? I don’t know your personal business, what cute pet names you call each other.”
Valour tossed her head. Why are you provoking him?
To make him sloppy.
“Bring her to me,” Jyrard barked at his goons, steel singing as he drew a sword from his back.
“Come do it yourself, you coward. I thought you liked beating up innocent people.”
His laugh was like a pustule—bubbling, full of infection, probably going to kill him one of these days. “There is nothing innocent about you, princess.”
Ready to rip apart some bad guys? I asked Valour, pushing aside the thought that these might actually be good guys taking orders from an asshole. They threatened me, Kier, and my babies; it didn’t matter if they were saints, they needed to go.
I brushed the heel of my hand over the huge sapphire hanging around my throat (trying not to poke my eye out with my long dagger in the process.) A cool ocean of power waited in my core, itching for an excuse to rise up.
All it took was a little encouragement and magic tore from the gem like an explosion of lightning.
Valour hissed. I imagined it meant, a little warning would be nice.
“You’re fine, not a single tuft of fur singed.”
She huffed, but kept running, ramming her head into the first soldier we reached. Her jaws latched onto his knee and she whipped him over the side of the wall and into the dam before I could blink. It happened so fast, I didn’t even smell the blood from her puncture wound.
If the screams behind us were any indication, Kier’s dragon was having similar success. Baby was certainly thriving; he kept sending me happy purrs through the connection we shared.
“What is it you want?” I asked Jyrard, keeping my eye on the five uniformed goblins closing in around us. I shifted my grip on each blade, ready to fight. “You’re already pushing us out of Lazankh. What more do you want?”
“You, dead,” he spat, standing back while his cronies did the dirty work.
If any of them thought it strange that their prince wanted someone brought to him instead of doing it himself—especially in a culture where strength was praised, and hard work was powerful and worth merit—they didn’t say.
Maybe Cleodora had brainwashed them, too.
I swung my right dagger, slashing across a tall, blue woman’s stomach before I whipped up my other blade and sent magic rushing down the sharp edge.
The pendant shone brighter around my neck, magic almost fizzing off the edge of the blade in the moment before I drove it into the gut of the man on our left.
Valour grabbed the middle one, ripped his throat out, then went for the hamstring of the short, stocky soldier beside him.
Which left us with one tall, rangy woman covered in armour and blazing sapphires. Great, we left the worst one unharmed.
Her bright burst of magic slammed into my chest and threw me off Valour’s back.
My scream filled the air, incensing our horses into another mad dash.
They reared up and slammed their hooves down, causing an impressive stampede.
Some goblins went down and stayed down. Others raced out of their path, retreating to the edge of the dam.
Horses—10/10, recommend always having them with you.
I clambered to my feet with a groan, Valour already circling back to guard me as I brushed the dirt off my clothes and assessed the goblins coming at me on three sides.
Worse, the shouts and screams from across the bridge had stopped, and I didn’t have a chance to turn and see what had happened to Kier and his dragon.
Baby? I demanded.
Busy, mother, was his dismissive reply, though more in growls than words. I tasted blood and wasn’t sure if it was my own or something across our bond. I hoped it wasn’t Kier, because if he was hurt, I was going to go fucking nuclear.
I snatched up my knives where they’d landed, angry enough now that magic erupted down the metal of both, lighting the steel in icy, gleaming blue.
I drove one at the movement I caught in the corner of my eye, exhaling a shuddery breath of relief when the tip of my blade pierced the soldier’s heart before he could grab me and deliver me to Jyrard.
“It’s nothing personal,” I said when the man’s eyes locked with mine in his last seconds. “You’re better off with the ruthless gods than following that bastard anyway.”
I laid him on the ground, jumping when Valour vaulted over my back and drove another soldier to the ground.
We’d taken out more than ten, but they just kept coming, and Prince Knobhead over there just stood back and let us kill them.
Was he intentionally trying to tire us out?
Because I had some bad news for him about the endless energy of magical creatures if that was the case.
An electric burst of light tore across the sky, making me jump, and the armoured woman who’d been about to throw her sword at me recoiled too, staring up in horror as Kier’s dragon swooped down.
I watched in surprise and a little horror as the dragon parted her glowing blue jaws and swallowed the soldier whole.
I was so distracted by the sight—you did not see that everyday—that I missed the brawny, long-haired goblin sneaking up on my other side.
Valour was busy engaging two men that appeared to be twins, her long growls either of anger or satisfaction.
Or angry satisfaction. I didn’t even know the other guy was there until heat sliced across my side, right where my jacket met my trousers.
Pain forced a gasp from me, and I whipped both daggers towards him, assessing his huge body and—oh good, he shifted right in front of me.
Transformed from a six-two man with tawny gold skin to a seven-something goblin with long, flowing hair, a pretty face made ugly by the violence on it, and two, jagged swords I swore had been shorter a second ago.
“Perchance, do you want to fight someone your own size?” I asked hopefully, backing up a step as I assessed him. Valour, I hissed, stay close.
“My king demands your presence.”
“Your king’s dead; the Greenheart queen ate his heart. That little twerp is just a pretender. And here’s a secret: he could not give two shits whether you live or die.”
Rage lit in the goblin’s blue eyes, and he came at me with those immense swords. The tips looked like they’d been hacked off by magic, creating a viciously sharp edge I knew would gut me in two seconds flat. Better get out of range, then.
“Valour,” I yelled, the only warning I could give her.
She shook her head, jaws locked in the throat of a man with golden hair and sky-blue skin, dropping him just in time to straighten as I leapt.
My foot drove into her back and I propelled myself into the air, twisting in a way that bound my stomach in knots.
Please let this be the right angle, please let me have calculated correctly, please—
I slammed into the guy’s back hard enough to force all the air from my stomach.
It hurt like a bitch, but success! I brought my arm around his neck like we were besties and he was giving me a piggy back ride, but besties didn’t usually slide the sharp, glowing edge of a magic blade across each other’s throats.
The second he began to fall, I jumped off, landing on two feet by sheer fluke when one of the twins Valour was supposed to be dealing with came at me with a roar.
“You’re literally fighting for someone who helped kill your king,” I sighed, whipping both knives up, angled to protect my chest. I mean, the king was a bastard and an abuser, but really. All this loyalty was admirable, but for Jyrard? The goblin equivalent of a sweaty ass-crack mole?