Chapter Ninety Daje
“Godsdamn it!” Cass shouts, standing and kicking his chair behind him, two blades already in his hands. “Are you okay?”
“Fuck.” I stand from my chair as I scan the room. My vision goes double, each breath choking off in a groan as I struggle to draw air in.
Reaching for Elora, I attempt to tug her towards me, but she resists, her face drained of color. “You have a—”
“Protect yourself!” I tell her, my anger stirring at the very familiar hilt of my own fucking dagger sticking out of my shoulder.
Blood trickles down my chest, and I move to reach for the blade when I’m shoved from the side, sending me careening towards the ground, my shoulder screaming at the impact.
“Fae sympathizers! You’re working with them!
” I look over my shoulder as the man who hit me lunges again, his dark eyes gleaming with malice while his fingers curl towards his palm and he begins to wind his hand back.
Keeping my gaze on him, I quickly reach for the dagger and yank it out.
More screams fill the room, my vision flashing black, and for a single moment in time, everything goes quiet.
There is no chaos unfolding in the dining room of this inn.
There are no entangled feelings of love and lust and friendship.
There’s no domineering, perpetually disappointed father with a penchant for being cruel.
There is nothing but the sound of my breath rattling in my chest. My heartbeat pounding in my skull.
And then, all at once, it comes rushing back in.
My vision flashes back at the exact moment the man charging for me falls to the ground.
Cass’s shout of warning rends the air right as Elora’s scream sounds.
Perhaps it’s instinct—something that’s been there as part of me being mage or male or some combination of the two—but I react before I think as I launch to my feet.
Spinning the bloodied blade, I toss it up in the air, watching as it goes tip-over-hilt before I catch it and then fling it towards the man at Elora’s back.
She blinks, spinning with her own dagger drawn in one hand and her pink magic flaring in the other just in time to watch the man fall, the blade now embedded between his eyes.
“Are you alright?” Rushing towards her, my hands grip her shoulders before I cringe at the blood I’ve gotten on her blouse.
“Am I—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head.
“Are you okay? You were stabbed, and I—” Her chest rises with a heaving breath, her mouth opening and closing quickly though no more sound comes out.
I take stock of her shaking hands, the one holding the dagger covered in blood.
Once I’m sure it isn’t hers, I lean in close, getting on her eye level.
“I’m fine. I’ll live, but I need you to protect yourself so that I can help Cass. Can you do that?”
She nods as a tear escapes and trails down her cheek. I don’t have time to comfort her the way I’m called to, not when my friend is shouting for my help. “Follow me.”
We turn back to watch as Cass blocks a man with a godsdamn sword, crossing his own longer-bladed daggers in front of him.
But before I can navigate through the overturned chairs and tables to get to him, another man rushes into the dining room.
His eyes search the space until they connect with mine, and I reach for the dagger strapped at my belt before he takes his next step.
Pain flares over my shoulder, and I quickly pull my magic to it, cringing as the muscles work to stitch back together.
“Fae sympathizer!” he bellows, barreling towards us. I raise my hand and send a blast of my yellow magic towards him, hitting him square in the chest and sending him flying back into the wall.
“Cass!” Elora’s shriek cuts through my concentration, pulling my attention towards my friend.
Cass deflects each swing of his opponent’s sword, even as the man pushes him back towards a wall.
Fuck, he’s about to be cornered. Elora releases her magic with a grunt, the stream of pink lighting up the room as it goes right towards her intended target.
The man throws up a translucent shield made of dark blue, deflecting her magic but not without a cost. Cass is quick, and his dagger is in the man’s chest before he can draw in his next breath.
“Stars above, thank you,” Cass says, making his way towards us. We eye the bodies in the room, counting four dead so far.
“Why did they call us fae sympathizers?” Elora asks, her fingertips brushing at her cheeks, wiping away tears.
My own fingers flex at my sides, but I stay equidistant between her and Cass, my gaze locked on the open door to the dining room.
Shadows stir outside, and I grab my second blade from my boot, ignoring how sticky my shirt is as another handful of mages enter.
They’re led by the man who gave us the keys to our room.
He holds a sword in one hand, the item in his other hand making Elora gasp as she takes a step towards him.
“Hey! That is mine!” She takes another step before I wrap an arm around her waist, tugging her back with me. Her eyes, angry and sad, meet mine. “He has one of my books!”
“You admit it! You’re working with the fae!”
“It’s a book, not a damn manifesto!” Cass shouts back. Sweat gleams over his forehead, his white-blond hair sticking to it as he attempts to swat it out of his face. “She’s reading about the Fae Kingdom! There is nothing illegal about that.”
The man laughs, encouraging the others to join in on some bizarre display of dominance or incredulity. I’m not yet sure which. “Do you think we are idiots?” he asks, holding the book up as if to emphasize his point.
Cass opens his mouth, and I quickly kick the side of his foot to tell him to shut up.
“It’s a simple misunderstanding,” I tell them, holding my hands up in front of me. “We aren’t working with the fae. We have no intentions of doing such a thing. We’ll leave now if that will make you feel better.”
“So you can run and spill our secrets to the fae? I don’t think so.” The man closest to the door kicks it shut before brandishing a dagger of his own. The others pull out varying weapons, and I make note of the fact that none reach for their magic. In fact, I can barely sense their signatures.
I step in front of Elora, Cass joining me at my side.
“Keep your blade out and be ready to call on your magic the moment anyone gets past us,” I whisper to her.
My mouth is already forming words in response to her protest, but Elora doesn’t give one.
She simply nods and stays a step behind, readying her position.
The two men at the end of the formation lunge towards us first, and Cass and I both hit them with a burst of our magic, holding them back as we dart forward.
I slice at the man closest to me, his forearm coming up to take the brunt of the hit.
Orange magic glows at his fingertips, and I spin out of the way and kick my leg out low, swiping him right off his feet.
My boot is the next thing to come down, connecting with his jaw and knocking him out.
It feels like only a single breath of time passes before someone else is upon me, my dagger lifting up to block the weapon swung my way.
My wound protests the movement and sweat rolls down my back as I fight mage after mage, the anger in their eyes only obstructed by the fear I see there too.
My knuckles sting in pain at the punch I send to a man who looks not much older than I am, and before I can watch him hit the ground, another takes his place, hands clutching a rudimentary wooden club.
Muscles aching, I duck and spin out of his first few swings of it, but don’t move fast enough to avoid the next.
The club hits the back of my shoulder, and I drop to a knee as air rushes from me.
A pair of dark eyes appears above me, club already raised over his head as he growls.
Swirls of yellow wrap around his arms holding him in place as I drag my blade across his stomach, his bellow ringing in my ears.
Blood spills down the front of his body, and as I pull my magic back, he drops the club and falls to the ground, his hands pressed into his gut.
I watch as his magic flares there, but its light is much smaller than it needs to be for such a deep injury.
“You good?” Cass asks, hauling me up, Elora at his side. None of the other men remain, and as I watch Elora’s chest rise and fall in quick succession, more blood staining her blouse than before, my stomach sinks at the thought that she had to step in and fight too.
“I’m fine. We need to get out of here before they do anything to our horses.”
Cass nods, jogging in the direction of one of the windows. Grabbing one of the dining chairs, he wastes no time heaving it at the glass. Elora’s eyes squeeze shut, her dagger held so tightly in her hand that her knuckles are flooded with white, noticeable even against her pale skin.
“That’ll work,” Cass says, just as voices sound outside of the closed door. “Come on. Prepare to run once we hit the ground. The stables are behind the building.” He slides a second chair in front of the window before climbing onto it, jumping down to the other side.
“My books,” Elora whispers, pleading eyes meeting mine.
“We don’t have time to go looking for them,” I answer softly, guiding her forward. “I’m sorry.”
With a sigh, she follows Cass outside. I pause, looking around for the man who greeted us when we first arrived.
“Come on, Daje!” Cass calls, his voice already farther away.
“I’m coming!” A moment later, I’m at the window, jumping out and sprinting towards the stables.