18. Chapter 18 #3
“Regent, please explain to these heretics that we’re guests of the gods. Tell them to get out of the way, or else I will break their kneecaps. I implore you at once.”
“That would only encourage them, I’m afraid,” Regent responds with a rueful look.
“Then why the hell did we travel all this way?” Maxine demands. “Surely there’s another entrance into Riverhall that’s a bit… safer?”
“Unfortunately, the bandits have compromised most of the major roadways, which means that this bridge is the only route into the city,” Regent replies with a dry exhale, looking bitter over the whole predicament.
What he doesn’t say is that the queen and her army must be dwindling in number.
That they’re failing somehow. That they can’t even keep a basic bridge safe.
Which is bad, very bad. Or at least, very bad for her. For these bandits, not so much.
One of the miscreants removes the hood of his dirt-stained cloak and spits out, “Dibs on the pretty one.”
“Which pretty one?” his accomplice snarls.
“The one with the dark hair,” he clarifies.
“Which one with dark hair?” someone else coughs.
“Either or. I like ‘em both,” he decides with a shrug.
“There are three of them with dark hair, you fuckin’ degenerate,” the mean-looking one with the permanent scowl points out. “Learn to count.”
“Her hair is not dark!” another says, pointing at Bella. Bella stills from beside me.
“Which one makes the most noise, do ya reckon?” someone else jumps in.
“I have another idea,” a female bandit offers, withdrawing a Needle from her patched-up satchel and waving it around in the air.
“We drain ‘em dry! They look like they’re favorites of the gods. Don’t you think?
They’ll be plump full of bloodmagic and ripe for the pickin’!
Devil only knows our keg could use a refill. The next meal is on me, boys!”
I shudder at the sight of the Needle in her grasp, which looks sharp enough to pierce through flesh, yet discreet enough not to leave behind a single mark in the aftermath.
The thought of being impaled by that object, of it gulping up the very essence of my being and sucking me dry of blood is nightmare-provoking.
“What did Master Flint say about moving targets again?” Maxine asks no one in particular as she withdraws a gleaming dagger from the sheath of her boot and waves it around like a maniac, grinning from ear to ear.
“You can’t aim!” Lily reminds her, diving for the blade. “Remember your little stunt back in the courtyard where you nearly took me out with that Morningstar? You’ll kill one of us by accident!”
As the pair of them bicker back and forth, my heartbeat hums greedily in my chest, taking up space where my lungs should ideally be expanding.
I don’t have any magic to stave off these bandits with, nor do I have a weapon.
Sure, I suppose that rusty wrench that’s been repurposed as a club could work, along with that wailing crowbar and those various chunks of metal being worn as jagged jewelry on the female bandit’s ears.
But the fact of the matter is, I would need to steal one of those objects in order to use it.
And I don’t foresee that happening, not with how outnumbered we are.
“I can aim perfectly fine,” Maxine says, tossing her dagger straight at Joe as proof. It sticks right in his chest, and he topples to the ground. Dead. “See?” she says.
Lily’s mouth flies open. “So you attacked me back in the courtyard on purpose? You bitch.”
Maxine squints her eyes into the sun, using her hand to shield her vision. “Oh, get over it, you entitled brat,” she laughs. “It’s not like you’re dead, unlike poor Joe over there. Perhaps I thought that scaring you senseless would remove that giant stick out of your ass.”
Lily sputters, coughs, and then spins on me next, as if she’s expecting me to intervene on her behalf. Behind her, our dutifully sworn enemies appear to be having a field day over Joe’s dead body, screeching and screaming and vowing to exact revenge.
I hold out my hands and shrug.
“Ugh!” Lily scoffs as she swivels back on Maxine. “So help me gods, when we’re off of this goddamn bridge, I’m going to remove the stick from my ass and beat the living shit out of you with it.”
“Could you remove it now?” I ask, suddenly realizing the angry mob is growing larger by the minute. “We could use another weapon to defend ourselves with.”
“We don’t need a weapon,” Bella says, her pupils devouring the whites of her eyes. “We’re going to use our magic in battle, just as the priestess advised.”
A man approaches on our right, the one wielding the crowbar.
He swings at Bella, only to pause with his arm suspended mid-air, seemingly thwarted by some kind of invisible chokehold around his neck.
“Mother…” he gasps out, his lips turning blue.
“Mother… she needs potatoes…” He hobbles down the bridge in the opposite direction, not bothering to look back.
Maxine throws her hands on her hips and gives Bella a pointed look. “You infiltrated his memory with a grocery list? Really?”
“I felt inspired.” Bella shrugs as her pupils shrink back down to normal.
Two more men move in to attack. This time, I watch in slow motion as Lily sneaks up behind them, grabs each of their arms, and proceeds to heckle like a fiend as they fold like tattered laundry under the influence of her magic.
They both immediately begin sobbing hysterically, as if their hearts are suddenly broken.
That’s it. My friends are truly terrifying.
“Here,” Solara shouts, materializing beside me and handing me the hilt of the dagger from Joe’s chest. I snatch it from her grasp.
“How did you manage to snag this?” I ask, my gaze shifting toward three men approaching on my left.
“No time for questions,” Solara says, nudging me forward. “Hurry. End this now before they end us.”
“Us?”
One of the men lunges to grab me. My blade strikes his flesh, and my world spins to a shuddering halt. I’m swallowed up by a bucket of inky darkness, before everything goes black.