Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
It was the quick tap tap tap of boots racing up the stretch of road that alerted them.
Karvek and his soldiers were turning, bracing for the impact.
Then Pyetar and Dinhal were there, metal-forged swords drawn, practically flying.
Iryana summoned her spear, focusing on the feel of its pull on her magic, and launched herself at Karvek.
She had hoped that the surprise would give her the opening she needed, but in the same moment his soldiers cut off Pyetar and Dinhal, and Karvek turned toward her.
There was betrayal and fire in his eyes. But not surprise.
“So you’ve chosen them,” Karvek growled as he deftly knocked the spear away, stepping in close.
Iryana retreated, putting space between them again. “They’re my family.”
For a moment, rage flickered across his face, but Karvek hid it just as fast behind a mask of cold lethality.
Hesitation gripped her as she readied to attack him, but then Karvek was slipping away. A bigger threat claimed his attention. But another soldier jumped between them, and she barely knocked his falchion away in time.
She was fighting with everything she had, blocking and lunging and keeping the swords away from her. She couldn’t see who had engaged Karvek in the mess of bodies around her as the other soldier tried to drive her back.
She glimpsed Pyetar as he worked his way around, a soldier he’d been fighting now a heap on the ground. Dinhal managed the same a moment later until they were fighting in a small formation.
With them at her side, Iryana felt strong, unbeatable.
Darish started circling Pyetar at her side, forcing him to turn to keep his back protected. Iryana felt the panic rising. It was a tactic they used on the dakii to split up a pack.
“Pyetar,” she called, a slight keen of panic threading her voice.
“I know.” His voice was strained, and she knew he would fight his hardest to stay by her side.
A few more soldiers joined Karvek and Darish. Then she couldn’t see Pyetar anymore, not able to take her eyes off the soldier in front of her. The sounds of him fighting grew further away.
Iryana swung her spear out wildly, forcing her enemies to back out of the way and giving her a moment to look for Pyetar. He was still fighting, holding off a couple of soldiers, but he was too far for her to get to.
When she looked back, a sword was sweeping up from the spot Dinhal had just been in.
She knocked the blade aside, realizing her uncle had been separated from her too.
As she locked blades again, this time it was Karvek staring at her over the forgings.
Iryana dropped her hold on her magic, just for a moment, just long enough for his sword to pass through the spot hers had been in, and then she thrust her spear toward him.
She grazed his shoulder, and he grunted. It didn’t faze him though; he launched a wild series of attacks, forcing her to retreat until they were against the wall of the estate.
Even in a fight where she should have had more advantage with her longer reach, Karvek was more than keeping up with her. She didn’t let him get close enough to attack her, but he blocked each of her attacks just the same. It was a struggle to keep him from closing the distance between them.
When Iryana managed a glance at Pyetar and Dinhal, they were fighting off even more soldiers, a barrier of Karvek’s people seeming to block them in.
Where were their soldiers? Where were the Kleesolds?
Iryana didn’t have time to figure it out, because Karvek’s sword was cutting down toward her right side. She blocked him barely, attempting to throw his sword off.
She had sparred with plenty of other forged soldiers, but two metal-forged weapons locked together had a distinct feel, unlike anything else.
Karvek’s forging against her own didn’t feel right.
Something was wrong.
Iryana gasped, eyes flickering up to Karvek.
Her magic struggled to stay stabilized, and she grunted as she pushed all her effort into keeping her forging solid. But when she wavered, Karvek didn’t miss his opening.
With one smooth move, Karvek cut straight down over her spear.
It was like a shock wave traveled through her. The pull on her magic grew impossibly strong, pulling and pulling until it snapped.
Iryana screamed, losing hold of her spear as the weakened magic returned to her.
“What did you do?” she demanded, scrambling back.
She’d never seen a metal-forging do that to another.
She tried to form another forging, but she couldn’t summon more than a flicker of her spear, the efforts driving a rock into her skull with every attempt.
Karvek just laughed, swinging his sword around to force her back.
She could grab the steel falchion sheathed at her side, but it would never stand up to the strength of Karvek’s forgings.
It was time.
“Now!” Iryana threw her hand out to the side.
There was a beat before she felt something materialize in her palm, her fingers reflexively closing around it. Her anger surged higher.
Thank you, Teshya. Iryana hoped her cousin’s wife was still tucked somewhere safely.
Iryana swung the fire-forged dagger around, smacking the tip of Karvek’s sword. Nothing happened, not even a flicker.
Metal was weak to fire, so why wasn’t Karvek struggling to hold his forging against hers?
She was forced to parry Karvek’s sword, barely knocking it out of the way.
Fighting with a dagger against a longer-reached weapon was a skill in and of itself, but Iryana was a guardian.
She danced around Karvek, waiting for the right opportunity to slice at his sword with her dagger. The metal pinged, but nothing else happened.
Iryana stumbled a few steps back, desperate for enough space to figure out what was going on.
Why wasn’t Karvek’s blade vulnerable to fire?
Why wasn’t it working? Her eyes flicked to the mottled red dagger, the handle warm in her hand.
His sword should react to the dagger like… like her spear had to his sword.
Oh, no. No. No. No. They were wrong about something. Karvek wasn’t metal-forged. Not entirely.
Karvek was watching her carefully, a smirk pulling his lips back.
“How?” she whispered.
“If only you weren’t my enemy, Iryana.”
She barely shifted her weight fast enough to avoid his swing, gasping as she desperately regained her footing. Just as she collected herself, something shimmering and white slammed into her.
His shield.
The force knocked her off her feet, and she tumbled onto the ground. She didn’t even feel it.
What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?
Iryana crawled along the side of the estate, away from Karvek. Pieces of wood that had crumpled off the road dug sharply into her palms, but the blow she expected to come never did. Tears burned her eyes, and panic clenched her throat so tight her breaths were weak little gasps.
Karvek had enough magic and enough control to shove her back with his shield.
She didn’t have a weapon that could defeat him.
Where were Pyetar and her uncle? She couldn’t do it alone.
Pulling herself up, dagger waving in front of her in a pathetic attempt to keep herself safe, Iryana faced Karvek again.
His eyes burned with rage, with betrayal.
Karvek’s foot came out of nowhere, knocking Iryana back off her feet. Her back slammed into the hard wall of the estate, her head snapping back with a crack. Before she could crash to the ground again, Karvek caught her. Somewhere Pyetar shouted her name.
The dagger was ripped from her hand, and she was hauled against Karvek, back against his chest. His arms were a brace, trapping her to his body.
Iryana gasped, back arching away from Karvek’s chest as the razor edge of a dagger nicked her neck.
Then her eyes widened with horror as she saw the surrounding sight. The fighting had slowed; most of the Kleesolds and the soldiers that had joined them were on their knees along the side of the road.
Pyetar was on his knees in the center of the road, facing them. Two soldiers flanked him, spears pointed at his chest, and Darish stood behind him, whispering something Iryana couldn’t hear.
They were thoroughly fucked.
Pyetar’s face was twisted with fear as he stared at her. As if he were watching his worst nightmare unfold. The more she watched, the more she realized his entire body was shaking.
Iryana picked out her family members one by one. Uncle Dinhal, Kladara, and Tonhald were near the front; Teshya curled up in her husband’s arms. The sight would have brought her to her knees if Karvek wasn’t holding her up.
“They don’t understand you. They never will,” Karvek said, his voice low and rumbling next to her ear. “I may not be sweet and gentle, but I see what you could be capable of. I would have molded you into an unstoppable force; I would have cherished you.”
Her voice was rough when she answered. “You would have cherished me like a blacksmith cares for his favorite hammer. Once I was no longer useful, you would have no purpose for me.”
“Perhaps.” His voice was tauntingly intimate. “But your broken, jagged pieces would never have bothered me.”
Iryana sucked in a shuddering breath. She didn’t want to be in pieces anymore.
He leaned the side of his sharply angled face against hers, the scruff along his jaw rubbing against her cheekbone. A loud sigh escaped his lips.
“I thought you understood me.” Karvek shifted the hand holding the dagger, running his thumbnail along her neck and up toward her ear. His voice grew darker. “I thought you were loyal, but you are shortsighted—weak. A rodent crawling along my floor.”
Iryana swallowed as Karvek lifted his head.
“You have made a mistake by turning against me,” Karvek called out over Iryana’s shoulder, the crowd and fighting quieting. “But I am a generous man. If you turn back to me now, I will consider this a fleeting moment of poor judgment. You will have opportunities to earn back my trust.”
Before he even finished talking, Iryana knew most of the soldiers would give in. He had been easily victorious, easily fighting Iryana off. The soldiers would see him as all powerful and unbeatable. Why wouldn’t they turn?
The clang of weapons being thrown to the ground, the forged weapons disappearing, was still a shock to her system.
She knew without a doubt that if Karvek didn’t need the numbers for his war, he would have slaughtered every person who had stood against him.
“Escort the rest to the cells,” Karvek ordered before whipping around, dragging Iryana with him.
“What will you do to them?” she demanded, struggling to get a purchase on the ground.
“Whatever I want.”
The doors to his estate grew closer, and Iryana thrashed wildly.