38. Aemon
38
I rub a hand at my aching bicep. Fuck, I think I might have pulled something. It doesn’t help that we’ve been at this for at least an hour, and with every minute that passes, without Katya coming back, I get tenser and tenser. I peek over my shoulder at the fat fae guard watching this section of the tunnels. He’s got his eyes pinned on one of the human girls working behind me. Asshole’s probably going to try something later when she’s alone. Makes me want to bash his head in now to save myself the trouble of doing it later.
“Aemon,” a voice shouts in my head, and I’m so stunned, I stumble backward, slip on the broken bits of rock coating the floor and fall on my ass.
Fat fae starts waving his arms and shouting at me in ümbrian, but I just ignore him.
“Katya?” I say in my head. Gods only know if she can hear me. Fuck, what if I’m hallucinating or she’s a ghost?
No. I’d know it if she were dead. I get back to my feet and pat the dust from my ass. “ Katya?”
Her voice screams through my head again. This time, I’m sure it’s real. “ I got away. I’m coming for you. I don’t know how much time we have.”
I glance around myself. Nobody else seems aware that I’m having a conversation in my head. “How are you doing this?”
“It’s the blood. My magic comes from blood. I’m one of them.”
Oh shit.
Laughter. “That’s one way to put it. Can you get out?”
I check around myself again. Nobody’s paying any attention to me. The fat guard is back to eyeing the girl and there are about twenty slaves separating me and the next guard down. “I’ll do my best.”
I shrink my ankles and feet to mimic a child’s, then step out of my manacles.
“Hey, asshole,” I shout at the fat guard. He whirls around to glare at me, his eyes two angry slits. “Catch me if you can.” I spin around and dart for the nearest cross section. Shouts rise behind me, just as I turn the corner. Hopefully, that means he’s after me and not that someone tried to step in and slow him down.
I chance a glance behind and there he is gunning for me. I pick up my pace, squeeze into another, much smaller underdeveloped section of tunnel, push my back up against the wall, and wait. He flies around the corner and right past me. After a few feet, he stops, and realizing he’s been tricked, spins around. Too late.
I swing the pickax, and it cracks through his forehead with a wet, ghastly crunch. His eyes wide with surprise—guess he didn’t expect a pickax to the face today—he crumples to the floor .
Working fast, I shed my shirt and swap it out for his uniform shirt and coat. No time for the pants. I flip him onto his back, then take a breath and hold it, ignoring the pain as my bones shift and flesh swells until I’m an exact copy of the man in front of me.
“Sorry about this,” I say to the dead man just before I stomp on his face, hoping it just looks like a bit of rage-induced overkill and not somebody trying to cover his tracks.
The gods must be on my side today because I’ve barely stepped back from the corpse before two other guards round the corner, looking for us.
“Ahhhh,” I shout, pretending I haven’t noticed them yet. I clutch my wrist to my chest like I’d injured it and limp for the exit. One of the guards says something to me, and I just nod and groan. Dammit, I should have had Katya teach me some ümbrian.
I head for the exit, moaning and crying like I’m in a lot of pain, before they can ask me anything else. The other guards barely give me a second glance as I limp through the tunnel and back to the slave camp. I keep glancing behind myself, expecting a horde of guards to come chasing after me at any moment, but nobody does. That was way too fucking easy. Something has to go wrong.
That’s when I see the guards standing sentinel on either side of the gate. Dammit. I really did not think this through. I run up to the nearest guard, cradling my hand and trying to pretend as though I’m crying, but the tears won’t come. His gaze volleys between me and the other guard. He asks me a question, and I hold up my hand and blubber something unintelligible as a reply. Brow furrowed, the guard moves closer and angles his head to get a better look at my hand .
He says something else that sounds like a bunch of gibberish to my ears. When I don’t respond, he says it again. I shake my head, hoping that will suffice, but then the male draws back, confusion plain on his face, and I know I’m done.
Fuck it.
I slam my fist into his face, then spin us both around while using my momentum to snap his neck.
The other guard has quickly caught on and draws his pistol, firing two shots into his buddy. I pull the gun from the dead fae’s belt and shoot, taking the other guard in the head and chest. He crashes to the ground. Just then, the gate starts to open. Fuck, I forgot about the guards on the other side. Still using the dead guy as a shield, I aim for the one on the right and shoot. He moves at the last second and my first shot misses completely, then I fire two more in quick succession into his chest. He goes down. I’ve taken too long though, and the other guard is rapidly firing off a series of shots, pelting the poor dead guy I’m holding in front of me. I, on the other hand, aim and shoot the fucker square between the eyes. I don’t wait to see him fall.
I drop the dead fae and run.