18. Attacking
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Attacking
My knees buckled, and I fell to the ground. A shriek came from Branwen and Vera as they lunged forward. Officers took hold of their arms.
I bit my tongue to halt a sob from exploding. There would be no escaping if I faltered.
While the focus was on her, I lifted my heel so I rested on my toes, popping the back of the slipper free to offer space to grab the blade.
As I stood, I kept my hand against my robe, tears trickling down my cheeks.
Egan stepped closer to his father, hand on his sword’s hilt and the other gripping the effigy.
Screams continued echoing. Shrill and piercing—full of grief.
“Shut them up,” Vaner complained.
Blue blood bubbled to Hester’s lips, but a look of rage flitted over her features. She met my eyes, blood draining from her lips. Her shaking hand fell to her thigh where a section was raised . . . as if there were a book there.
“Kill them if they will not shut—”
Damien sliced his blade through the chains binding Cassiel’s legs together, freeing the piece attaching them together.
Everything happened in a blink of time. Cassiel lunged forward, wound the chains connecting his wrists together around the nearest council member’s throat.
In a move so quick, he snapped his neck.
An officer brought the sword down behind him.
A shout caught in my throat. I needn’t worry, because as they grappled, Cassiel broke the wooden leg from the chair and slid it into the officer’s face, rendering him unrecognizable.
He whirled around and grabbed Lord Dillon, wrapping his chain around his throat before pulling the chain taut.
Blood and skin burst through the chain links.
Chaos erupted.
Hester had dragged herself until she reached Egan’s ankle. He staggered and fell on his face.
Unsheathing the blade, I dashed past Vaner shouting orders, and lunged for the effigy that slipped from Egan’s hand.
A different officer dove for the effigy at the same time.
I threw my body forward, reaching his back, and brought the blade into the back of his neck until I hit bone.
He screamed and reached over his shoulder.
In panic, I kept shoving the knife until the hilt was against his skin.
I must have hit something vital because he seized and fell to the side.
Even with his topple forward, I kept hold of the small knife.
The silver surface came away with a coat of sapphire.
I killed him . . .
I seized the effigy, hugging it as gently as possible. I turned to face the chaos. Cassiel cut a path toward me. Vera and Branwen had seized swords from felled officers. They stabbed at the men Cassiel flung aside, finishing what he started.
Blood sprayed across my face, and I swiped it away. One of the councilmen lay on their face. The man from southern Sycarious.
“Give it to me!” Vaner bellowed, taking hold of my hair. He yanked, and pain shot down my neck.
“She has a weapon!”
The shout only offered me a split second of surprise.
Vaner turned. Instead of sliding the blade into his throat, it slammed into his shoulder, raking down.
He hissed and slapped me across the face.
Hard enough that I lost my footing. As I stumbled back, I caught sight of his flesh beneath the wound. A familiar greenish shade.
Rot. Vaner had the Hollow Plague.
A thick layer of gelatinous material oozed from the gash. “Bitch!” he shrieked and swung his arm at me again, sending me to the ground.
Two officers converged in a blur. I backed away, scanning where to run when my back hit something hard. Terror stole my breath.
‘It’s me.’
Cassiel gripped my side and prodded me back a few paces.
The two officers hesitated for a breath.
Behind them, Vaner escaped. The officers finally rushed forward, but Cassiel was already slashing the sword across in a smooth glide, easily pulling it through their torsos.
The blade snagged, and he yanked through, bringing with it a piece of spine.
My stomach rebelled, and I forced myself to look away. Bodies writhed, blood dripping from various places. Any of the Guard that still lived had begun to run.
“Come,” Cassiel said, catching my arm.
“Wait!” I exclaimed, scanning the blood-splattered corpses until I found a familiar brown frock.
I pulled out of his grip and crouched beside Hester. Her parted lips had stopped moving and her eyes were unfocused.
“I am sorry,” I whispered, lifting her frock to expose her thigh.
Strapped to the middle with a bandage wrapped around it was the Lore of Old. I slid the blade through the fabric, and it was free. I hugged it close with the effigy, leaving the small blade beside Hester. Cassiel grabbed my arm and hoisted me to my feet while balancing both blades in one big hand.
‘Stand behind me,’ he ordered, moving forward with prowling steps. Once I gathered my balance, he released me and took one blade in each hand.
As we crossed through the parlor that led to the underground cells we had been kept in, we encountered a woman collecting her needlepoint from the settee, a panicked look on her face. She gasped and fell off the chair, using her slippered feet to drag herself away from Cassiel’s approach.
“Not her,” I blurted out. Pyria kept her eyes squeezed tight, huddling behind the couch.
Cassiel looked at me. ‘Why?’
I only touched my Sigil. It was what allowed me to read the grimoire I hugged. Cassiel grunted and jerked his head for me to follow. ‘Stay close.’
“Did you see where Vera and Branwen went?” My voice shook.
‘No, but that officer who freed me went with them.’
Knowing Damien was with them calmed my worry.
The cuffs around his ankles were still attached to chains and they clanged with his every stride. Cassiel stopped beside a cabinet. He cocked his head, then smashed his foot against the side.
It toppled over and crashed on the ground. The doors flopped open and Ida spilled out. She crawled forward, screaming. Cassiel placed his foot on hers, and her scream drowned out the loud crunch. He took the grimoire out of my hand and offered me the hilt of one of the blades.
I opened and closed my mouth, unable to bring myself to take it.
“You seemed upset when that girl was killed.” He shrugged. “I’m happy to do it.”
That girl was Hester. “No.” I snatched the pommel with a thick knot in my throat.
I turned back to a sobbing Ida who was curled over her crushed foot. Then I lifted the blade. I couldn’t stop shaking.
‘I will do it for you.’
I clenched my teeth. Hester’s deadened gaze flashed to the forefront. I plunged the blade forward. Metal met flesh until the blade stopped.
Ida’s cry cut off. Her eyes widened on me. Words bubbled behind my trembling lips. A look of resignation crossed her features.
“I should not have betrayed them.” With her whisper came blood.
“Too late for your regrets,” I choked out, pulling the blade from her sternum. It snagged against bone. Her face paled, and I tugged until it dislodged.
I flexed my hands around the hilt. Blood gushed from her chest. I should have ended it, but my stomach revolted.
My shoulders curled forward. Cassiel plucked the sword from my blue-drenched hands and swung it in an effortless arc, slicing it across Ida’s throat.
Blue clung to the fleshy, exposed innards.
More death, and this time I’d done it. Not out of panic.
‘We must go.’
His words pulled me out of my mind. I mechanically took the book and effigy from his large grip.
“I hear steps coming from that direction.” Cassiel snarled, swinging his head back and forth.
“Miss Ixchelca.”
I whirled to find Cassiel already had the sword pointed at the man a few paces away.
“Lord Tagon?”
I staggered against the wall, my chest heaving. So much bloodshed.
“There is a servants’ exit through here,” he offered, striding to one of the pillars lining the hall.
He reached behind the stone and seemed to be patting to search for something. Cassiel was incredibly stiff, on the verge of attacking. There was a hiss, then the sound of something giving way came at the same moment that a doorway appeared into view.
‘It could be a trap.’
“This is how I can aid your mother,” Lord Tagon croaked. “I loved her.” He stepped forward, and I put a hand up to stop Cassiel from attacking. His hand hovered over my cheek. “You look just like her.”
Lord Tagon’s eyes widened, and he pushed me into Cassiel. An arrow slid right through one of his eyes. Blue blood splattered across my face, forcing me to close my eyes.
I screamed, whipping my head toward the one who had done this. The bastard with the cropped hair was notching another arrow.
Cassiel hissed.
Officers swarmed through the connecting hallway between the council and feeder wings.
“Not now!” I shouted. “We must run.” All the sacrifices that had been made. All the bodies lost, they could not be in vain.
He snarled and turned back to me, capturing my hand. I struggled to keep pace with him, especially with my limp. I tripped and Cassiel caught me before I collided with the ground.
“Hold this.” He held the pommel of one sword out to me, dropping the other. I tucked the grimoire under one arm and took the sword in that hand while my other still held the effigy.
He pulled me up and into his arms. Cassiel shot forward, the explosion of motion whipping my hair around my face. I held onto the sword for dear life.
Cassiel rushed through the bland, stone hallway that led in one direction.