38. Belly of the Beast #3
“You call seeing villages burned and razed and then deciding to do something about it betrayal?” Cypress asked incredulously.
“YES! Where’s the fucking loyalty, Cypress? I raised you out of that hole we found you in. How dare you choose him over me?” Cade huffed, his face now as red as fresh blood.
“Loyalty! You want to talk about loyalty, Cade?”
“Where is he!” Cade shouted, then ducked under her sword and out of the corner.
“Who?” Cypress demanded, though she knew full well who Cade meant.
“My fucking brother,” Cade spat, then charged her with his sword raised over his head.
“Oh, I ditched him down below for a good time up here,” Cypress said, and raised her sword to block his blow.
Cade was so easy to goad, to nettle his anger.
“LIAR!” Cade yelled.
While he was distracted, Cypress swept his feet out from beneath him.
Cade managed to roll at the last moment and kept his blade.
“What’s the matter, Cade? Are you jealous that your only friend found someone else to play with?” Cypress asked and danced away from his slashing sword.
“You’re not my only friend,” Cade growled through gritted teeth.
Cypress laughed, their blades kissing once more in rapid succession. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Then, Cade lunged for her side, and Cypress blocked the attack with one of her own.
The edge of her sword was now tinged crimson, and a line of blood flowed from Cade’s side.
“You bitch!” He shrieked, his free hand pressed over his ribs.
“You could always just let me go,” Cypress tried once more, and danced out of the way of his careless attack.
“Just like your bitch of a mother died within these walls, so will you,” Cade said through gritted teeth. Then, he attacked once more.
“My mother?” Cypress demanded. Her sword met every one of his strikes with ease.
“That got your attention, didn’t it?” Cade wheezed while he circled the column in the middle of the room.
“What do you know about Aithlin Iilrona?” Cypress asked and allowed him the brief respite.
“Put your sword down, and I’ll tell you how she died before I kill you,” Cade offered, his sword arm outstretched.
“Not a chance.”
Cade grinned. “I was hoping you were going to say that.”
Then, Cade lunged for her, sword held high above his head. Cypress raised her sword, meeting each blow to parry it away.
And, where the fuck was Torren? Had he abandoned her at the first sign of trouble?
Again and again their blades kissed, cross guards clanging when they met. Cypress kept pushing him off, but he would rush back in in a reckless attack.
He’d always been this way. He would become more and more reckless and dangerous the more he went without getting what he wanted– in this case, beating Cypress.
She needed to disarm him before he injured himself even more than he already was– and quickly. Cypress still had to come up with a way out of the Keep. There was no time to think, though. She needed to focus on the fight.
Cade swung his sword in a great, sweeping arc once more, dangerously close to her middle. Cypress easily parried it and sent an attack of her own toward him.
The Prince blocked, but badly. What would have been a small slash was turned into something far deadlier as the move sent Cypress’s blade straight through Cade’s middle.
Cypress’s eyes went wide as Cade slowly dropped to the floor, the hilt of her sword sticking out of his chest and his back.
Fuck. Fuck.
What had she done?
The door behind her creaked, but Cypress couldn’t look away from Cade’s face, his gaping mouth now filling with blood.
“Lass, it’s time to move,” Torren said quietly, his footsteps silent on the stone floor.
Cypress nodded and took a step away from Cade.
Fuck.
Cypress just killed the Prince of Grethnah.
Oh, Fuck.
She thought she might be sick.
“Lass,” Torren hissed again, and dread pooled in her gut.
The hall just outside was filled with the distinct sound of armored steps thundering down the corridor.
Guards.
“Any ideas?” Cypress asked. “The tunnels are out of the question. We’ll get trapped like rats in there.”
He had something clutched in his hands, but it didn’t look like a… scepter.
Whatever it was was roughly the length of her forearm and about the width of her wrist.
“Is that what you came for?” Cypress asked.
Torren nodded.
Then the door was flung open, and the entire Prince guard strode through, Oswald at the helm.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Oswald asked while drawing his blade.
Panic began to settle into Cypress’s veins.
There was no way out.
She didn’t even have a weapon. Her sword was still sticking out of Cade’s chest, his blade some distance away from where she now stood.
There was no way she’d get to it before Oswald.
Torren’s hand found hers and squeezed it tight.
Cypress’s heart pounded, but she returned the press of Torren’s fingers.
And then, a clarion call sounded outside. The three lonesome howls of the Winged Hound.
Deja.
“Do you trust me?” Cypress whispered.
“What’s your plan?” he breathed back instantly.
“Follow my lead,” she said, then sprang into action.