Chapter 15
Algar and Torjack shoot to their feet. I stand, too, glad most of the unsteadiness has faded from my system.
“Absolutely not! Get out!” Rynthea bellows as she rounds the counter. “There will be no fighting in my inn!”
“There doesn’t have to be a fight,” the man leading the group says as he steps deeper into the tavern. “We just want the sorcerer.”
Rynthea raises her chin as Algar slips his hand down and snatches a knife out of the holster at his waist. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Rynthea squares her shoulders as she inches forward. “There is no sorcerer here. I don’t like them in my inn.”
“Cut the shit, minotaur!” the man barks. Rynthea’s brows knit together as her eyes flare. “Give us the sorcerer or we’ll destroy this whole fucking building and set it on fire!”
One of Rynthea’s eyes twitches as she glares at him. Then, oddly, almost eerily, a smile sweeps across her face.
“Okay.” She throws her hands in the air. “Fine. He’s not worth my business being destroyed. Let me go and get him.”
She wanders behind the counter again, past Penju, who is grimacing at the men, his spikes standing on end, appearing twice as lethal. When Rynthea disappears through the swinging door to the kitchen, I hear another door creak open in the distance.
Thane appears around the corner with his buffers splattered in blood. His sword, the blade dripping crimson, is in one of his hands. But the object in his other hand causes my breath to hitch.
It’s a man’s head.
And not just any man.
The stranger in the gray cloak who’d, only moments ago, been sitting on the other side of the inn staring at Thane.
“I believe this is yours.” Thane chucks the man’s head at the masked men. It hits the ground with a sickening splat and rolls to a stop at the feet of their leader.
The leader takes a step back from the head and rapidly draws a sword. “Valkor,” he growls, raising the blade in the air. “We’ve been looking for you.”
“I can see that, jackass.” Thane locks his eyes on me. “Go out the back. Get to Pearl and ride to safety with Algar. I’ll find you.”
“Fuck that,” Algar counters while Zephra flies out the nearest window. “I’m not letting you fight alone.”
“He won’t be!” Rynthea’s voice cuts through the room as she storms out of the kitchen, slides over the counter, and lands on the other side with the long handle of a scythesword firmly in her hand.
With one solid swing, she takes the leader’s head off with the curved blade, then swings around and slices through another one of the men, separating him clear in half.
“Gods. Not again.” I back away as a stunned moment of silence stretches through the inn and blood pools on the floor.
“Get outta here, Torjack. And take the girl with you,” Rynthea orders, disrupting the quiet. That’s enough to send the room into an absolute riot.
Thane zooms past me, joining Rynthea in the slicing and butchering, while Algar throws himself into the brawl with a battle cry. His limp doesn’t hold him back from a damn thing. He’s good at killing—maybe not as talented as Thane and Rynthea, but he damn sure knows how to defend himself.
“Come with me!” Torjack presses a hand to my back and guides me toward the hallway.
As we pass, I spot Penju whipping out a dagger with a sneer. He jumps on the counter and plunges it into the top of a man’s head.
Torjack runs with me through the hallway and makes his way toward the back exit.
“Wait!” I call. “My bag! I need my things.” I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to come back for them, especially if the building ends up being set on fire.
I have important items in there. Coins to get me through the rest of my travels.
A map. Allergy elixirs in case the pollen becomes unbearable.
“Hurry!” Torjack orders.
I dash into the room I woke up in, throw the wardrobe doors open, and retrieve my rucksack and satchel. After I strap them to me, I turn to face Torjack. A sharp gasp escapes me when a masked stranger appears behind him.
This person isn’t dressed like the others in the main area, who wear simple black masks and buffers. This man’s buffers and mask are stitched with red. His hair is as black as ink and slicked back, his skin nearly as white as the snow in Velkana.
With a flick of his hand, the stranger suspends Torjack in the air and throws him into the wall.
“No!” I yell. “Torjack!”
“A friend of yours?” The man cocks his head as he looks me up and down. “You’re the noble one, I see.”
I back away as he inches closer.
With a twist of his hand, a cold, solid grip of power wraps around my throat, and I’m suspended in the air once again. He pins me to the nearest wall, choking and squeezing as I struggle against his magic, desperate for breath.
Darkness seeps in around the edges of my vision as the man watches me with blazing blue eyes. I don’t think I can take it anymore.
Damn it.
I’m going to die afraid, alone, and useless. Choked to death by a man I don’t even know.
I’ll be dead.
Analla will be dead.
All of us will be dead and—
Rynthea appears in the doorway and stomps in, kicking the pale man in the lower back with a hoof.
He grunts as he stumbles forward, and his grip around my throat loosens. I collapse on the ground, landing on my hands and knees and gulping down as much air as physically possible.
Rynthea looks from the man to her brother, who is groaning in the corner of the room, struggling to get up. A growl builds in her throat as she whips her scythesword in a motion way too quick to capture and swings at the man.
The man dodges her strike with ease and kicks at her ankles, but she doesn’t buckle. Instead, she kicks him straight in the chest. His body crashes through the glass windows as I stagger to a stand, watching him land outside and flop a time or two.
“Torjack,” she breathes, rushing to her brother. She taps his cheek as he groans again. “Hey, Tor, you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m fine.”
“I told you to get your ass out of here!”
“She needed her bag!” Torjack retorts.
Rynthea looks back at me with a frustrated huff.
“I’m sorry.” My voice wavers as guilt consumes me. I didn’t mean for Torjack to get hurt. He could’ve died because of me.
Rynthea sighs. “It’s fine. Just get out of here. Both of you. Take the back exit and get to the bunker. I’ll meet you there when this is settled.”
When Torjack is on his hooves again, Rynthea leads the way out. Before we can even reach the middle of the hallway, though, another one of the masked men appears. She doesn’t hesitate taking him out. After cutting through him like warm butter, she storms ahead of us and shoves the back door open.
“Go!” she orders.
I run outside after Torjack but end up tripping over something and falling flat on my stomach.
My spectacles slide off the bridge of my nose as I land on the ground.
Then an unknown object wraps tightly around my ankle.
I look back and see the blur of the masked man with the red stitching again.
He holds up a stiff hand and reels me toward him like I’m a fish on a hook.
Rynthea roars as she jumps over me to attack him. An onslaught begins as three more people appear. Somehow, through all the mayhem, the man with red stitching holds my ankle steady while fighting Rynthea off with whorls of blue and smoke.
“Come on, Zaira!” Torjack yells.
“I can’t!” I scream. “He has my ankle! I can’t move!”
“Shit!” Torjack curses.
Someone flies out the back door, across the field, and slams into the ground with a thud only a few inches away from me. They’re bloodied and dead…definitely dead. My hand searches desperately for my spectacles, but the body has landed on top of them.
“No!” I wail. “No, no, no!” I shove the man’s leg off of them, only to see shattered lenses. I start to grab them, but someone beats me to it and snatches them up. Another masked person. A woman.
She tugs her mask down to sneer at me. “Can’t see? What a shame.” She tosses them in Torjack’s direction, then lifts her sword, about to bring it down on me until another sword penetrates her chest, driving straight through her heart.
“Get out of here, Quinlocke!” I hear Thane shout.
Of course he’s killed the woman with precision like that.
The woman crumples to her knees, then her head slams into the ground.
I feel the grip around my ankle weaken when someone lets out a loud yell. I’m not entirely sure, but based on their blurry silhouettes, I think Rynthea has just injured the man with red stitching.
When the grip completely vanishes, I crawl around the dead person who taunted me to find my specs, spreading my fingers over the cold dirt in search of them. Finally, I spot them, but someone else picks them up before I can reach them.
My heart drops, until I quickly realize it’s Torjack.
He offers me a hand. “Come on. I’ll guide you. Just hold my hand.”
Torjack helps me up, and we scurry away. I steal a glance over my shoulder and am almost positive I see Thane snatching a sword out of the woman who just teased me about not being able to see.
What a bitch.
Not my fault Orvena gave me eyesight that’s weak at best.
We can’t all be winners.
Fortunately, the man with red stitching is nowhere in sight.
“Bunker is right over here,” Torjack says, panting. He points ahead, but it’s useless. I can’t see anything clearly past his arm. The towering trees are a blur of green and brown, the sky seems farther away, and the sun feels twice as bright.
The commotion behind us has doubled.
Wood splinters.
A man cries out.
Someone hollers in pain.
Fortunately, it doesn’t sound like any of the people fighting for us.
Finally stopping, Torjack bends down and touches the ground, swiping leaves until he comes across a metal handle. I make out a hatch covered in moss and grass. He hauls it open, and I squint my eyes, trying to see what’s down there, but it’s completely dark.
“We have to go down the steps one person at a time as there’s not much room.” Torjack faces me. “It’ll be a little dark, but there’s nothing terrible down there, I promise. You go first. I’m right behind you.”
I place my feet on the first stone step.
“Just grip the rail there. Yep, right there,” Torjack instructs as I reach for the built-in railing. I hold on tight, taking each step one at a time, until the soles of my boots meet softer ground.
Torjack joins me after shutting and locking the hatch. Darkness consumes us. I feel him slip past me, his fur brushing my arm, before he rummages around a bit. A clicking noise echoes, and the bunker flickers with light.
“How long has this place been here?” I squint, trying to decipher what is what. I move closer to a towering piece in the corner to see it’s a shelf lined with books. Next to it is a table for four. I run my fingers over the smooth top and rub the tips together. They’re free of dust. Used recently.
“A while. This is the Kamtaur bunker,” Torjack says, and based on his tone, it sounds like he’s smiling.
“We hide out here when we get news about riots happening in Ruvain, or when an alert goes out that beastials are being hunted. Rynthea hates it down here, but it’s saved our lives more times than I can count. ”
“That’s awful, living that way. Being hunted and all.”
“Yeah. It is. Sadly, you get used to it.” Torjack shifts closer and pulls a chair out for me. “Go on, sit. Rynthea will show up. I’m sure she’ll slaughter the lot of them. Same for that dark, grumpy friend of yours. Hope Algar makes it out, though. He thinks he’s stronger than he actually is.”
“I hope so, too,” I murmur, clinging to faith they’ll make it out alive.
Torjack takes the seat next to mine so I can better see his face.
“Here.” Torjack opens his hand and holds up my specs. He helps me slide them on.
“Yeah. I can’t see a damn thing,” I gripe. “Everything’s a kaleidoscope.”
“Just means you get to see multiples of this handsome face,” Torjack teases. I don’t know how he can joke during a time like this, swarmed by chaos and madness. Then again, it’s like he said. He’s gotten used to it.
I yank the shattered specs off, fighting the stupid urge to cry. If I can’t see, how am I going to make it to the temple now? It’s not like spectacle designers are on every corner of Thelanor, and even if there were, they don’t come cheap.
The floodgates of frustration open. I might as well give up and return to Meriva. Maybe if I go back now and request new spectacles, I’ll still have time to make it to the Temple of Elphar.
But I don’t want to go back. And I definitely don’t want to go through Ruvain again.
“Hey,” Torjack calls.
I look at him.
“It’ll be okay.”
I shake my head. “Not if I can’t see.” I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, blinking my tears away. As badly as I want to, I can’t do so here. I’ll think of a solution. I always do. But I won’t be able to proceed without that ruthless shadow assassin at my side.
I strain my ears, wishing to know what’s happening at the inn, wishing I could do something. The feeling of helplessness has my stomach twisted in knots. It’s probably twice as bad for Torjack, though he doesn’t show it.
I swallow down the feeling and focus on what I can control.
“Why don’t you and Rynthea move to Meriva instead?” I ask. “Or another kingdom that doesn’t allow the hunting of beastials?”
“Well, Kamtaur has been in our family since before we were born. My mother and father opened it together.” Torjack sighs and clears his throat.
“My mother grew sick and died when we were in our eighth year. My father became sad thereafter. He showed us the ropes of running Kamtaur when we were in our fourteenth year so we could take over one day. He died when we were in our eighteenth year, and ever since then, Rynthea has been trying to keep the place alive. She has way too much hope for weak or failing things, despite how powerful she is.”
He shifts in his chair uncomfortably, and my heart aches for him.
“But I know a lost cause when I see one,” he continues. “My sister believes Kamtaur Inn should stay open, despite the danger, but I tell her all the time it won’t stand for much longer. Sooner or later, they won’t care for the rules and will burn that place down just to get to us.”
“That’s so unfair. You shouldn’t have to live like this.”
“That’s life for you, huh?”
A thump sounds at the hatch door. Our eyes widen as we look at each other. He stands up and reaches for what looks like a pitchfork in the corner, then remains a few steps back from the opening of the hatch.
I stay seated with bated breath.