Chapter 4 #3
Tal’s hands flew to his chest, and she winced at a sharp pain in her leg. “Yes, they’re created by the mage. Didn’t you see they were faceless?” Her eyes flicked to the arms still wrapped around her and back to his face just in time to see his own eyes leave her mouth.
“I was too busy slicing and dicing,” he responded and Talwyn rolled her eyes. “A mage?”
She pushed away from him and let out an exasperated sigh. Placing her hands on her knees to hide their shaking, she took a moment to muster the energy to climb the chimney. “Lords, did you throw yourself into this mess without a moment of planning? Did you know anything before coming here?”
He crossed his arms, and the muscles strained against the material of his suit. “I knew a child had been taken by four men. I can take on twice as many without injury. It should have been easy to save her,” he said, all playfulness gone from his voice.
“Lucky for you, her brother thought to come find me. Otherwise, you both would be floating in the Taralin by sunrise.” Talwyn pushed off her knees and eyed the opening.
“And what makes you so fearsome that he would seek you out?”
“Pray you never find out, highness,” she used the name again and noticed the muscle along his jaw tense. “Come. Lift me up. We haven’t got much time. If the mage ventures out of his hiding spot, we’re done for.”
“You’re going to tell me about this mage when we get out of here.” He cupped his hands again and lifted her, higher this time, so she could pull herself into the chimney.
“Thank the gods,” she sighed. The brick-and-mortar chimney supplied enough inlets to wedge her fingers and feet. “Give me your belt,” she called down.
He tossed the well-made leather up to her, something she considered stealing once they escaped.
It would fetch enough coin for almost a month of meals.
Using the hilt of one of her thicker knives, she banged another into the mortar, the loop of the belt held within the blade, a makeshift rope for the swordsman to pull himself up.
Her limbs shook with the effort of holding herself after sustaining injuries and using her fury with such concentration on the door.
It need only hold a little longer. Then, the apparitions could barge in all they wanted. They would find no one in the room.
She ignored the pain of her injuries, placing her remaining knife in its sheath, and made the slow climb up the chimney, which, thankfully, was only a few shaky steps before she reached the opening at the top.
She pulled herself up over the ledge and toppled out onto the sloped roof, barely holding onto the brick chimney to keep from sliding off.
The swordsman followed her with much more grace and handed her the other knife, having pulled it out of the mortar.
She noted he once again wore his belt. Damn, she swore to herself.
I’ll have to steal it another way. “Clever thinking, given that I’m terrible at jumping. ” He pulled her to stand and beamed.
Talwyn swayed on her feet, and he held her middle to steady her.
“Are you injured?” His eyes scanned her body.
She waved away his concern. She still didn’t know who this man was, or what his connections were. It was best if she kept her power-induced exhaustion a secret and he thought of her as a fighter out of the slums.
He searched for a way down. “How far is your refuge?” he asked. “Where are you meeting your friends?” he added when she arched a brow at his word choice.
“If we can make it to the tunnels, we should be able to go undetected,” she breathed. The longer they delayed, the less likely she would be able to make it back on her own two feet.
The man steadied her briefly before stepping to the edge. He shook his head. “There’s no way around it. We’re too high up. We’ll have to jump into the river. Can you swim?”
“Fabulous,” Talwyn said. The incinerator sat atop a fifteen-foot cliff above the Taralin River.
With the height of the roof, they had at least a thirty-foot drop, with a necessary ten-foot leap outward if they didn’t want to splatter across the rocks below.
Then there was the added problem of the current.
The northern ocean fed into the river and encouraged the waters south into the temperate seas.
Metal groaned in the room below. “I’ll take that as a yes,” the swordsman said. He reached below her shoulder with one arm, steadied himself, and they ran full speed toward the edge of the roof, leaping at the last moment.
Talwyn didn’t have time to think of the drop.
She only felt the deep relief in her legs when she no longer had to bear her own weight.
Her companion reached around as they fell and gripped her belt.
When they crashed into the water, his arm ripped from under her shoulder, but a tug at her waist told her he held fast to her belt.
The icy water was painful enough to make her gasp, but her exhaustion kept her mouth shut against the wave that crashed over her head.
Her limbs wouldn’t respond. She was dead weight, and sleep called to her.
The cold eased her further into it like a gentle embrace against her aching muscles and lacerations.
She had almost forgotten all the slices she had received.
Carrick wouldn’t be happy about that. He would be even more unhappy that she was about to let herself drown.
Hells, he’d bring her back from the dead simply to kill her again out of anger.
She imagined what he would say as sleep threatened to pull her under.
A watery roar and a gasp interrupted her peaceful thoughts. The maroon swordsman had pulled them both to the surface, even with her dead weight against him. “Hells, woman, I thought you said you could swim?” He had her back pinned against his chest with an arm looped under her own.
“I never said I could,” she drawled sleepily with much effort.
“Is that sarcasm? She has a sense of humor? Lords, take me away before I sell myself to the devils for her.”
Talwyn’s lips twitched, and she let the infuriating man pull her to safety, for even if she wanted to help herself, her body had finally given out, and the darkness consumed her.