Page 12 of The Fury She Holds
“Behind the swordsman! Backed against a wall.” Sybil leered at the apparition in front of her before running at him and ducking at the last minute. Her blade came up and connected with the figure’s middle. It doubled over, and she stabbed again until it fell. She yelled, cackled, and taunted each copy of a man. She threw her knives without looking and struck true. “He’s trapped if we don’t help him.”
Carrick fought with brute force, punching, slamming faceless heads into walls, and pulling bodies onto his short sword. “I thought that’s what we were doing!” he called back.
Rainer danced into view. He avoided a blow with a graceful spin, his weapon continuing the movement until it connected with flesh. He parried and side-stepped around assailants, slashing as he went, aiming for the most vulnerable points. In between jabs, he spoke under his breath at the next assailant, telling him to stab his own throat, then commanding the next to attack his fellow apparitions.
Beyond, Talwyn caught glimpses of a lone swordsman, dressed from head to toe in a deep red leather, his hood pulled back, a mask of the same color covering the lower half of his face. His dark, unkempt hair whipped this way and that as he fought, and his graceful form exposed a lifetime of practice. Tal took a moment to admire how expertly he dodged the attack of one apparition, using his momentum to slice through the chest of another, then bring his sword back around and sever the neck of the first. Tal whistled in admiration.
“There!” Sybil threw a knife toward the swordsman. An apparition stepped in its path, unaware of the flying weapon, and crumpled on the ground before it could take another step.
A few paces in front of the body sat a malnourished little girl about five years old, covered in dirt, grime, and blood spatters from the fighting. Her blonde hair would have been curly if it wasn’t matted. She sobbed, head swiveling back and forth between the swordsman and his attackers.
He fought well, taking on multiple assailants at once, but they outnumbered him five to one and backed him into a dead-end. They weren’t going to make it to the pair at this rate.
“Carrick! Make a path! Syb, take the lead!” Talwyn slipped on a dark puddle. She used the momentum to thrust her dagger into the nearest apparition.
With practiced familiarity, they regrouped and barreled through the enemy toward the lone swordsman. The onslaught of forest green assailants continued, with even more appearingat their backs where none had been before. Talwyn searched for the source, but they appeared out of thin air.
“Where the hells are they all coming from?” Carrick threw a cloaked figure to the ground.
“The mages!” Rainier blocked an overhead swing with the weapon in his right hand and stabbed under his attacker’s ribs with the one in his left.
“Find them! It won’t stop until we kill the mages!” Tal screamed as an apparition grazed her thigh with something sharp. She thanked him with a slice across his gut.
“There’s no time! Get the girl and get out!” Sybil’s voice grew hoarse.
Carrick swore and barreled further, pushing and stabbing. Sybil ran along the space on the wall, throwing knives, ducking, pausing, and side-stepping, until she crouched next to the child huddled in the corner, sobbing beside the red swordsman.
“Where the hells have you been?” he bellowed, felling one enemy after another. A gap in the surge afforded him the chance to breathe and his gaze locked with Talwyn’s. “It took you long enough!”
Confusion made Tal pause. “To your right!” she warned.
He threw up his sword just before being bludgeoned over the head. He stumbled back, swinging, and his blade hit its mark. He gave Tal a wink before returning to the fight.
Sybil protected the girl from an overhead blow. “You knew we were here.”
“I went ahead when I saw you enter the building,” was his reply between sword strikes.
“Let’s go Syb!” Tal ordered before avoiding an overhead attack. “They aren’t slowing down!” A cry rang out and Talwyn spun to find the source.
“RAIN!” Sybil’s voice dripped with fear.
Rainier pulled a dagger out of his ribcage.
Talwyn locked eyes with Sybil, willing her to search for a future.
“The mage. Third room. Go, now! Rain, get up!”
“Quit pestering me!” he yelled back, his brotherly banter eliminating any concern for his condition.
Tal found the room Sybil had indicated. The door held no window, but she trusted her friend wouldn’t send her to her death. She tore open the door and threw a knife into the darkness. A cry rang out as a searing pain clawed at her mind.
The clamor beyond the door lessened, and Carrick yelled to retreat. She thanked the gods and hoped they’d make it out safely. The pain increased, and she let out a strangled scream. Her fury begged to be let loose, but she couldn’t, not yet.
Two mages took the girl. If she used up all her energy on one, they would never make it out. She ignored the pain and ran into the room in the direction she threw her knife. She swiped in a wide arc, hoping the mage had no experience in battle and would be frozen in place. The gods must have favored her because she hit something soft, the pain in her head lessening. She slashed and stabbed again and again, stopping only when the pain dissipated completely.
“Tal! Time to go!” Carrick's voice carried over the fighting still going on.
“Leave you fool! What are you waiting for?” She leaned against the wall. A moment. She needed a moment to regain focus. Her mind felt fuzzy against the sudden deluge. She blinked away the lingering tears and breathed deeply, gagging on the stench of blood, garbage, and ash.
