Page 39 of The Fury She Holds
With a deep breath and flip of her weapons, she pulled the curtain aside with her left hand, threw the dagger in her right across the bed, choosing to aim for the man’s chest for a wider target. Before it hit, the dagger in her left hand soared toward the door, this time finding home in the second man’s throat, his faceless head turning to her as blood gushed over his cloak.
She spared only a glance as he slumped to the ground. Then she turned back to the enemy at the bed. A hand lifted, his bloody knife pointed in her direction. His head suddenly snapped back, the hilt of her third dagger sticking out where his eye socket would have been. Tal stepped to the side of the bed where the girl, about sixteen, panted. “Nola?”
“Please. Please help me,” she begged. Her clothes bore evidence of the torture she’d been subjected to; cuts and bruises littered every visible inch of her body. A sheen of sweat coated her face, and her cheeks were sunken from malnourishment.
“We’re getting you out of here.” Tal attempted to cut the ropes tying the girl to the bed, but nothing happened.
“They’re spelled. You can’t cut them,” the girl cried weakly.
“I’ve got it,” came a voice from behind her. Faron slipped into the room. His hood covered his eyes. He pulled a small vial of yellow liquid out of the satchel on his back, the same one thehealer had given him, and poured three drops onto the bonds at Nola’s hands. “Careful, this will burn if you touch it.”
A fiery yellow glow spread from the spot where the drops soaked into the bindings. The ropes sizzled, emitting a green smoke that smelled of sulfur. Slowly, the rope turned black and then disintegrated where the liquid soaked through. Soon, the bindings broke apart, and Nola’s hand fell from its bonds. Faron made quick work of the other three restraints. Tal’s fury pressed into her chest and ached as if it recognized the liquid.
When Nola was free, Faron hefted her over his shoulder and went to the window. Tal stepped back into the room and pulled her daggers out of the mage and apparition. She wiped their blood onto their cloaks. Like all men, the mages bled red. The coppery smell gave no indication of the dark magic it summoned.
Her eye caught the burned bindings on the bedpost, and she paused. She carefully picked up the charred end of one of the restraints, noting how the remaining magic made the hair on her arms stand on end. She could feel the fury within the solution Faron used. Her own fury called to it.
Biting her lip, she reached for the bedpost and placed the tip of her finger against the magicked knot. She thought of the yellow glow of the solution as it ate through the spell and the rope together. She focused all her fury into her fingertip pressed there. The warmth in her chest trickled over her shoulder, down her arm, and reached her finger. She thinned her lips and flared her nostrils when the fury pushed into the knot. The rope began to sizzle. The charred smell reached her nose again as she watched her magic burn through the spelled restraints. A faint smile reached her lips.
The creaking door interrupted her thoughts, and she spun around, throwing a spike of flame without thinking. Her shot blasted into the door frame and sent splinters flying. Before shecould attack again, the mage in the opening flung his robed arm in her direction, and her legs gave out. She tried to stand to no avail. The mage attacked again, and warmth spread down her arms.
She sat on the floor, her legs folded under her, her arms limp at her sides, and the pain hit. Her gaze fell, and she realized he’d sliced her open with each slash of his arm. Blood pooled beneath her, and dizziness consumed her. She struggled to stay upright when the mage stepped toward her, cupped her chin in his hands, and met her eyes. With his hood pulled back, she saw a middle-aged man, the hair at his temple graying from near black. His wrinkles deepened as his lips pulled into a wicked grin.
“Ah. I see we’ve had the wrong one all along. You weren’t nearly as difficult as I thought you’d be.”
Tal swayed, fighting to stay conscious.
He clicked his tongue and waved his hand, casting a spell that froze Tal in place, her back held straight by an invisible post. The weight of the spell bared down on her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. Copper filled her nose as blood warmed her legs where it pooled on the floor.
“Do you know—” The mage stopped and fell backward, the hilt of a dagger protruding from his skull.
The freezing spell cracked, and Tal collapsed. A familiar voice behind her swore, and Tal’s eyes fluttered closed. Someone pulled her upright and a warm liquid trickled across her lips.
“Swallow.”
More liquid met her tongue, and she choked on it.
“Swallow, dammit,” the voice commanded.
Tal obeyed and quickly felt the pain in her limbs cease, but her moment of reprieve was short-lived. Her eyes shot open from the shock of fire that wasn’t her own shooting up and down her limbs. A red, leather-clad shoulder pushed painfully intoher stomach. Her legs were pinned against his chest. Her mind screamed in agony, but her body lacked the energy to react.
“Hold on,” the familiar voice said.
Tal closed her eyes against the dizziness and pain. When she opened them again, the floor disappeared, and she hung four stories above the ground. She blinked, her mind an exhausted blank space, before closing her eyes again and letting her head fall against his back.
“You know, I’m beginning to think there’s something between us, what with you falling into my arms every time we meet.”
“Do you ever stop talking?” Tal managed to groan. The healing magic burned and itched as it stitched her back together. Her energy slowly returned as the pain lessened.
“Just making sure you’re still with me,” Faron said, relief in his voice. He continued their descent.
As they neared the ground, Carrick burst from the trees.
“What in the hells happened?” he demanded, reaching up to help Tal.
“Distracted,” she offered in response. When she met his eyes, Carrick’s widened, and he discreetly tapped his temple. Understanding dawned, and Tal dropped her gaze to the ground.No red. No gold. No fire.Her fury must have burned through Septimus’s serum, letting the golden color of her eyes shine in the limited moonlight.
A shout from the fourth-story window pulled their attention. A blast of magic shattered the wall of ivy behind them and sent debris flying.
