Page 74 of Reap & Sow

Air fled the chamber. Clamoring footsteps echoing down the prison steps and along the walls. Eda’s dread turned ice-cold.

“Look for a way to get that door open.” Kit bared his teeth. “I’ll hold them off.”

She grabbed his wrist. “Don’t…don’t die.”

His expression softened. “Since you asked so nicely, darling.”

Then he was gone.

“Hurry,” Lawrie said, pushing aside crates, running his hands over the walls. “There has to be something here. A lever, or something like it.”

They searched frantically. If they couldn’t get this door open, they were trapped. Eda wasn’t convinced that even Kit could get them past a gang of Blades in such tight quarters. Would they be killed on the spot, or simply returned to a cell? Beyond the doorway, she heard the sounds of yelling. The scrape of metal on stone. Muffled screams.

Shit. Shit.

The room was cluttered with old junk. They didn’t even know what to look for.

Eda almost stepped on Tripp. “Watch your—”

“Here, humans!” The imp pulled at a long rack of weaponry stacked against the wall. Eda helped him. The whole rack tipped over, sending spears and crossbow bolts rolling over the floor.

And behind it, a small, protruding stone. Eda smacked it with the heel of her hand.

Thunk.

Somewhere behind the basalt, the muffled sound of old iron chains rattled and groaned. The stone door scraped sideways on metal tracks, disappearing into a cleverly disguised chamber within the wall.

“Tripp, you magnificent imp! How did you know it was there?”

“Mortal eyesight is piteous. How did you not?”

Horrid creature. She could kiss him.

“Quick.” Ben ushered them into the dark passage.

A distant pained cry stopped Eda in her tracks.

Kit.

She turned.

“Eda!”

“I’m right behind you. Just—I need to…” No time to explain. She snatched up a fallen crossbow and a single bolt. Ben’s outraged hiss chased her out the door. Eda scrambled to load the bolt, having only ever seen it done in passing, and crept down the hallway. Peered around the corner. Her knees threatened to give out.

Blood. Lots of it. A woman had died still clutching her sword, belly split open and spilling ropy meat across the floor. Her mouth hung ajar, eyes staring. Another man lay slumped where his open skull was lodged around a cell bar. There was no time to appreciate the sheer savagery of it all, for then Eda spotted Kit.

He was a dark shape beneath Tenelle Martine’s boot. His human guise was gone; only bared fangs and gray skin and swooping horns remained. At first Eda couldn’t make sense of it—why he lay prone beneath the commander—until she saw Tenelle’s gleaming blade buried in his forearm, pinning it to the stone. The wound hissed and smoked.

Eda had seen Kit in pain before, but not like this. His eyes shone with unshed tears. His grimace was fierce as he bared his fangs, tail whipping against the floor. Five more Blades had come. One stood upon Kit’s other arm. Another drew his sword, ready to go for the heart.

Eda loosed her bolt.

She was a poor shot, barely grazing the Blade’s shoulder and clipping Tenelle’s breastplate. But it was enough. Kit used Tenelle’s shock to wrap his tail about her foot and yank it out from under her; she crashed to the floor. The man pinning his arm was knocked aside. Perhaps Kit could not transform with a silver sword in his arm, because he wrenched it out with a labored snarl. He slashed it at the Blades, forcing a retreat.

“Go!” Kit cried.

Eda realized he meant her. She ran, quickly overtaken by a black cat trailing blood as they sprinted for the storage room. Ben reeled when he saw them coming. They piled into the dark, narrow passage.