Page 50 of Vasmora

As he swung for my head, the blade shifted in an abnormal jerk out of his hands that sent it flying in the other direction, where it lodged into the neck of the whip-wielding guard standing alongside Loyce. The whip wielder collapsed to his knees, the sword still sticking from his neck when his face smacked against the white marble, blood pouring across the floor.

Loyce stared down at her fellow soldier, hands clenched to fists. Her body trembled with the kind of fury that could fell a village. “Seize her!”

Instinct drove me toward those doors on the opposite side of the rotunda, and as one of the Orgoths barreled toward me, I darted in the other direction, skirting the massive swipe of his hand. Eyes on the guard blocking the doorway ahead of me, my mind calculated how I’d possibly get past him. He turned toward me, squaring himself in his bulky armor, ready to swipe me up. As he lurched in my direction, I dropped to my knees, and the second I did, a flash of gold streaked just above my head.

I didn’t bother to see which of the guards chasing after me had casted it.

The golden shimmer coiled around the guard’s neck, and his eyes popped wide, fingers clawing for the binding at his throat.

I scrambled on hands and knees, slipping between his legs.

The moment I broke through to the corridor, I sprang to my feet and ran in no particular direction. Servants holding trays froze in place as I rounded them.

“Cistern!” I screamed as I passed.

“Just ahead,” one called back.

The whiz of something flying past my ear drew my attention toward an object striking the wall ahead of me, lodging itself into the stone.

An arrowhead.

I only managed a glance over my shoulder, but saw two guards chasing after me, one of them drawing back his hand, a glyph there glowing in the dark corridor.

The moment I turned back around, I collided full force with a massive body blocking my path. The armor slammed into my nose, a shooting pain traveling to my sinuses as I bounced backward, landing square on my tailbone.

I looked up to see Captain Drefan standing over me, that wretched smirk playing on his lips. Not sparing him another second, I scrambled forward between his legs, but felt a piercing pain at the back of my thigh.

“Gods be damned!” I cried, falling onto my side, still trapped between his legs. Within seconds, a thick tingling crawled up the back of my leg. I reached down and plucked the arrow from where it had stuck itself into my flesh, and as I held it up, the object, dripping with blood, blurred, doubling before my eyes.

A numbing cold crawled over my chest, and I dropped the object, flopping onto my stomach with a grunt. I clawed at the ground, trying to propel myself forward. Desperate for escape.

My surroundings narrowed, the walls nothing more than a black curtain in my periphery.

Please!

I’d managed to kill two of her guards. There would be no mercy after this.

My body was hauled into the air, my arms useless and bulky, as if weighed at my fingertips by anchors. Eyelids heavy, I stared down at the stone floor slipping beneath me.

Until it slipped into blackness.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DOLION

Dolion sat at the table in Eidolon’s library, flipping through texts he’d taken from Corvus Keep months ago.

Allura groaned from the chair opposite and rubbed her temple.

“Everything all right?” he asked, watching her rub skeletallow over a short stretch of a spinal column she’d been studying.

“Rykaia introduced me to Ambrozhyr last night. It seems I’m paying the price for it today.”

Dolion raised a brow. “You mean to tell me you’ve never indulged in the nectar of the gods before?”

“No, and I doubt I will again.” She lowered her face, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Though, admittedly, it was … somewhat fun.”

“I’ve always admired your discipline. But I do believe a little harmless fun is required from time to time.”