Page 62 of Star Bringer
“I suggest the rest of you leave. Now.”
There’s another flash and the sound of running feet.
I blink my eyes open to see Ian looming over me. “You really shouldn’t wander off, Princess.”
I just stare up at him, trying to find my voice in the swirl of pain and relief.
“Are you all right?” He’s starting to sound worried. “Can you move? We have to go because they’ll be back. Probably with a shitload of reinforcements.”
“Y-You didn’t count to three,” I tell him. It’s the only thing I can think of to say that doesn’t have me blubbering all over him.
At first he doesn’t seem to get what I’m referring to, but then he lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, they weren’t playing fair. Why shouldI?”
It’s a good point, so I simply push myself up into a sitting position, then let out a little squeak of surprise and revulsion.
There’s a dead man next to me. A laser blast has taken out half of his chest, and it’s still smoking. I swallow down the newest round of bile, scooting back as fast as my still-shaking legs can push me.
Part of me thinks I should be sorry—death is a terrible thing—but the truth is, I’m not. He was a truly horrible man. I can still hear his creepy laughter, can still feel his boot pressing down on my back as he hinted at some seriously sinister plans for me.
“Come on now, Princess. Give me a bit of that attitude. That stiff royal backbone you’re so proud of.” Ian still sounds worried as he holds out a hand to help me up.
I stare at it for a second, not sure if I should take it. But then I remember he spent all afternoon leading me around by the hand. It seems ridiculous to worry about the rules now. Especially because: “Apparently, I’m not a princess after all. I’m just pretending.”
He snorts as I grasp his hand and let him pull me to my feet. “Can you run?”
I want to tell him that of course I can, but my back is still throbbing. I release his hand and say, “I think so.”
He’s picking up the bags I dropped when they attacked me. “Good. Then let’s go.”
The first couple of steps are agony, but I grit my teeth and take it, because the alternative is still being here when they come back, and I quite strongly don’t want that to happen. But as we turn the corner, I hear a shout from behind us.
It only takes a few seconds before other people join in, until the whole street sounds like a pack of baying prupples.
“Shit,” Ian growls. He picks up speed, and I grab the skirt of my robe and run like my life depends on it, ignoring the pain that continues to shoot through me. It’s nothing compared to what I’ll feel if they catch us, and I know it.
Ian rockets down an alley, then hesitates. “Fuck,” he growls, and it’s not hard to figure out why he’s upset. The shouts are getting louder.
“Onto the roof,” he orders.
I repeat the words in my head, but they make no sense.Onto the roof.How does he expect us to get up there? Fly? “I’m sorry?”
“We have to get on the roof.” He looks around. “You can climb on that refuse bin, then swing up.”
“I—I can’t.” I shake my head vehemently. Climbing has never been my thing. My physical education tutors couldn’t bribe or punish me into the simplest wall-climbing exercise as a child. Plus, my ribs hurt so badly, I’m almost sobbing. “I’ll never make it that high.”
“Never say never, Princess.” He wraps his hands around my waist and pretty much lifts me on top of the bin before levering himself up next to me.
I take a deep breath, then immediately regret it. The bin stinks like nothing I’ve ever smelled before. Ian doesn’t seem to notice as he tosses the bags onto the roof, then grips the edge and swings himself up. He makes it look so easy. But he’s taller than me and I suspect a good deal stronger.
“Come on,” he says. “You can do it.”
But I can’t. I try several times, and I can’t even reach the edge, my blood pulsing in my head with each throb of my midsection. “Just go,” I tell him. “You’re running out of time.”
For a moment, I fully expect him to disappear and leave me—it’s what I did to him earlier, after all. But then he drops to his stomach and hangs over the edge, holding his right arm out to me.
He’s giving me a literal lifeline, and I don’t have to be asked twice. I grab onto his hand and jump as Ian heaves. For a second, I’m dangling over the bin, feet kicking wildly in all directions. Then the roof is right there in front of me. I grab the edge with my free hand while he grips the back of my robe with his. Then we’re both pulling up, up, up, and then I’m over. I land on my face, then quickly roll over to my back, my entire body throbbing with pain.
“Thank—”
