Blood Legacy: Heir to the Throne (33 page)

BOOK: Blood Legacy: Heir to the Throne
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Victor and his group of warriors were creeping across the huge courtyard. Other groups were fanning out, pressed against walls and disappearing into shadows. Victor could see several begin to climb upward. No alarm had been sounded yet. He felt Kusunoki’s hand on his arm.

“How are we going to find her?” Kusunoki whispered to him.

Victor was slightly embarrassed. This part of the plan had been somewhat vague in his mind.

“I rather thought she would make herself known,” he whispered back.

A tremendous creaking sound coming from above attracted all attention, including the watch guard. Both Kusunoki and Victor looked upward. A huge section of rock wall, strangely shaped in a geometric pattern, appeared to be peeling outward from the citadel.

Victor looked back at Kusunoki. “Something like that,” he said in a furious whisper.

Kusunoki grinned as the alarm was sounded.

Susan stared at Ryan in amazement, at last understanding. For weeks, if not months, Ryan had been carefully carving out the grout lines of the wall, weakening the structural integrity of a huge section. As Ryan pushed outward with her incredible strength, the entire wall began to give way in one great piece, falling outward. Susan felt a blast of cold air as an enormous portion of the room fell away.

Ryan stood in front of the gaping hole, a look of satisfaction on her face. She brushed her hands together, then turned back toward Susan and her son.

“I think we should probably be leaving now.”

Susan jumped as the alarm sounded. It echoed loudly in the room because the chamber was now open to the outdoors. Ryan gestured toward her impatiently. Susan grabbed Drake, and joined Ryan at the opening. Ryan took Drake from her as Susan gazed into what appeared to be an endless abyss.

“How exactly are we going to get down from here?” Susan asked uneasily.

Ryan looked straight down. There was a terrace beneath them, perhaps a hundred foot drop, easy for her to manage even with extra weight. She shifted Drake into one arm and lifted Susan bodily from the ground with the other.

“Keep your feet up,” Ryan instructed, then jumped.

Susan screamed the entire time they fell, which seemed to be several days. Ryan landed solidly on both feet. Cracks in the marble spread outward from the force of her landing.

“You know,” Ryan said mildly, standing upright, “it’s going to difficult to escape with you screaming the whole time.”

Ryan set her back on her feet and Susan hit her in the arm. Drake just kicked his feet in delight.

“You want to do that again?” Ryan asked him, laughing, and he wriggled in joy.

“We are not,” Susan said with emphasis, straightening her clothing, “doing that again.”

Ryan shrugged. “Very well,” she replied, glancing around in an attempt to get some type of bearing.

“Would you mind telling me what is going on?” Susan asked. It seemed there was a lot of commotion, even for the stunt Ryan had just pulled.

Ryan started down the hallway, gesturing for Susan to follow her. “My father is here,” Ryan said.

Susan stopped. “Victor is here?”

Ryan again gestured to her impatiently to keep up, and Susan complied.

“They are all here,” Ryan said, extending her senses outward for the first time. She could not afford to do so continuously, because it would alert her enemy to her location, but she did so now with great joy. She smiled to herself, sensing Saladin and his men. “All of them.”

Susan’s head was spinning as she tried to keep up both physically and metaphorically. “So, do you have a plan?”

Ryan nodded. “I have to find the armory. It is our only hope of equalizing this battle.”

Victor was already engaged in pitched battle in the courtyard. He was not certain if it was fortunate or unfortunate, but the combat was primarily hand-to-hand. Once the alarm had sounded, guards swarmed the central square, and Victor and the Others had quickly discovered their weapons were useless against Madelyn’s men. Strangely, the guards carried no weapons themselves, so the fighting was brutal, face-to-face brawling.

Their adversaries were viciously strong, and Victor did not know how long they could last under these conditions. They currently had their foe outnumbered because they had caught the fortress completely by surprise, but Victor knew it was only a matter of time before the entire force was assembled. Once that happened, he knew they would begin to fall.

He sensed that Ryan was fleeing through the stronghold, and that she had some sort of destination in mind. Wherever she was headed, it gave Ryan some sort of hope. He gestured to Kusunoki to follow him, and he began fighting in that direction.

Ryan went skidding around a corner, then leaped back the way she had come just in time to collide with Susan, sending her to the ground. Ryan put her finger to her lips, silencing Susan’s protest, then helped her to her feet. She handed Drake to Susan, then cautiously peered around the corner.

There were several guards milling about down the hallway, but they had not seen her. Ryan turned back to Susan, wordlessly indicating they should go back the way they came. They began inching down the hallway, but this route of escape was quickly blocked as well as several guards gathered. Ryan’s only other choice was another open terrace, and Susan followed her uneasily. She was not looking forward to another jump.

Ryan started onto the vast terrace, but stopped abruptly. A single guard stood with his back to them. Ryan gestured for Susan to wait, then stealthily approached the guard from behind. Uncertain exactly what to do and definitely certain she could not defeat the guard by strength alone, she noticed he was wearing a necklace made of the same strange material the weapons and needle had been made of. Without hesitation, she grasped the necklace with both hands and garroted the guard. So strong was the material and so desperate was her attack that his head was nearly severed by the strike. He slumped to the ground.

Ryan gestured for Susan to join her. She glanced down into the melee below, searching for her father with both preternatural vision and extrasensory concentration. She sensed him before she saw him, and quickly tried to communicate. She turned to Susan, articulating the message aloud in case it had not been received.

“There must be an armory here,” Ryan said urgently, “if something happens to me or we are separated, the Others must find the weapons. That is our only hope.”

Susan nodded fearfully. If something happened to Ryan, she was not certain there was any hope.

Ryan glanced around, searching for a way down. But before she could identify an escape from the terrace, a group of guards crowded through the doorway. They raised a great cry, and Ryan could hear additional guards begin to respond to their location. Ryan, in frustration, pushed Susan behind her for protection. Susan cradled Drake in her arms, realizing they were trapped.

The guards stared at them contemptuously and Ryan’s frustration increased. She glanced around her, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon, then looked down at the dead guard at her feet.

She looked back up, and very slowly smiled.

The guards shifted uncomfortably, glancing down to see what had given her such great pleasure. Their expressions fell.

The guard Ryan had killed was holding a sword in his hand, one he had drawn but been unable to use so swiftly had she killed him. The soldiers standing in the entryway again shifted uneasily. They had seen what this one could do with a sword. They drew their weapons, but without the confidence such a superior force should possess.

The sun pierced the thick cloud cover, bathing the terrace in filtered light. Ryan charged the group. The sunlight glinted off her blue-steel sword as she sprinted toward them. The glint caught the attention of several below, who looked upward, and began fighting in her direction.

Ryan clashed with the first wave violently, and should have been dead at first contact, but surprisingly, the fearsome soldiers began to fall before the flashing blade. Blood spattered her arm and she glanced down in surprise. The blood burned her skin like a mild acid, and although she began to heal almost immediately, the effect was distracting because it was so unexpected. She pushed the phenomenon from her mind, and renewed her battle, amputating a nearby arm, then taking a leg off at the knee.

The soldiers backed off, their numbers depleted but still able to surround her. Others appeared and fell in behind them, reinforcing their numbers, and the soldiers were emboldened. There were now more opponents than she had started with. Ryan took that moment to re-assess her situation. Her gaze fell upon the weapon of a nearby fallen enemy, and without hesitation, she flipped the blade upward, catching it in her free hand. She adjusted her stance, and with flowing grace, settled into a fighting style that favored the use of both swords. Her pleasure at the additional weapon was evident, her lack of fear pronounced, and at the intricate, skillful display, the expressions of the surrounding guards again fell.

The guards attacked, and Ryan should have been overwhelmed by sheer force, but somehow the flashing sword was always there, blocking an attack, deflecting a blow, or slicing outward with devastating effect.

Susan, clutched Drake, watching Ryan’s lethality in astonishment. With the strength of these men and their overpowering numbers, Ryan should have long since fallen. Yet not only was she holding her own, she appeared to be winning. Soldier after soldier fell while Ryan, a study of concentration, slowly beat them back. With one last, great blow, Ryan decapitated the last guard on the terrace, and he fell to a kneeling position, then sprawled onto the heap of bodies.

Ryan turned back to Susan and took a few steps toward her. She heard footsteps and scuffling behind her, and Susan’s expression told her all she needed to know. She stopped, heaving a sigh.

“There are a lot more behind me, aren’t there?” Ryan asked.

Ryan did not wait for Susan’s reply; she did not need to. She turned around, shifting her weight slightly as she assessed the new force.

It was easily twice the size of the previous. The soldiers crowded forward. Although the sight of their fallen comrades was daunting, the girl could not possibly prevail against such superior numbers. A simple all-out charge would suffice to take her down.

Ryan seemed to sense this as she gazed at the force, and she lowered her swords. The guards recognized the hesitation, and many grinned with predatory anticipation. Like a pack of wolves, they shifted forward slightly, awaiting only the signal from the alpha.

Although Ryan clearly communicated her negative assessment of the current odds, she did not evidence any concern. This gave the men pause, and they glanced at her uncertainly. Their uncertainty grew when she nonchalantly toyed with a sword on the ground in front of her, touching it with the blade of her own. She could not possibly utilize three swords.

Ryan carefully lifted the blade, balancing it on her own swords while elevating it to chest height. Although the sound of the battle below could be heard, the metallic noise of the blades sliding across one another seemed very loud. It was as if Ryan were mesmerizing the soldiers with some magician’s trick, although in truth they really did not see the point of it. When she abruptly dropped her blades, then slapped the sword to the left before it could touch the ground, they saw no point in it at all.

The man who caught the sword, however, saw the point quite clearly. Kusunoki stepped from the shadows, his eyes on the troop of men. He swung the sword with pleasure and practiced ease. The same fierce light glowed in his eyes as the demon girl in front of them. The grins of the soldiers disappeared. The lithe lethality of this man was evident.

Ryan was not finished yet, however. She again flipped a sword upward, this time slapping it to the right. The soldiers knew enough this time to follow its flight as another man stepped from the shadows, a man with ice-blue eyes and a deadly expression on his face. Aeron caught the sword, appreciating its heft and balance. He swung it experimentally, and the soldiers shifted uncomfortably.

Ryan had not taken her eyes from the soldiers, knowing full well the positions of her allies without needing to look. Her tone was mocking as she addressed the soldiers.

“Allow me to make some introductions.” She nodded in Aeron’s direction without taking her eyes from the guards. “My beloved mate,” she said, the endearment sarcastic but deadly. The guards shifted their attention to the blue-eyed man as the corner of his mouth twitched at the girl’s dark humor.

Ryan nodded in Kusunoki’s direction, again without taking her eyes from the guards. “My Master,” she said with emphasis. The guards shifted their attention the other direction, toward the calm, Asian man with the gleaming eyes. This was perhaps even more disconcerting than an enraged mate; the one who had actually taught this demonic whelp to fight.

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