Silverlight (29 page)

I
heard a voice behind me as soon as I stepped
out of the cell.

“Where do you think
you’re
going?”

I inhaled and held it. Tavia.

I turned to find her aiming her crossbow at my
chest. “You would have to show up just now, wouldn’t you?” I said.

She smirked and threw a small burlap bag onto
the floor. “I’ve brought your breakfast, but you won’t need it now.”

“Why is that?”

 “I was told I could kill you if you tried
anything.” She gave me a vicious smile. “Finding you standing outside your cell
fits my definition of ‘anything.’ Hold still.” Tavia’s finger twitched and
released the bolt.

I dove to one side as the projectile whistled
past my ear. “I don’t think so.”

She was shaking so badly she couldn’t reload
the crossbow. I had to get close enough to disarm her. Failing that, I had to
be extremely fast if she fired at me again.

“Drakoe wouldn’t give you permission to kill
me. He seems happy to see me again.” I rambled, saying anything, and kept
moving in her direction. “Did you know he sent Tariq after me? He wouldn’t
allow you to kill me no matter what I’d done.”

“He’ll get over you.” She slid the bolt in
place and took aim.

“I’ll be damned.” I took another step. “Don’t
tell me you love that decrepit old bastard. Have you lost your mind? Not only
is he crippled, but he’s one of the ugliest men I’ve ever seen. Surely you can
do better than that, Tavia, but you’d have to get out of Pentorus first.”

That did it. Her face twisted into a knot just
before she loosed the bolt at my head. I barely had the space of a breath to
duck out of its way.

The bolt hissed past me, ruffling my hair. I
wasted no time in launching myself at her, catching hold of the stirrup and jerking
it hard to one side. I nearly succeeded in pulling the bow from her hands.

 Desperate measures then, or Plan B, as Magnus
used to say. I held onto the crossbow’s stirrup with my left hand, drew back my
fisted right, and let it fly, aiming for the bone under her left eye.

She saw it coming and covered her face, practically
throwing the weapon at me. My fist connected hard with bone. I heard a
satisfying crack as the concussion reverberated down my arm.

The rest of our fight happened in slow motion. Tavia
spun away, cursing and cradling her face. The crossbow briefly hung in the air;
I gathered it into my arms. Once I’d secured it, I focused on the bolt-lined
baldric slung over her shoulder.

I only needed one.

My pulse pounded in my ears.
Flawless, you
need to be flawless, you need to be flawless, you need to be flawless.

I stretched and opened my right hand,
straightening my fingers as I’d practiced. It worked well enough for me to get
my fingers around a bolt, tight enough to ensure that the bolt slid smoothly
from the leather loops as Tavia hit the ground.

I loaded up the crossbow as fast as I could.

We both froze and stared at each other. Tavia
leaned against the wall and gulped air. “You wouldn’t.”

I did. The bolt slammed into her forehead,
right between her eyes. Hurt and surprise crossed her face before she crumpled,
dead before she ever hit the floor.

“I’m truly sorry, Tavia. For the head shot, but
you would’ve done it to me.” I bent to strip her. “And I need your clothes more
than you do right now.”

The coat was a little big for me, but it would
have to do. I donned her hose – too long – and her boots, which were a perfect
fit. I then confiscated the belt bearing her daggers, and strapped the baldric
of bolts across my chest.

Not bad for a naked woman with no plan.

One last thing to do before I headed upstairs.
I dragged Tavia’s body into my cell, rolled her over, and partially covered her
head and shoulders with hay. She looked enough like me from a distance to fool
any guards who might come to check on us.

I closed and locked the cell door behind me, then
threw a handful of hay over the blood that had pooled on the stone floor. No
sense borrowing trouble.

The nail I’d pulled from Magnus’s boot would be
safer in the dungeon. I pushed it into the soft wax of an unlit candle in a
nearby sconce, just in case I couldn’t find the keys to Magnus’s cell on
Garai’s dead body.

Snatching up the crossbow, I pulled fresh air
into my lungs and took one last look at Tyrix asleep in his cell. “I love you,
Magnus. I’ve always loved you. I just wanted you to know, in the event I don’t
come back.” I stared down the long hallway leading to the stairs. “Never mind.
I’m coming back.”

I
didn’t exactly announce that I was heading to
the throne room, but neither did I hide. It was much too late for that. I dealt
with the few guards I met on the way up and kept moving.

Counting the steps from the dungeon to my final
destination –three-hundred-thirty-seven, including the stairs – helped calm me.
Soon, I stood before the throne room.

I stared at the ancient wooden door as doubt
crept in. Where was Garai? Did he already know I was loose? Was this a trap? If
so, it was a trap of my own making.

In the end, none of that mattered. If we were
going to escape, we needed a weapon. Silverlight, Bloodreign and Promise were
in that room. I was going in.

 Fully expecting the throne room door to be
locked if not barred, I jerked on the handle, momentarily thrown off balance
when it swung open. I narrowed my eyes and peered inside the cavernous room.

Most throne rooms are brightly lit, sumptuous
and opulent. Not this one. It was as dark and filthy as Garai’s heart. Old
straw reeking of cat piss littered the slate floors. Stained wooden pews lined
both walls, only reluctantly dragged to the center of the room to seat
villagers during court.

A total of twelve torches graced the walls, but
only four of them were burning, not nearly enough to chase away the perpetual
gloom haunting this place. I entered anyway, my eyes fixed on the oak and
velvet throne upon the dais.

Shouting and banging pulled my focus from the
task at hand. I turned my head to listen.

Guards, and a lot of them. On their way up the
stairs. They were searching for me.

Damn it, I’d hoped to have more time. Nothing I
could do about it now. I slammed the double doors with a thunderous boom and
dropped the massive iron bar down into the catch.

“I’ll be out when I’m damned good and ready,” I
said to the locked door.

I turned and walked the length of the narrow
carpet that ended at the edge of the dais. Promise and Bloodreign had already
been mounted on the wall above Silverlight. No matter. I’d stand on the back of
the throne to get them if I had to.

“Whatever shall I do with you, woman? Such an
annoyance. And a bit of a liability.” Garai’s sibilant voice slithered from the
darkness.

He startled me, but I was not entirely
surprised he was there. “Ah, but not nearly the annoyance and liability I
intend to be,” I said.

I stood still, one hand on a dagger, and let my
eyes adjust to the gloom. Garai was sitting at a small counting table in the
back corner. I would’ve walked right past him to get to the swords.

He would’ve known that. I would’ve been an easy
capture. Why did he reveal his presence and stop me?

I knew the answer, even as I wondered. Garai
wanted to play, to stalk, to terrorize. He loved to get physical, but mental
torture was his specialty.

A guttering torch threw just enough light upon
his elbow for me to see it twitch and shift. I dropped to the floor and rolled
as the angry hiss of a throwing star passed overhead.

I wasted no time loading a bolt onto the
crossbow. Leaping to my feet, I fired at him, then ducked behind a massive
marble pillar, one of ten set about the room.

“Pity. I’ll have to kill you now,” Garai said
from the opposite side of the room. Gods, I hadn’t even seen him get to his
feet! “I did enjoy having you here. It was always so difficult to coax a good,
healthy scream out of you though. Why wouldn’t you scream for me, Kymber?”

My name seemed to hang in the air. I bit my lip
but didn’t respond. Was he having trouble seeing me in the near-dark with one
eye? Was he trying to track me by voice?

Many hands pounded on the door. I gasped and
turned to look, but it remained locked.

“King Garai, are you well?” a cultured male
voice asked from the other side.

“Men with axes, Seromith. Why aren’t there men
with axes taking down the door?” There was a satisfying hint of panic in
Garai’s tone.

I loaded a bolt, spun away from the pillar, and
fired. He grunted and ran at a crouch, ducking behind the column opposite me.

“You little bitch. You took a chunk out of my
arm.” he said. “I’m going to let every single one of my men have a turn on you,
then I’m going to cut you into tiny fucking pieces and feed you to the dogs.”

Well, well. That was literally the first time
I’d ever heard
fear
in his voice.  

I quickly took shelter behind a pew along the wall
and waited for him to make the next move. Several minutes passed. The silence
was deafening.

“Say something!” he bellowed.

Tracking me by voice then. I smiled.

Other than the throwing stars, I wasn’t sure
what weapons he had on him. I was middling fair with a crossbow and very good
with a dagger, but I couldn’t hit him if I couldn’t see him. This fight had to
be close, face to face, if I was going to strike him down. I needed more light
so I could get a sword in my hand.

I heard a whoosh and a hiss and, as if the gods
had heard my thoughts, the room brightened a little. I peeked out from under
the pew.

Garai had pulled a torch from the wall and
fired up the unlit sconce on his side of the room.

“This is foolish, Kymber.” He lit the sconce
near his throne, throwing more light against the darkness. “You’ll never get
out of Pentorus alive. Surrender, and I’ll give you a merciful death.”

Another sconce roared to life. Damn it, he’d
swung around to my side of the room. I rolled beneath the pew and watched his
feet move toward me.

 He had one eye and at least a few throwing
stars. I had both eyes and a crossbow with a good supply of bolts. Who would
have the advantage once all the sconces were burning?

 Too close to call, I thought. If I could
somehow wound him, the scales might tip in my favor. I slid one of Tavia’s
daggers from its sheath. His left leg was his bad one. How would he manage if I
severed the tendon at the back of his heel?

A couple more steps, just a few more. That’s it
. I gripped the knife
and prepared to strike.

 Garai stopped barely two steps away and
pivoted, moving in the opposite direction. I slid out from under the pew and
peered over it, trying to plan my next move.

He slammed his sword into the bench’s curved
back, not six inches from my nose. Wood flew everywhere. I screamed and ran,
scrambling down the line of pews like a crab escaping to the ocean. Gaining my
feet, I headed full speed for the marble pillar near the door.

He pursued me relentlessly during that frantic
flight, crashing his sword into every pew I passed. It sounded like cannon
fire. Oak chips arced into the air, hitting my face and sticking in my hair.

It was close, but I reached the pillar. He’d
stopped on the other side, so close I could hear him breathing. I loaded the
crossbow and fired, hoping to drive him back behind a distant pillar. I needed
a few moments so I could
think
.

It worked to a degree, but only because he took
his time to light two more sconces. I shot at him while he did it, missing
every single time. 

I pressed my spine to cold marble and gasped
for air. Gods, I hated battling on defense. If he kept lighting torches before
I got my sword off the wall, I’d be dead before this fight even got started. I
peeked out around the pillar.

Garai stood on the other side of the column, so
close I could count the stitches that had once closed the wound on his
forehead. He had a dagger in one hand and a massive sword in the other.
Smiling. “Got you now, bitch.”

Stay to the left, out of his reach
, I thought as I ducked
and fled for the pews on the other side of the room.

He was right behind me. I quickly laid the
crossbow behind the nearest pillar, gripped the end pew, and pushed it forward
with all of my strength.

 The heavy bench caught him across the hips. I
gritted my teeth and shoved harder, herding him toward a pillar, finally
slamming him hard into the marble. He grunted and swore under his breath.

I’d pinned him, but he wouldn’t stay pinned for
long.

I watched him pull a throwing star from his
leather vest. I ducked and ran, but not fast enough. The eight-bladed star,
moving fast and with deadly accuracy, bit into the flesh of my left shoulder. I
scooted behind a pillar and reached back to yank it out. Throwing stars had
never been my forte, but he’d just handed me another weapon. I’d use anything
the bastard saw fit to give me.

Garai tossed the bench aside and roared. He
then proceeded to throw a tantrum, smashing chairs and tables and pews and launching
the debris at the far wall. The lovely oak and cherry furniture that graced his
throne room was soon little more than kindling.

Go ahead and expend all your energy, jackass.
On the other hand, he
was destroying everything I could use as cover. No matter. He was out in the
open. I’d just shoot him and put a stop to it.

I bent to pick up my crossbow, but it was gone.

I’d meant to place it gently on the floor, but
I must’ve thrown it in my haste. The crossbow now lay in three pieces against
the far wall.

I covered my face with both hands and shook my
head. It was going to be a long morning.