“We’ve been down here maybe five minutes,” she called up.
Croak searched frantically for anything that would tell him he hadn’t gone mad.
A minute later, he heard Terena grunt and moan. She tossed the torch up and he jumped when it landed an inch from his boot. She pulled herself up from the hole, cursing, then snuck closer to him and drew her dagger from the center of the shoulder guard she always wore.
He frowned over at her. “You’re loud, you know that?”
“Do you see anything?” she whispered.
Croak shot her a baffled look. With heavy sarcasm, he said, “No, Ren, I can’t see in the dark. Can you?”
She scowled at him, then turned to light the torches closest to them, creating a small ring of light in the pitch black.
It was better than nothing.
Croak swallowed.
He turned around just as an arrow whizzed past his shoulder, tearing his cloak.
They ducked, stumbling around until they found cover. To their left, shouts sounded out of the darkness.
Croak gasped and looked up as three men appeared in the air, shouting as they landed in front of them. Their heads were covered inblack and masks covered the lower half of their faces, scimitars raised high as they rushed at Croak and Terena.
Croak lifted his sword and feinted left as one attacker barreled toward him. He came back and thrust down with his sword, catching the man above his hip as he stumbled past.
“Fucking Magi?!” Croak shrieked, looking around frantically, searching for his sister.
He caught sight of her fighting two Magi. She blocked one with her sword on her left while the other she kept at bay with her dagger. Terena dropped to the ground to kick out the legs of the first Magi.
Croak surged forward with a roar, launching into the air. The Magi closest turned and kicked out, his foot catching Croak in the face and he whirled, falling and rolling on the ground.
To his right, Terena lifted her sword, bringing it down to cleave the wrist of the Magi she fought. She quickly twisted as she dropped to her knee and gutted him with the dagger in her right hand.
Scrambling back, Croak gasped as the last Magi approached, lifted his scimitar, his dark eyes hard.
“Ren!”
The Magi swung down. Croak raised his arm but the Magi jerkedforward, dropping his scimitar and landing in front of Croak. Cursing, Croak bolted up, his sword aimed at the Magi, who was now on his knees clutching his shoulder.
When the Magi bent over, Croak saw Terena’s dagger embedded to the hilt. Wiping his face with the back of his sword hand, Croak looked down at the Magi and yanked down the cloth covering the man’s face.
“Why’d you attack us?” he asked, panting, his sword pointed at the Magi. “Now your friends are dead and it’s all your fault.”
The man was still on one knee, his trousers torn from where he’d fallen. He clutched at his bloodied shoulder.
When he lifted his gaze, his nostrils flared and eyes burned.
Then he shifted his eyes to Terena.
“It is you,” the Magi exhaled, his accent thick.
Terena lifted an eyebrow.
“You should not have come for the shroud. You are not ready.”
Croak dropped to his haunches, twisting his wrist so his blade was perpendicular to the Magi’s throat. “What shroud?”
The Magi barely glanced at him, annoyed, before he nodded at Terena. “Do you know what this means? If you take it, it begins again.”
