“I mean it, Isabelle. No heroics. Dinna do anything stupid. We’re here to get Magnus out and ye would only be a distraction.” He turned to look at her, his green eyes intense and focused. He’d already unslung the bow from his back and had an arrow nocked. “The best way ye can help Magnus now is to stay here out of sight and stay safe.”
Isabelle swallowed then nodded.
Emeric gave a curt nod in return, then turned to his men. With a swift motion of his hand, he signaled them to spreadout. Their movements were silent and swift, each man disappearing into the shadows like a ghost.
Emeric moved too, melting into the shadows with an ease that spoke of his experience. Izzy was alone, crouched behind the boulders with Snaffles. She could hear the outlaws’ laughter and muffled voices carrying through the ravine, oblivious to the danger that stalked them.
She felt a cold knot of fear in her stomach, but she forced herself to stay where she was. She kept her eyes on Magnus, who sat slumped against the tree trunk, his head bowed. She wished she could see his face, assure herself that he was alright. But all she could see was his bound figure, and it twisted her heart.
She glanced at Snaffles. The large dog was crouched next to her, his eyes fixed on Magnus in the distance. He seemed to understand that he needed to stay quiet but she could see the tension in his muscles, the way his ears were perked up.
Minutes passed like hours.
Suddenly the wind picked up, gusting down the canyon and sending sparks billowing up from the fire, momentarily blinding the outlaws. It was the moment Emeric had been waiting for.
An arrow came flying out of the shadows and found its mark with deadly accuracy. A man fell, an arrow lodged in his throat, choking off his laughter mid-chuckle and plunging the camp into stunned silence. Before anyone could react, two more arrows followed in quick succession, taking down two more unsuspecting outlaws.
Chaos erupted.
The outlaws scrambled, their shouts echoing off the surrounding stone walls. Some drew swords, others flung themselves to the ground for cover. Emeric’s men rose from their hiding places like wraiths, their swords gleaming in the firelight.
From her hideout, Izzy watched as Emeric skewered an outlaw rushing at him, his movements fluid and deadly. His men followed suit, their unified movements a testament to years of fighting together.
Izzy’s heart hammered against her ribs as she watched the fight unfold. She wanted desperately to help, but she knew Emeric was right—she would only be a distraction. So she stayed where she was, clutching Snaffles’ collar tightly to keep the dog from rushing into the fray.
Yet even amidst the chaos, Izzy could not tear her gaze away from Magnus. He had straightened at the onset of the attack, his eyes wide as he took in the scene. Seeing him alert brought a rush of relief to Izzy, but her heart clenched when she saw one of the outlaws moving towards him. It was the red-haired man with the plait she’d seen before.
“No,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.
She looked around frantically for Emeric, but he was engaged in a deadly duel with two of the outlaws. His men were similarly occupied, none of them noticing the danger Magnus was in.
The redhead drew a wicked-looking knife from his belt, his eyes focused on Magnus. He was yelling something that she couldn’t hear over the sounds of battle. But whatever it was, it made Magnus laugh—a harsh, bitter sound that cut through the noise.
The red-haired man reached Magnus and roughly cut the bonds that tied him to the tree, yanking him to his feet. He shoved the knife against Magnus’s throat, the glinting edge a stark contrast to the dirt and blood smeared across Magnus’s skin.
The redhead began dragging Magnus away from the camp. They disappeared around the bend out of sight.
“Magnus!” Izzy cried, but her voice was lost amongst the clashing of swords and shouts of fighting men.
Snaffles growled low in his throat and tensed as if ready to spring. Emeric’s words echoed in Izzy’s mind:No heroics. Dinna do anything stupid. But she couldn’t sit here and do nothing while Magnus was in danger.
“Let’s go, Snaffles.”
Releasing his collar, she rose from her hiding place and slipped closer to the camp.
The scene was a blur of battling bodies, smoke and flying embers, steel clashing against steel. Izzy breathed slowly, trying to steady her racing heart. She darted from shadow to shadow, Snaffles by her side.
More than once she had to dive out of the way of clashing swords and grappling bodies. If she had thought the abattoir district in Hodwell was a nightmare, this was a whole new level. The firelight cast lurid shadows on the combatants, turning them into flickering monsters with gaping mouths and shining claws. The stink of blood and the moans of the injured filled the air and Izzy felt terror clawing at the edges of her mind, threatening to paralyze her.
But she was not the frightened, weak-willed woman she’d been when she’d first come here. Not anymore. Withher hands knotted into the fur of Snaffles’ shoulder, she made her way resolutely in the direction Magnus had gone.
