“Haven’t I heard that before?” Vi growled back. “I think from the last assassin who tried to kill me.”
“I’m not an assassin and I certainly don’t want to kill you. You’re worth far more alive. You’ve no idea the bounty they have on your head.” He took a step forward.
“Take one more step and I put this blade through the back of your skull.” Jayme said from behind him. From her vantage on the bed, Vi could see the woman had her blade on the back of the man’s neck. Fallor only grinned wider at the threat.
“You think you have this under control?”
“I think you shouldn’t underestimate us,” Jayme answered for them both.
“We’ll see!” Fallor doubled over, pushing himself back and into Jayme. Her sword went over his head before she was pinned against the table on the opposite wall.
Vi took her chance, lunging for him. Every combat tutor she’d ever worked with told her the same thing: when an opening presented itself, the living took it, and the dead never had the opportunity to learn better.
She was mid-air as Fallor straightened. His hand came out of nowhere, clasping around her wrist and pulling the blade over his shoulder. She hung, struggling against his grasp, but his muscles were like iron. He took a step away from Jayme; Vi heard wheezing at the same moment Fallor tightened his grip, a pulse of foreign magic rippling through Vi’s body.
The sword vanished.
“Little Lightspinner, you think your magic is a threat to me?”
“Who are you working for?” Vi demanded, looking in his pale eyes. Whatever that magic was, it wasn’t anything she knew. Which meant… Fallor wasn’t from the Solaris Empire.
“The pirate queen herself.” Fallor beamed from ear to ear as Vi’s blood turned to ice.
“Adela,” she whispered.
“Don’t you touch her!” Jayme had recovered and charged full force into Fallor’s back.
The man let out a roar and released her. Vi fell, stumbling slightly, hitting the bed and collapsing onto it. The point of Jayme’s sword protruded from Fallor’s side. She stared at it with a dark fascination as blood pooled, dripping down his shirt and staining it crimson.
“You upstart bitch.” The words were as harsh as his guttural tone. But Fallor had a wild grin and a crazed look to his eye as he turned from Vi to Jayme when she withdrew her sword. “Fine…” He looked back to Vi.
Vi readied herself with another sword, but Fallor didn’t go for her.
Instead, he lunged for the door, yanking at it. Wood splintered and cracked as he pulled it open without even turning the knob. He ran from the room, racing down the hall to the stair.
Vi was on her feet.
“You stay here,” Jayme ordered, already halfway out the door.
“But—”
“I know you’re safe here if I don’t let him from my sight! Stay put!”
Vi would’ve fought more, but Jayme was already gone.
She didn’t want to be left behind. She didn’t want to leave Jayme to do the dirty work on her behalf. Vi pushed away from the bed, starting for the door. Then decided better of it.
She’d give her friend five minutes… five minutes and then she’d go help.
Vi strained her hearing, listening for any sounds of a struggle. She heard them bounding down the stairs and then out the main door. But then, silence.
Quickly, Vi repacked their things, shoving sundries into their respective packs. She stood, slinging both over her shoulder. One slow count to ten, and then she was after Jayme. Vi set to pacing, trying to push the visions of her friend dying a horrible death as far from her mind as possible with every step.
“That’s it,” she declared, reaching ten, and started for the door.
A single set of footsteps—light and nimble—bounded up the stairs. Jayme’s hair was wild. Dark bruises puffed around her right eye, and she held herself a little crooked. But she was alive, and Vi didn’t see any mortal wounds.
“Did he—”
