“I told you. It’s always the worst-case scenario when you and the underground are involved,” Dewdrop said in a tight, pain-filled voice. He gingerly cradled his arm to his side. The color leached from his face and a grimace carved deep grooves into the side of his mouth and around his eyes.
Tate touched his shoulder. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll manage.” His lips flattened into a determined line as he picked up one of the fist-sized rocks Tate had reduced the other sentinel to.
As a weapon it left a lot to be desired.
Seeing her look, he gave her a strained grin. “Desperate times.”
Ryu and Tyne moved toward them, and they put their backs together so they could cover all directions.
“I don’t suppose the guards will come check on us any time soon,” Dewdrop asked.
“Judging from the fact our escort still hasn’t reacted to a prisoner leaving by the front door, I’m willing to guess something has gone horribly wrong on their end,” Tate said.
That or they couldn’t get in for some reason.
“This is a forgotten level. No one comes down here unless they have to,” Tyne told them.
“Lovely,” Tate quipped.
She and Ryu shared a look, the same fear for their survival that crouched in her was present in him too. Words weren’t needed in that moment. If this really was the end, they’d go out side by side.
Ryu reached back, squeezing her hand in silent support as the first of the sentinels moved out of the hallways and into the room.
“We’ll take down those between us and the door as quickly as possible. As soon as they’re down, we punch through,” Ryu advised.
“Getting out of here won’t be enough,” Tyne said. “They’ll pursue us into the rest of the prison.”
“We’ll worry about that when we come to it,” Ryu said.
Tyne frowned but didn’t argue.
“Sounds good enough for me.” Dewdrop leaned forward on his toes as he got ready.
Tyne looked Tate over. “Nice armor. I don’t suppose you’ve got any you can spare.”
“No.”
But maybe—
Tate concentrated. The palm of her hand warmed as silver liquid squeezed out of her skin, quickly lengthening until it formed a dagger.
Tate handed it to Dewdrop. “Try this.”
Pleasure chased across his face as he tossed the rock away before happily taking the silver dagger. He slashed his arm back and forth, looking even more happy. “Aw, hell yes.”
“I don’t know how effective it will be.”
This was the first time she’d attempted to create a dagger for someone else’s use. There was every chance it would crumple after the first good blow, unable to sustain its form without proximity to her and her relic.
“Anything is better than a rock.”
“Focus,” Tyne ordered. “I’ll leave you behind if you hold me back.”
Dewdrop grumbled but fell into a modified stance that would protect his injured side.
Tate’s palm heated up as she quickly formed another blade, this one closer to a sword. It was longer and thicker than the one she gave Dewdrop, created to slash and dismember rather than stab.
