But while Baz would be free of the bonds that tied him to Junot, his friends would pay the price.For the foreseeable future, Castle Hawxfure was home—or whatever meager substitute for home Mauldrene permitted them.
After six months, and with a sharp sense of direction, Alobaz still struggled to orient himself in the fog.He thought he was heading in the direction of the stables.He picked a path around fallen branches, which were everywhere, in varying states of decay, and rocks.Watching his feet, he smacked into something.
Something that gasped.In that same pained way.
Someone.
In a heartbeat, his sword was in his hand and at the stranger’s throat.
His eyes widened in surprise as he took in the stranger’s face.
They narrowed viciously when he realized she pointed a long dagger at his heart.
“Drop the blade,” he seethed.
The temptress’ throat bobbed.“Drop yours first.”
“At the same time, then.”
Those golden eyes of hers flared molten fury that conjured images of the Fuerin and their dragonfire.
“Fine,” she bit out.
“On the count of three.One.Two.Three.”
He withdrew his blade.
She pressed upward on hers.
The dagger pierced his wompa leather vest, his skin, stretched under his ribs for his heart.
“This is for my brother.I’ll see you in the Igneuslands.”
As she shoved upward, Alobaz dropped his body.Their opposing momentum meant that her blade sank into his chest?—
But missed his pumping heart.
Just barely.
Chapter28
Hoping Never to Return
Alobaz’s guard had been down.He’d sensed no danger.He hadn’t heard her or scented her or otherwise felt her—when he damn well should have.
It was the fog, he guessed—Mauldrene, the island, the abyss, or all of them combined, working together to allow her to get to him.
Mauldrene made no secret of her dislike for the new host of her house.
When the temptress’ blade missed its mark, instead of removing it and trying again, she sank to her knees beside him and leaned all her weight into the blade in an attempt to tilt it upward that last inch to stab his heart.
But Alobaz’s moment of shock had passed.The instincts he’d honed over more battles than any one man should ever have to wage kicked in.He knocked her hand away from her dagger as he called, “Drion!”
Then he shoved her to the ground.
Only, she barely faltered.She leapt to her feet and lunged for his sword.
He reached it first because he was closer.He couldn’t remove the knife in his chest yet.
