I draw my knife, light suddenly obliterating the darkness as the rose begins to glow. Stabbing his wrist, I kick him in the thigh, missing my initial target, but it’s enough to earn my freedom. I hit the ground hard, rolling away from him and finding my feet as he cradles his bloodied wrist and hisses at me.
“Bitch.” There’s an enormous hammer strapped to his back and he draws it, revealing a bare chest and thickly muscled abdominals beneath his cloak.
“Didn’t you have enough material for a shirt?” It’s a strange combination. Leather trousers, red cloak, bare chest.
The hammer sweeps through the air, and I throw myself under it, rolling and slashing back. He yelps as my blade bisects his calf, but the hammer whirls dangerously fast in his hands and I’m not quick enough to avoid it.
The blunt head of it drives into my shoulder, sweeping me off my feet. Pain slams down upon me as I hit the ground. I scream, twisting away from the blow, but it’s too late. My vision’s obliterated in white-hot flames, my teeth grinding.
“Huntress!” Bale roars, and the sound is loud enough to send birds shrieking into the night.
Fuck.Fuck. I curl into a ball, clutching at my shoulder. Something doesn’t feel right. My arm’s hanging and I want to vomit.
I cannot move.
The hammer lifts high, and a blur of red streams past me as Bael slams into my attacker. He stabs his hand into my attacker’schest—I swear I see dark claws elongating his fingers—and then it’s my attacker’s turn to scream.
Bael jerks his hand free. A bloodied heart lands at the base of the fountain and my attacker slowly slumps to his knees, then slams into the stones beside me.
“Huntress.” Bale kneels beside me, reaching for my arm.
“Don’t touch it,” I yelp, knowing the joint is dislocated at best.Hopingit’s merely dislocated.
A horn rings out through the still night.
Far to our right, another answers it.
“We need to move,” Bael says, slipping his arm around me.
“No, no, no.” If he bumps my arm, I swear I’ll pass out.
“No time,” Bael snarls at me, swinging me up into his arms with a gentleness that surprises me. “Where’s my fire-spitting huntress now? Hold your arm. We need to get out of here.”
He plunges us into the alcove and the tunnel beyond. The world blurs as I feel him shove his back against the door and push it shut with a low groan.
My fingers are locked so tightly around his knife nothing is going to pry it from them. The blade’s light catches on a set of stairs, leading us into darkness—the darkness reminds me of the Knights of Malus when they preach that women will lead men into sin.
Then let us step into sin.
“Guess we’re going down.” Bael growls. “Hold on, lioness. I’ve got you.”
The world keeps spinning as I fade in and out of consciousness.
I don’t know how far we go, but finally the stairs spit us into a cavernous chamber. Somewhere far above us, the roof must have caved in, for soft silvery-red light spills through.
Bael lights one of the torches in his pack, setting it into what seems to be an iron ring on the wall. The floor is covered in mosaic tiles, revealing a stylized rose surrounded by grey tiles that seem to mirror the Labyrinth above. Little gold tiles at the edge of the circular mosaic add a hint of decadence.
To our far right, water splashes through a gaping chasm in the roof, splashing into a pool below it. Steam curls off the water and a faint blue light glows at the bottom of the pool.
“Where are we?” I groan.
“I don’t know,” Bael replies, setting me down. “Stay here whilst I ensure we’re alone.”
I sink onto a rock, clutching at my arm as I shiver and shake. Any remaining fight has long since left my body.
It hurts so badly.
Bael returns like a wraith in the dark, his cloak swirling around him.
