But keeping him alive will be difficult, because as he runs awkwardly past the vampire faithful in front of him, one of them lashes out and snaps her jaws around his neck.
The priest’s valiant wailing turns into a wet gurgle as his artery sprays blood across the wooden floorboards and he collapses from the weight of the vampire on him. His legs start to twitch. His eyes widen, grow even larger, and then go sightless as his squirming and twitching ceases.
There’s a sick slurping sound from the hungry vampire hovering over him.They’ve been trained not to let any human priests fall into our hands,I think sourly. “Shouldn’t have trusted the Damned,” I mutter, and then behead the vampire feasting on him before it can look up at me.
I make quick work of the other two with Garro, using my shortsword in the tight confines of the room, while Garroway is in his natural habitat with his daggers.
Once they’re dispatched, I growl and lift the loose floorboard, tossing it aside.
Five humans of various age stare up at me in awe. The first I see is Imis, with her arm draped over the younger boy Skent in a firm gesture, like a big sister protecting a defenseless younger brother.
There’s pain in my heart, a squeezing that nearly brings me to my knees. I’ve been wading through this hellish swamp of battle for hours now, and to finally see grimy human faces staring back at me makes my eyes burn with tears. “Imis! Are you hale?!” I cry out.
She nods wordlessly, tears streaming down her face. Her chin trembles. Garroway kneels and helps the humans out of the basement, checking for vampire bites along the way.
There’s a swift reunion in the ramshackle house that’s barely being held up by sticks and prayers. Human fathers and mothers—fighters in my rebellion—wrap their arms around the loved ones who were stolen so viciously away from them.
If nothing else, I feel this night is a victory because we’ve reunited some of the Nuhavians with their families. There are still more humans out there being kept hostage in this massive ward, but something tells me our time is running short.
When I make it outside into the cold night, swiping sweat from my forehead, I’m confirmed of that fact.
A familiar face appears through the thinning fog, a sickly green color cast across her face from a nearby lamppost, highlighting the deep scar on her cheek.
“Zefyra!” I yell, and we embrace swiftly.
“I come as a forward scout to Aramastun’s army, Sephania.” She sheathes her sword. “The Night Judge is not with the army, but their ranks are about to sweep across this ward from the west, in their thousands.”
“Then we’d best get going, as planned,” Garro says.
“Any idea where Aramastun is?” I ask.
Zefyra shakes her head. “No clue. He’s sneaky like that.”
Before I can ponder that too deeply, Vallan storms over, behind Garroway. His dark armor is lathered with dust, blood, and what I grimly think looks like bone fragments. He takes a moment to dust off his broad shoulders and cloak with his gloved hands. “Cleared most the buildings eastward. Stopped tossing explosives when I realized humans had come this way. We recovered twelve living Nuhavians, as well as five bodies.”
I grimace, nodding curtly, wondering if those bodies came as a result of his lobbed explosives.
He can read my expression as well as anyone. “Five bodies killed from vampires when they saw us coming, silverblood,” he says pointedly.
I wish I could say it’s a small relief. But their mode of death doesn’t matter. They’re still dead, which means familiesI brought here to fight will return home hopeless, lost, and without their family members.
“We need to sound the alarm for a retreat,” I tell my group of leadership. “Sister Zefyra, thank you for the intelligence. You’d best get back to your unit before they realize you’re gone.”
She breaks into a bow and rushes off into the fog.
Garroway says, “I know where the tunnels are located—the same ones the Truehearts used to bring the hostages into the Faith Ward. We can funnel the army through there, continuing east and south, and pop out at the base of the Olhavian Peaks. Should let us circle Aramastun’s army before they even realize we’re back in Nuhav.”
“Splendid,” I say, turning toward the cathedral hill. The fighting there has slowed. It seems like the vampires are beginning to retreat against the onslaught of Silverknights and bloodsucker rebels at Helget’s command.
Silverknights and vampires fighting together. Never thought I’d see the day.I know the truce is only temporary. They will be enemies again before long. But for a single night, a girl can dream. And admire.
Piercing howls jolt my system, coming from all around the Faith Ward, in every direction. They are the kind of bloodcurdling wails that come from a broken heart or a sudden death in the family. Soul-rending, ear-piercing, body-shuddering.
I glance with wide eyes at my mates. They shrug, just as confused. On the hill, many of the remaining enemy vampires are grabbing their skulls, widening their maws, crying out to the heavens. It makes them easy targets for the Silverknights to finish off.
“Suppose we’d best check that out before sounding the retreat, boys,” I tell my men, and we rush toward the hill together.
With the fighting being cleared, we veer across piled bodies and grass slick with blood and dew. At the top of the hill, where it levels off, I come to the front facade of the church building, which is held aloft by huge pillars.
