He’s wild-eyed and sopping wet, covered in mud. His sword is sheathed at his hip, and he’s panting, like he just ran all the way back from Ruin.
“Cygnus.”
I’m so shocked, that’s all I can say. His name. Like it’s a revelation. Like it’s a prayer.
“I—I came back for you,” he wheezes. “I couldn’t let you face them alone.”
We stare at each other, breathing hard, and it occurs to me quite abruptly that I have perhaps never seen Cygnus clearly. Not all of him.
But there’s no time to make sense of those thoughts.
I grab his hand. And then we’re running together.
Dante becomes a blur of copper at our ankles. Together, we clear the open doors, coming onto a balcony…
And find a wall of armed paramilitary waiting.
These aren’t guards or VIA. They wear black tunics and gray boots, a uniform I recognize instantly.
They’re agents of the Frumentari.
Cygnus takes the offensive. His sword rises to meet the nearest Frumentari’s blade with an earsplitting crash. I’ve already gathered a cord of my power to prepare for this moment, and as the agent nearest to me swings for my right side, I dodge and shoot the magic toward her sword-bearing arm.
Her humerus snaps clean in half.
The Frumentari screams, clutching her arm. But to her credit, she doesn’t drop her sword—just transfers it to the otherhand. Her companion, the third agent, lunges in another attack in the same instant. Some never-before-heard animalistic noise rises out of me as I drop to dodge, seizing an ankle of each agent in either hand and thenblastingmagic with all the strength I can muster.
Flesh, bone, and sinew explode between my fingers.
Both agents fall.
I clamber to my feet, preparing to deliver another blow. The third agent doesn’t rise, but the second agent is already staggering up, trying to gain ground on her remaining good foot. Her sword is too far away to reach, and she looks white-eyed, sweating,frantic.I’m sure I look the same. I don’t know how much blood has splattered over me. I feel clumps of it drying in patches on my face and my neck.
“Surrender!”I scream, but she just shouts something I can’t understand, her free arm swinging.
I don’t see her dagger until it shoots into my thigh.
I scream. Pathetic, humiliating, and weak as it is, I shriek as I involuntarily crumple. From the placement and surge of blood, I know immediately that she struck my femoral artery. This is not a fresh-faced agent. This is a trained killer who knew exactly where she needed to strike.
A growl sounds, and there’s a blur of orange fur as Dante launches himself at her.
But it’s followed by a whimper as the agent knocks him aside, lunging to grab her sword. My eyes shoot to meet hers and I find them dancing with pleasure.
“You’re going to die for that,” I snarl.
A vow.
Her sword arcs again over me, and I try to summon my magic. But all my power is surging toward my own wound, and I swear time slows down as her blade drops toward my exposed neck. I brace for the blow…
That never comes.
Because Cygnus lops off her arm with a single swipe.
At last, the Frumentari falls and does not rise.
I’ve got my own problems, though. I’m bleeding out. My whole body shakes as Cygnus crouches beside me. He grips my upper thigh with both hands, squeezing around the dagger still embedded in my flesh.
“Pull it out,” I beg.
