Five bodies in the courtyard.
The three remaining attackers hesitated.
“He’s bleeding,” one of the shadows growled.
Everard took a step back, toward the southern wall directly opposite our tower. The intruders followed.
Another step.
Another.
If he kept going, eventually his back would hit our stables.
Why wasn’t anyone helping him? Why wasn’t I helping him? I opened my mouth to tell Kaiden to bring me a bow. I had never shot one before, but I could shoot a gun. I would manage.
Everard stopped.
The intruders closed in on him, weapons ready.
His eyes ignited with a shocking, murderous green. Black smoke shot out of him, licking the pavers of the courtyard. Brilliant green Fatefire ran up the blade.
Tillmar dropped to one knee, head bowed.
Everard lunged, light on his feet. His sword struck, slicing at the nearest attacker. The top half of the intruder slid aside and crashed to the ground. Clover gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth.
The two remaining swordsmen had no time to react. Everard was coming, unstoppable, fast, his sword slicing like the Grim Reaper’s scythe. The green blade kissed the second shadow’s neck, and the head rolled off its shoulders. The third one turned to run, and the blade severed their spine.
He’d cut them down like they were made of paper.
I realized I had squeezed the windowsill so hard, my fingers hurt.
If anyone enters this house, even if they appear by magic, I will know and I will kill them.
Well, he kept his word.
Everard strode to the kneeling intruder, the glow of the Fatefire throwing green light on his face. The black smoke curled around his feet. He looked like a demon, he killed like one, and now he was moving to take this man’s life and nothing in the world could stop him.
“I surrender,” Tillmar squeezed out, his voice hoarse.
“My lord!” Gort called. “I know this man. He will talk.”
“I haven’t decided if I want him to talk,” Everard said.
He reached the man. The sword rose.
The man braced himself. His shoulders shuddered.
“Please don’t!” I called out.
Everard looked up at me. A long moment passed.
The man stared at the ground.
“Don’t move,” Everard told him.
The man froze as if petrified.
The Fatefire died.
