A wicked laugh. “Where’s the fun in that?”
He didn’t bother delaying his killing blow to the injured man, shoving the blade deep into the man’s gut. And then, to his surprise, two men were on him, one bleeding heavily from slices peppered across his upper body.
Brela’s man.
Cason glanced toward her after his sword sliced cleanly through his bleeding man’s neck, Elias’s arrow finishing off the other.
Ivan was flat on his stomach, fifty paces from the gates with Brela’s throwing knife embedded in the back of his right knee. She stalked toward him, twirling Night Carver in her hand.
“How many?” she asked, her voice a quiet calm.
Oh, gods. Cason had heard that voice before in the prison wagon, when she had threatened Cason to protect her friends.
“Please, please,” Ivan begged, choking on his words as he tried to drag himself to the gates.
“Shit,” Elias hissed from somewhere behind Cason.
Brela paused next to the bleeding man, lifted her leg… and slammed her boot into the knife, shoving it deeper into Ivan’s leg. He screamed.
Cason’s stomach churned at the crunch of wet bone.
She removed her foot and squatted next to the man, gripping his hair as she lifted his head. “I asked a question.”
“How many what?” he cried.
Brela’s hand fisted tighter. “Veil Worshippers. How many of my people have you killed?”
“Non—”
She slammed his head against the ground, then yanked him up again. Cason blinked and Night Carver was pressed against the man’s tongue, blood gushing from his nose and dripping down his chin as Brela leaned closer.
“I think I’ll cut out your lying tongue first,” she hummed. Ivan whimpered. He might have been crying. “And while you choke on your blood, I’ll drag your rotting carcass to the temple and hang you from the tower with your entrails.”
Cason took a step forward to stop her, but Elias was faster, sprinting out from the buildings ahead of him. The earth-blessed man had his sword tip pressed against Brela’s right shoulder a second later, the arm holding Night Carver.
“That’s enough,” Elias growled at her, nothing kind in his emerald gaze.
Deep blue rage darkened in Brela’s eyes as she looked up at her friend. “How dare yo—“
Elias pressed harder, drawing blood as he snarled. “I saidenough.”
Ivan gasped in relief as she ripped Night Carver out of his mouth, despite the spray of blood as the dagger sliced his lip. He choked. “Thank y—“
“Shut up,” Elias hissed at Ivan, eyes not leaving Brela’s. “You went too far, Night Terror. Be done with it, or I’ll drive this sword through your shoulder.” Her gaze flickered to the trembling man, but Elias only stepped closer and bared his teeth. “Don’t test me. You know I’ll do it.”
She blinked up at Elias, and Cason could have sworn that her eyes lightened. Not just in realization, but color.
“What the hells—“
Ivan’s mumble was cut short. Without looking down, Brela slammed Night Carver into Ivan’s chest and ripped it free with a snarl. She continued staring at her friend, Elias’s blade still digging into her shoulder. They remained looking at each other the entire time, Ivan’s body limp between them and blood running in a steady stream down her arm.
Cason took half a step forward, and Brela’s head snapped to him. Pure panic filled her eyes as she darted her gaze between him and Elias.
“I’m not… you’re both here…” Brela’s voice trembled, frantically scanned her surroundings. She looked at her bloodied dagger, Ivan’s body, and back to her friend.
Elias dipped his chin, and it was like a rope snapped between the two of them. Brela scrambled back, releasing Night Carver as she sat on the stone and pressed her palms to her temples.
“Thank you,” she whispered, curling her legs to her chest. “I’m sorry, thank you for stopping me.”
