Steel clashed in the narrow corridor as the first wave hit.
Outnumbered, but unyielding.
They cut down anyone who came within reach, holding the line with brutal precision. Malzaun shouted orders from the rear, cutting down the few who broke through their formation.
"We can't leave them!" I started back, but Daemon caught my arm.
"That’s exactly what we have to do."
"They'll die!"
"They know." His voice cut through the chaos. "Malzaun!"
The captain didn't turn. His blade flashed, parrying a spear thrust, and his voice carried over the combat. "Move!"
One of his veterans fell. Another stepped into the gap without hesitation.
"Seris." Daemon's hand framed my face, forcing me to look at him. "They chose this. Honor that choice."
Zephyr stepped toward Malzaun and set his feet. He fired through the gaps, doing what he could to support the line, but there were too many enemies and not enough arrows.
He glanced back at us. "We have to go. Now."
The throne room doors waited at the end of the hall.
Malzaun's unit fought with desperate precision, holding the corridor against overwhelming numbers. They were buying us time measured in heartbeats. I forced my attention away from them and fixed my gaze ahead.
We ran.
Daemon matched my pace. Kael and Kane flanked us. Zephyr brought up the rear, loosing arrows as he moved backward, covering Malzaun’s line for as long as he could.
The throne room doors loomed closer.
Twenty feet.
Fifteen.
Behind us, a scream, cut off too quickly.
Ten feet.
The shadows beyond the doors writhed with a wrongness that made my teeth ache.
Five.
"Don’t give them an inch!" Malzaun bellowed, defiant.
We crossed the threshold.
The doors slammed shut behind us.
Steel clashed on the other side, fainter now, muffled by wood, magic, and the weight of what we'd entered.
I pressed my forehead against the carved surface, feeling the battle through it. Malzaun's unit was fighting with everything they had, buying us seconds that tasted like blood.
I turned from the doors.
And faced the throne.
