I dodged another swipe of powerful wings from my attacker. Three soldiers circled me, pushing me back toward an alleyway. I sent another blast of magic at the one in the lead. He grunted as he twisted, avoiding the orb and using his wings for balance. From how they smirked at me, they knew my magic was starting to dwindle. The leanest soldier charged first, his war cry echoing off the stone walls of the alley. I tossed an emerald orb at his face. One second, he was charging forward, and the next, his body met the ground. Ha! I may have been tired, but I was still lethal.
It did not stop the other two who had me cornered. Loss of life didn’t seem to be an issue for them. A blade sliced at my hands, and I spun right, my shoulder burning from the cut. A hiss left my lips as I kneeled and spun, using the low angle to slip a shot of magic through his defenses. His blade took the brunt of it, glowing for a moment before snapping in half. His partner charged me, probably thinking I was easy prey on my knees. It was a dumb assumption on his part, and he realized the error of his ways when he saw my other hand behind my back, glowing bright green and aimed at him. His cry of surprise died as he fell, the hole I blasted in his chest steaming.
My victory was short-lived. The soldier with the bird across his chest loomed over me, his broken blade raised for a strike. I raised my hands, but he anticipated that and ducked. He spun, sweeping his wings toward me. I curled away, and the edges scraped the stone wall behind me, scoring it deep.
Holy fuck, those were sharp.
I spun, expecting that broken blade to be coming at my face, but he just stood there. His eyes were wide and fixed on me. As if in slow motion, he fell forward, and I saw the blade buried in the back of his helmet. Vincent stood in his place, glaring at me and panting hard.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his gaze roving over me, checking for damage.
I nodded and rose to my full height, my body still teetering on that line between exhaustion and survival.
“Yes, I think so. You don’t look so well, though. Are you okay?”
He looked like he had wrestled someone on the ground. He was covered in dirt and bruises, blood seeping from his split lip and the slice across his cheek. His knuckles were raw and his clothes torn, but his tattered half cloak still clung to him.
“I’ll survive,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me down the alleyway.
Loud booms shook the city, windows trembling in their frames as more ships entered the atmosphere. We kept moving, staying close to the wall and peering up at the sky. Even with Dianna and Samkiel here and fighting, more were coming, and I knew why.
“All of this because she wants the medallion,” I said, wearily pushing my hair out of my face.
“Not just that, but me.” Vincent ran a defeated hand across his brow. “Nismera never forgives, and she most certainly never forgets.”
I wondered what our fate would be if they succeeded in taking us, and then I remembered the dungeon far below her palace, the smells and screams, and I knew what she would do to us would be ten times worse.
“We need to get off the street,” I said as we passed a few back alley doorways.
“Way ahead of yo—”
My head erupted with pain, and my stomach clenched. The piercing sound made me wobble. I ripped my hand from his and covered my ears as the reverberation penetrated my eardrums, moisture coating my palms. My vision blurred, and we dropped to our knees. Still, the ultrasonic energy continued to bellow, battering at us. I screamed, even if it couldn’t be heard, my elbows resting against the stone as I curled into myself. My magic did not stir or react, the noise strangling it. Vincent struggled to crawl to me, his mouth moving as he shouted something. His form was blurry, fading in and out, but I could see that blood was pouring from his eyes, nose, and ear.
Soldiers dropped from the sky, their wings flared wide and their heads completely covered. They strolled casually toward us, and two of them yanked Vincent to his feet, the sonic weapon seeming not to affect them. A boot landed against the back of my neck, pressing my face against the stone as another adrueth wrapped a thin rope around my wrists. He stood and pulled hard, nearly dislocating my shoulders as he stretched my arms out in front of me. I saw the light reflect off the sword as it fell, but the soul-shattering noise had my nervous system so overwhelmed and incapacitated that I barely felt it when he took my hands.
As quickly as it started, it ended, and when the adrueth female with purple braids lowered a hand-sized silver metal device, I realized she had controlled it from the ship hanging above us. Vincent’s scream of horror took the place of the ringing in my ears, and my heart ached as pain exploded up my arms. My vision returned, no longer blurred and fractured. I stared down at my severed hands, biting back a groan of despair. Blood spurted from my wrists with every beat of my heart, and I called on my magic to slow it so I didn’t bleed to death on my knees in this alley.
“We’ve been hunting you two for a while now,” the female said. “Guess a traitor can’t run forever.”
Vincent spat at her feet, and with a grin, she kicked him in the gut. He groaned, doubling over. The soldiers yanked Vincent’s arms back, the muscles straining as they forced him back into place. He bared bloody teeth, struggling to get his lungs to inflate. A tall adrueth held my gaze as he stepped up behind Vincent. His head was half-shaven, but the black of his hair was a stark contrast to his wings. He grinned, touching his blade against Vincent’s throat. Blood the color of the sea spilled over the steel, and I knew if he pressed a fraction deeper, he would hit his jugular, and with enough strength, he could remove his head.
Both of us were tired and battered, but the pain of watching his blood flow down his chest and knowing I could lose him right there fueled my anger. Magic rose in me, heating my blood and coating the stumps of my wrists. Shock flashed in Vincent’s gaze.
“Where is the medallion?” the purple-haired female asked, clasping her hands in front of her.
Vincent snarled, and another rush of blood slipped over the blade.
“And you expect me just to hand it over?” I asked, flashing a smile and holding up the shaking stumps where my hands had been. “If I do, you’ll kill us both. So, how about a trade? His life for the medallion,” my eyes met his before flicking back to her, “and me.”
A ripple of laughter went through the soldiers, but my lips didn’t even twitch. Their amusement turned to disbelief when they realized I was very serious.
“You’re dead either way. Both of you. The medallion is all we need,” she said.
My mind reeled. I figured as much, but for Nismera not to even consider us worthy of punishment meant …
“Why? It’s just a hunk of metal.”
A few of them snickered again, and the female adrueth walked toward me, pulling a long broadsword from its sheath at her back. Idly, I wondered how much practice it took to do that without cutting her wings. She angled the point at my throat, tipping my head up with the flat of the blade and forcing me to sit back on my heels.
