She’s fastening a leather breastplate to her chest. It’s a traditional Ophir design, painted in swirls of red and gold. “Where’d you get that?” I ask.
“Darius sent it over before he left,” she explains. “It’s a raid, isn’t it?”
“A dozen Laconian ships, I heard. Come on—they’ll need our help,” I say, just as a blast tears through the side of the room. “Watch out!” I shout, throwing myself in front of her to block her from the attack.
The blast opened a hole that suddenly rips open wider. A figure climbs inside the room. A Blackcoat from Lacon. His eyes are fixed squarely on Gin.
I react without another thought, pulling my dagger from its scabbard, furious at the thought of any danger coming to her. I tear across the room, stumbling into a chair, knocking a table to the ground. The Blackcoat is focused on Gin and doesn’t see me coming at him from behind. I drive my shoulder into the small of his back. With a grunt, I hit him with everything I have, but he doesn’t fall. He spins, pivoting, planting his feet to absorb the blow as he sizes me up, looking me up and down, his eyes filled with disdain. It’s the same look Blackcoats have been giving me since my earliest memory, that cruel stare that tells me I’m lesser, that I’m no one.
The harsh sound of metal striking metal fills the room.
Gin struck him with the breastplate. Not having a weapon, she turned her armor into one. Clever. But now she’s both weaponless and defenseless and she staggers backward, the Blackcoat grinning, wondering which of us he ought to kill first.
I cut the air with my blade, hoping to draw him to me. Instead, he lifts the chair I stumbled into and tosses it at me, then turns to Gin, blade raised for the killing blow. She’s backed up against the wall, a heavy tarp. There’s nowhere for her to run, nowhere to go, and I see the panic in her eyes, sweat running down her face.
I let the heavy wooden chair hit me. I don’t flinch. I take the blow without slowing, my fingers wrapped tightly around the pommel of the dagger. I see a place where the Blackcoat’s armor is thin, a gap in the heavy plates. I put two hands on the base and drive the blade into it. The steel hits something hard yet flexible. Rings of steel or chain mail. The armor snaps and breaks, the rings pulling apart, spreading for my blade. The man grunts as the dagger parts his flesh. He hits me hard on the head with a gauntlet fist and my vision goes black. He curses me and strikes me again. He calls me every foul word he can muster. There’s a ringing in my ears, but I don’t stop. I force the blade deeper into his back and he hits me again.
I scream out my fury and put all of my strength into the attack, pushing until the dagger bottoms out and warm wet blood flows over my hands. It’s done. I stagger backward. My vision returning, I search frantically for Gin, my heart in my throat. If she’s hurt… Finally I see that she’s pressed up against the wall, immobile. Unharmed, thank the spirits. Shocked perhaps.
“You okay?” I ask.
She’s too startled for words, so she just nods. It’s enough. She’s all right. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more relief than at that moment.
The Blackcoat falls to the ground, his stare blank, arms limp.
I nearly fall over on top of him. My every breath is a gasp, and I stand half bent over for a heartbeat, trying to calm myself. More of them could appear at any instant. There’s no time for rest.
I get to my feet and look down at the dead man. “That one’s for Vergel,” I say.
I spot Gin’s sword, sheathed, leaning against a chair. I grab it and throw it to her. She reaches out and catches it in midair.
Impressive. I suppose the shock has passed.
“Thanks,” she says.
“No need,” I tell her. “Come on, let’s get rid of these bastards.”
CHAPTER NINETEENGIN
As we run through the maze of tents, dashing among the waving cloth doorways left open when the people fled, all I can think about is how strong Eban is, and how brave, how he threw himself upon that Blackcoat to save me without a moment of hesitation. I’m alive because of him. He’s saved my life twice now. Echoes of commotion float toward us from the edge of the docks, but in the heart of the city, it’s eerily silent and desolate. At a corner, I stop abruptly. Eban nearly runs into me. “Did you hear that?” I whisper.
Eban shakes his head.
Hear what?a little voice responds from my pocket.
I shush her.
Eban shrugs and shakes his head again.
I point to the left. Then it happens again, much louder: a muffled cry.
Without another thought, I take off running at the sound. Eban follows closely behind. The noise gets louder. A deep grunt, followed by a thud, and another terrified, but muted, yell.
It’s to the right. I turn another corner and find the source of the alarming noises.
Perlah, Darius’s second-in-command, is on the ground, with a piece of fabric shoved in her mouth. A Blackcoat stands over her, back turned to us, his fist raised above her face, poised to land another blow. She spots us coming and tries to yell.
As the Blackcoat turns to look, we pull out our blades. Rage fills my entire body as I leap at him and slash across his throat. At the same moment, Eban barrels into him, driving his knife into the man’s torso.
