Page 132 of The Nymph King

A puff of dust surrounded him, and he restrained a sneeze, wondering if anyone occupied this part of the tower. Based on the darkness and the dust, it seemed unlikely, but he was infiltrating the enemy and couldn’t be too careful. Grabbing his wand from his mouth, he stood and dusted off his pants before twisting back to check his wound. The bleeding had slowed, but a large black stain covered half his shirt. Kiran rolled his shoulders, ignored the pain, and glanced around.

The room was abandoned, with piles of old furniture stacked up against the wall and a thick layer of dust covering everything. Dim light slanted through the door and fell across the floor, and he waved his hand over the wood, checking for wards.

A few rippled back at him in warning.

Smart. Ellisar was smart. Smarter than Tanyl ever had been.

But Kiran knew more tricks. With a decisive swipe, he used the blood from his wound to imbue the ward-breaking spell with flesh magic, and after a few attempts, the spell cracked, then fell away.

A loud screech filled the stairwell when he opened the door.

Warning bells. Kiran swore under his breath and started running down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Ellisar and Imani had rigged their security to detect any tampering. He’d known it was a risk, but the sound put a clock on his plan.

The descent was endless, a dizzying spiral of stone that left his legs burning by the time he reached the bottom. In the sumptuous hallway, his boots sank into the deep carpet, and he ran his free hand through his hair. One servant bustled about at the end and eyed him suspiciously. With a snap of his wand, she fell to the ground. He never promised himself there’d be no casualties.

Kiran kept moving south, toward where he knew the royal wing was, despite the screeching still blaring through the corridors. A trickle of blood fell onto the white carpet from his back, but he ignored it and slipped deeper into the palace.

Two more guards came running, and he slashed their necks open, causing them to topple over.

Finally, the hallway opened wider, and sconces lit the space with dancing light. Guards swarmed at the end, their presence enough to confirm Kiran’s suspicion. Ellisar was inside.

A fresh wave of adrenaline hit him full force, and he nearly trembled as his magic thrummed in his blood. He lived for this rush, and it had been too long since he killed someone he hated this much.

Kiran raised his arms wide, gripping his wand as a manic smile spread across his face.

Several guards turned and pointed.

“It’s him! It’s the intruder! Get him!” one commanded. Wands snapped out in front of faces.

Kiran laughed, then arced his wand overhead. Magic answered and tore through the first line of guards in a single surge, hurling bodies back as the spell hit them full on, armor cracking and limbs breaking under the impact before they even reached him.

More flanked in from the sides, weapons raised, voices rising into shouts that cut off as they approached. Steel struck, magic flared in response, but it never reached him. He ducked through the besieging spells, turning their attacks aside and redirecting the guards back into them in wide bursts that dropped them in clusters, several at a time, each strike ripping through the formation before it could grab onto him.

Metal clashed, grunts sounded, and breath broke into sharp bursts that turned into something worse as bodies hit the ground. Short cries. Choked gasps. Impact after impact as they fell and did not rise again.

His gleeful smile never fell.

He advanced through them with even swipes of his wand, magic bursting forth. He stepped over the fallen as the last of the resistance collapsed before him, his attention already moving beyond the fight. The ward-locked door loomed ahead, untouched by the chaos behind him.

Wailing alarms still echoed around him, but Kiran could barely hear them anymore over the hammering of his own heart.

Pounding feet above drew his attention for a second. They were sending reinforcements. Steeling himself, Kiran reached for another spell and started cracking through Ellisar’s shields.

More shouts rang up from down the hall. He shot a glance over his shoulder and found a mass of guards forming at the end.

He ignored them and sent another surge of magic pummeling against the barrier. The interlocking spells rippled and bulged, but they were woven so tightly that they snapped back into place after a moment.

With a growl, he struck again.

And again.

He had to admit the defensive magic was some of the most sophisticated he’d encountered.

But not impressive enough to stop him.

Fisting his wand with both hands, he raised it over his head. Magic gathered in his muscles and blood, dancing across his skin as he let his power build until it crescendoed into a force he could no longer contain.

Roaring, he unleashed his magic in a shockwave that cracked the walls and sent pieces of the ceiling crumbling onto the floor. He heard several bodies drop behind him and grinned.