Her vision started to go black when his hand went limp and he fell back, dead. Air rushed into her lungs so quickly she gagged and fell over onto his chest as spasms raked her lungs.
Lying on his corpse, several emotions came to her at once: confusion, sorrow, guilt, anger. Her own father had tried to choke her, yet he had been the only father she had ever known. How was she supposed to feel?
The pressure of her emotions built up, but they never erupted into tears. Her eyes were frozen wide, staring at the blood staining the parts of her dress that were pressed in the growing puddle. “No,” she whispered. “No, no, no.” Her voice gave way to shuddering gasps as she buckled over onto his chest again and clutched him like she had only dreamed of doing when he was alive.
Sucking in a breath tinged with smoke, she pitched back her head and screamed in rage over the dead father she never knew, the haunting stranger she wanted to both kiss and strangle, the darker side of her that she feared and loathed, and the fact her life was falling apart at the seams.
“Lianora!” A man was shouting her name somewhere far in the distance.
Before she had time to look, a pair of strong hands wrapped around her waist and hauled her up. Clinging to her father’s robes, she shouted, “What are you doing? We can’t leave him!”
“He’s gone! We have to go!” And with that, he dragged her into the hall. Through the smoke she saw shaggy curls and a black military dress tunic.
Rowan.
He kneeled and tore off a piece of her dress.
“What are you –”
“Put this on,” he ordered. He hastily covered her mouth with the cloth, knotting it securely behind her messy blonde curls. “It’ll help with the smoke.” He grabbed her hand and shielded his mouth with his other arm. “Come on!”
They tore down the hallway, veering sharply to the right and tearing down several flights of stairs to the bottom floor. Flames leapt at them from all sides, and more than once they had to dodge bits of the ceiling as it collapsed, eaten away with fire. Her heart was pounding from running so hard, and they were nearly to the main entrance when she cried, “Wait!” She dug her feet in, jerking him to a halt.
He spun around. “What is it?”
Something’s wrong. I’m forgetting something, she thought, toying with the pull in her gut. Instinctively, she reached for her throat and gasped.
“The teardrop.”
The notion was ludicrous. She knew she shouldn’t, that she could die if she went back now. For all the trouble it had brought, it might even be a blessing that it would melt in the fire. But she knew she couldn’t leave without it. “I have to go back.”
“No, stop!” Rowan called, but she was already gone.
CHAPTER 15Oath
NO SOONER HAD LIANORA disappeared when a group of men Rowan had never seen before rounded the corner. They were strange, with glowing orange eyes and odd black armor made from feathers and leather. They had a feral look in their eyes and a predatory agility to the way they walked.
Orange eyes, just like my father has.
He studied them, not knowing if he should attack. One of the men spotted him and pointed, raising his sword. He yelled something in a language Rowan did not recognize. The others followed him as he charged down the hallway, their screams of battle carrying on the air.
Slipping into the defensive, he met them head-on and parried their attacks, disabling each of them as he went. One of the assailants managed to catch him off guard, knocking his sword from his hand and slamming him into a wall, but his adrenaline was pumping so hard he barely noticed. He grabbed hold of the man and kneed him in the stomach. When he slumped forward, Rowan made a fist and clipped him hard across the temple. The man fell to the floor unconscious. He could have sworn there were two more, but when he looked around him, he saw only flames.
Did they run straight through the fire?
He couldn’t risk waiting for Lianora if they were going for reinforcements.
She could kill us both. I could leave now, save myself. He shook his head, weighing his options. But she’s an heir, no matter how brainless. The people will need her, with the Duke dead and Ana-Elise missing.
He groaned. “You know what you have to do,” he told himself. Picking up his sword, he stumbled back up the staircase.
The smoke was now so thick in the hallway he could barely see three feet in front of him. He gagged as soot coated his throat, but he pushed on. He ducked as part of the roof collapsed, missing him by a few narrow inches.
They might not have anyone to fight if this damned blaze finishes me first.
Righting himself, he felt along the wall until he found the end of the hall that adjoined to the upper wing, where Lianora’s room was. He assumed that’s where she had run off to. He hoped his hunch was right.
Rounding the corner, he cupped his hands on either side of his mouth. “Lianora! Where are you?”
No answer.
He shouted again, but all he could hear was the hiss of the fire. Picking a direction, he began shoving doors open, calling her name each time, only to find an empty room or a locked door. Finally, at the last room, he found her.
She was on her hands and knees patting the floor, a crazed look on her ash-covered face. The dresser drawers had been pulled out, and her clothes were strewn about the room, like someone had sacked the place. He inched toward her. Her head jerked up, and he saw a look of terror on her face that had nothing to do with the fire.
“I can’t find it!” she shrieked. “Someone’s been in here!” She wildly gestured to the mess. “But… I can still feel it. I know it’s here. Gods, what have I done?”
Sheathing his sword, he kneeled beside her and took her by the shoulders. “What are you talking about?”
She shook her head irritably and kept feeling along the floor, as if he should already know what she was looking for. “The teardrop! I can’t find my teardrop!”
He groaned and grabbed her wrist. “We don’t have time for this. We have to get out of here.”
“No!” She jerked her hand free and scrambled to her feet. “You don’t understand. I have to find it!”
He stood up and glared at her. She’s crazy. If I don’t get us out of here, we’re both doomed.
It slowly clicked into place. His eyes sharpened, and he grabbed her arm again, twisting it so she was forced to turn to him. “Do you speak of the necklace?”
“What else?” she asked, her lip curling in a sneer.
His heart picked up. Perhaps I could find it before she does…
All around them, the fortress continued to fall apart, and the heat grew more oppressive by the second. His eyes flickered to the door. We could be ambushed at the blink of an eye. Do something, you fool!
Jaw flexing, he made a decision. Forget the necklace. You don’t know what it’s for, and it’s no good to you if you are dead!
Since he was obviously going to have to carry her out by force, he started to reach for her when a white sparkle caught his eye. Turning around, he saw a faint glimmer through the smoke.
Walking briskly toward it, he kneeled down on one knee and took off his glove. He patted the floor, but all he felt was hot carpet and a bit of debris from the burning room. Then his fingers ran over a cool coiled chain. He grasped it and lifted it up to find the necklace he had noticed her wearing these past few days.
“You found it!”
His grip tightened around the chain, and his jaw clenched as she scampered to him and held out her hand. When he didn’t move to give it to her, she said, “Well, what are you waiting for? Give it here.”
He hesitated, warring with himself. She has to come with me anyway. It won’t hurt for her to hold onto it a bit longer.
Begrudingly, he dropped the jewel into her open palm. A hefty sigh of relief escaped her lips and streams of sweat ran down her dirty face as she slipped the necklace over her head. She closed her eyes, looking much calmer despite the chaos all around.
He
stared at her dumbfounded when the sound of footsteps made his heart skip a beat. In one motion, he shoved her behind him and drew his sword as he spun around.
In the hallway, tall black boots materialized from the murky air followed by a rustle of feathers as the two men who had evaded him earlier entered the room. They eyed him like a pair of starving wolves.
“You’re a dead man,” one said. “I don’t care if you are the Alpha’s son.”
The other grinned, showing several teeth that had been filed down to points, like fangs.
What the hell are they talking about?
Rowan sized them up and swallowed hard, trying to maintain a hold on his courage. There was a rumbling in the background.
More men.
How many reinforcements had they brought? Three? Twenty?
They were trapped. There was no way he could fight off more than a handful by himself.
But you have to try. You are a knight of Accalia, the Black Knight. You swore an oath to protect your crown!
He cast a backward glance at the crystal. Without meaning to, his eyes caught Lian’s. They were frightened, but full of hope.
And trust.
With his jaw set, he turned and faced the enemy. “To hell with my father,” he muttered. “I am the Black Knight of Accalia, and I am no one’s dog.” Sweat slicked his neck and forehead. He crouched, bracing himself for the onslaught, but it never came. Without warning, a man pitched forward out of the smoke, landing a short distance from where they stood. His throat had been cut.
“What the –” blurted Rowan as Gabriel burst through the doorway.
The two men at the door turned to face him, but they were not fast enough. Gabriel disarmed and stabbed them both within seconds. Sheathing his sword, he leapt over the bodies to stand in front of Lianora. Something passed between their eyes, but before Rowan could reflect on it, more shouts resounded from the hall.
They’re getting closer.
His attention snapped forward, and in that moment, nothing else mattered except keeping Lianora safe.
His duty, his oath.
He started to move forward, but Gabriel clamped down on his forearm. “Wait,” he said, sheathing his sword. “There’s a window in here, on the wall directly behind us. If you can get to it, you might be able to escape by diving into the pool and swimming to the bank.”
Rowan rolled this idea over in his head, analyzing it from every angle. He was right. If they could make it that far without much trouble, then he could save Lianora. “What about them?” He jerked his head toward the hall.
Gabriel’s eyes darted to Lianora, then back to him. “I’ll take care of them. Nothing else matters except keeping her safe.”
Rowan frowned. They both knew this would not end well for him, possibly for all three of them.
Gabriel lowered his voice. “Do not fail me, or all of this will have been in vain.”
Rowan grunted in confirmation. He did not like this plan; he wanted to help. But it might be the only chance they had of getting out of there alive.
Gabriel looked once more at Lianora, who was shaking her head, before turning to look Rowan square on, an unreadable emotion passing over his face. “Promise me you will watch out for her and protect her to your last breath.”
Rowan returned his heavy stare, the weight of his promise sinking in. “I will.”
Gabriel studied him a second longer. Then he marched toward Lianora, took her face in both his hands, and kissed her.
The animal men spilled into the room out of the smoke, twenty pairs of orange eyes bearing crude axes and swords.
Gabriel pulled back, his eyes closed as he savored the kiss. He slowly opened his eyes and looked down at a speechless Lianora. “I’ll always love you. I wanted you to know that. Be safe. Be happy.”
“I want to help. You know I can,” she said fiercely.
“I’m afraid your bare hands won’t be much use against a sword,” he said. “Go.” He placed a rough, rushed kiss across her forehead, and before she could blink, he turned toward the ambush, cold menace sweeping over his features. At the same time he rounded, Gabriel pushed her toward Rowan, drew his sword, and charged toward the men, screaming ferociously as he plunged into the throng. Years of training kicked in as he ably dodged their advances, countering with several perfect moves of his own. It looked almost too easy, even outnumbered as he was, and Rowan’s jaw dropped as his own battle lust surged restlessly beneath his skin like lightning in his veins. He took a step forward.
Gabriel shook his head. “Go!”
Rowan caught his breath, watching the older knight fight.
“Go! I’ll hold them off!” Gabriel took down another man. “Get her out of here!”
Rowan nodded and grabbed a protesting Lianora by the wrist. She pulled back as Gabriel fatally wounded another assailant.
“Wait!” she called. “What about you?”
Gabriel paused and gave her a lop-sided smile. “I’ll be fine. Now go.” He said it gently, but his voice was firm.
She hesitated, and Rowan shook her hard. “We have to go.” He steered her to the back of the room toward the window while she thrashed and tried to break free. If they could just reach it in time…
Rowan heard grunts and cries of pain from behind him, and his jaw clenched. It took every ounce of discipline he had to keep from looking back. He had faith in Gabriel’s capabilities, had seen him in action, but Gabriel was just one man. Eventually, he would fatigue, and they would overwhelm him. He had to make sure Lianora was out of there before that happened.
Flipping his sword around, he broke the window with the pommel. He rapidly pushed away the remaining slivers of glass and stepped onto the sill. “Come on!” He held out his hand to Lianora. She looked at him then back at Gabriel. Their eyes met, and a man rushed at him from the side, tackling him to the floor. His bulky hands closed around his throat. Gabriel gasped and sputtered, and his eyes rolled over to where Rowan and Lianora stood watching.
“Get her out of here, Rowan!” he choked out, grappling with the man on top of him. Gabriel finally managed to roll the man to the side where he punched him square in the jaw, knocking him unconscious. By the time Gabriel stood up, two of the attackers had slid past him and were running toward the window.
In less than a blink, Rowan grabbed Lianora under the shoulders and lifted her to the windowsill.
“Swim!”
As the men were upon them, he pushed her out and grasped onto the frame for support as one of the men grabbed him. Rowan swung his elbow back, crushing the man’s nose. He leapt around and grabbed the top of the window frame. As the two men lunged at him again, he pulled himself up and kicked out with both feet. He caught the men in their stomachs and sent them flying backwards where they plowed into a third man who had been running to help them.
Without a second glance, he leapt out the window and dove into the pool below. Cool water enveloped him as he sunk lower and then rose, swimming upward when his momentum had ceased. When he surfaced, he scanned for Lianora and felt his muscles ease when he saw her climbing onto land.
“Thank the gods,” he sputtered through mouthfuls of water, swimming toward the embankment on the opposite side of the pool.
Lianora was stumbling around when he hauled himself onto the grass. Her pale green eyes were glazed over, and he saw the fire reflected in them as she stared, horrified, at the burning fortress. “Gabriel. Ana. Father,” she said in a tiny cracked voice over and over again.
There was a loud roar, almost like an explosion, above and behind him. Lianora screamed Gabriel’s name as Rowan turned around to discover that flames were greedily licking the window they had come through. Though it had consumed three quarters of the palace, the fire’s insatiable hunger could not be quenched, and it continued to spread, cracking the mortar until the weight of the heavy stone structure caused it to begin to crumble.
Lianora fell to her knees, her body trembling from shell shock as she stared at the
fire unblinking.
“Wake up!” he snapped, clasping her chin and forcing her to look at him. Though her eyes met his, it was as if she was looking through him and not at him. “If you sit here like a rock and let them catch us, then a lot of good jumping out the window will have done us!”
He tried to pick her up, but she would not budge. Finally resolving to drag her along if he had to, he firmly grabbed her under both of her arms and shoved and pulled her to the grassy plain that looped around the lake. He surveyed the area for more invaders as he struggled to maintain his hold on her. He could make out the dark outline of the forest less than a mile away, and he knew that would be their best bet for safety. Its dense cover would provide enough hiding places for them should they be sought out by the enemy, and having grown up in those woods, he was certain he could shield her from any harm that might threaten them.
And it was old, far older and more sacred than the monsters that would hunt them.
They won’t come into the forest. They are damned, all of them. They cannot cross sacred ground. The wood is Dreaka’s realm.
A screech ripped through the air that made his blood run cold.
A great shadow rose from the smoke. It spread two massive black wings, flinging sparks into the night. It wailed once more and fixed its beady orange eyes on them.
He took a single breath that echoed in that frozen fragment of time.
“Run!” He seized her arm and jerked her along, stumbling through holes and over rocks as they raced toward the forest.
The monster cried out as it swooped down the valley, its razor sharp claws closing in on them.
“Come on,” he said. They hobbled toward the forest, its leaves glowing with that odd light. They were both soaked to the brim, and the balmy night air was making it difficult to maintain a steady hold on her.
The smell of sulfur overwhelmed him, and he gagged. His legs were burning fiercely, but he kept running. The forest was less than ten feet in front of them.
Veiled Innocence (Book One, The Soul Cycle) Page 15
