The guard next to her fell heavily to the ground. He lay there, stunned from a surprise blow to the head, and he stared up at his attacker with glazed eyes.
Phoenix launched herself at the back of the attacker and wrapped her arms around his neck, hooking her leg around his knee to try and pull him backward. He made a choking noise and dropped his weapon. Large hands engulfed her arms and squeezed them so roughly that Phoenix gasped loudly in pain.
“I don’t care what he said,” the man rasped, twisting her arms painfully, “I’m going to delight in caving in your skull, Caller brat.”
He twisted his body roughly and Phoenix flew onto the floor. Her elbow hit the stone with a sharp crack, and she gasped as pain lanced through her arm like white-hot lightning.
A vicious blow made her grunt. The guard’s large boot had connected with her ribs, and Phoenix rolled in time to avoid another kick to her side.
Phoenix became stuck against the guard that still lay dazed on the floor. Her attacker’s expression turned to satisfaction when he realized her predicament.
He took a slow step forward, deliberately bringing his foot up next to her head. Before he could bring it down, a loud scream made him freeze in terror.
The air around her grew heavy. A slate-grey shaped slammed into the man, and Phoenix winced at the sound of bones snapping. He thrashed a moment before losing consciousness.
Answering roars filled the room, punctuated by the flapping of wings and the sound of countless footsteps as those who could, fled.
The creature turned and crouched down next to her, offering her a four-clawed hand to help her up. Rorin peered down at her anxiously, all but pulling her to her feet when she clutched his talons. “Are you all right?” he asked quickly.
Phoenix surveyed herself with a quick glance, then nodded.
“Thank you,” she said gratefully.
They both looked up as a man charged towards them, both weapon and shield were raised for battle and there was nothing but rage written all over his face. When he came into range, Rorin dropped down and whipped his body to the side. His tail lashed out and connected with the man’s shins with a sharp crack and he dropped to the floor clutching them and howling. Another man came up behind them and swung a heavy sword towards the gargoyle’s head.
“Watch out!” Phoenix cried, trying her best to alert the gargoyle as well as to grab ahold of him to pull him out of the way.
Rorin dodged easily and brought his arm bracers up to protect his face. The sword’s edge slid off of the thick metal with a terrible screech that set her teeth on edge. The sword swung free and both gargoyle and human stumbled as they tried quickly to regain their balance before the other.
Phoenix took that opportunity to dart in between them and grab at the man. He regained his footing before she could reach him, and he snapped his arms back quickly in order to try his attack again. With a grunt of effort, Phoenix launched herself at him with the intent to knock him down with her body. Instead, the man pivoted at the last instant and Phoenix was forced to use her toes to push herself backwards to avoid opening her side to his sword.
He brought his arms up again to swing, but, before he could move, Rorin had grabbed his arm and wrenched it to the side. Phoenix darted forward again and grabbed the man’s sword in an attempt to disarm him. When that failed she then resorted to other measures.
Phoenix used her anger to channel her Power through her fingers and into his sword. The metal became heated instantly, and it only took a moment before it became too hot to hold. the man yelped and quickly threw it down on the floor as forcefully as he could.
Rorin then twisted the man’s arm to spin him around so that he was facing him. A moment later, the gargoyle landed a solid blow to the man’s face and he fell unconscious to the floor.
The sounds of fighting and the clash of steel was all around them. Phoenix took a moment to assess their surroundings and so did Rorin. These were very few spectators left in the room. Everyone besides the wounded were engaged in combat, and Phoenix was surprised to note that many of the noblemen remained to fight.
A movement caught her eye and Phoenix turned to see a man attacking a young boy. He was dressed as a Trader, and Phoenix remembered him from the group of boys that had run drills in the courtyard. He was putting up a valiant fight, but he was not large enough to match the man’s strength. He was continually forced backwards until, eventually, he tripped on one of the stones that had fallen from the wall. He tried to regain his balance but he could not and, despite his attempts, he fell.
Phoenix knew that she was too far away, but she lurched forwards anyway and ran towards them. the boy covered his face as the man raised his sword for a killing blow. His arms swung downwards heavily, but the sword did not reach the boy.
A terrifying scream caused the man to pause mid-swing, as if his muscles had locked involuntarily. A winged body launched itself through the air and slammed into the man, kicking him to the ground. The body, a female gargoyle, moved to stand over him.
The gargoyle was massive. She stood taller than Rorin, and her muscular form was clothed in thick boiled leather that added enough extra girth that Phoenix was surprised to see that she could still fly. Her skin was a pale lavender, marred in places with darkened smudges of blood and dirt from fighting in the hall. Her tail lashed as she regarded her fallen target.
“Tika?” Rorin asked, coming to stand beside the humans.
“I’m fine,” the gargress said haltingly, as if she were unaccustomed to speaking aloud. She grinned, and Phoenix could see a flash of her fangs. “You always get invited to the best parties.”
Rorin raised an eyeridge sardonically but made no reply.
Tika turned to look down at the three of them. Her eyes were dark like Rorin’s, and when she fixated them on Phoenix, Phoenix was struck by the depth and age that showed in her gaze. She sniffed, evaluating Phoenix’s scent, assessing Phoenix a moment before her gaze shifted to the younger gargoyle. Take the hatchlings somewhere safe, Rorin. Leave this one to me.
Rorin nodded and looked around to find the best path to take. The boy, looking uncertain, stepped forward towards Tika. “T-thank you,” he said to her, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke. The gargress looked surprised, then she bared her fangs in what Phoenix could only assume was a smile. “You’re welcome, child,” she said in a friendly fashion.
Phoenix tugged on the boy’s sleeve, and the three left as Tika bent over and picked up the attacker by the front of his shirt. She held him as easily as Phoenix would hold a basket of clothes, and she could see the man’s face go pale as Tika gave him a smile that was significantly less friendly than the one she had given a moment ago.
Rorin and Phoenix helped the boy get to the safety of the corridor before they began looking around. The dais was empty, and Phoenix could hear that the sounds of fighting had moved to the courtyard.
“Master Malcourt’s gone,” she told Rorin..
“As is the King,” the gargoyle replied. They looked at each other for a long moment before they turned and ran towards the courtyard.
The field was destroyed. Carts were tipped over and various wares had been broken and strewn across the grounds. Phoenix had to hop over a pile of broken glass in order to walk the rest of the way onto the landing of the outside stairs.
“Lizard demon!” a man screamed at Rorin. The man then rushed towards them, but as he passed Phoenix she stuck out her foot to trip him. Rorin caught him as he fell and, with a fluid motion, the gargoyle flipped him over his shoulder and over the railing so that he fell into a pile of horse feed.
“I thought only gargoyles flew,” a dry voice said. Rorin smirked as Trader Alexandri bounded up the stairs to join the two of them at the top.
“It’s a common misconception,” the gargoyle told the boy seriously.
CHAPTER 26
Gargoyles were everywhere. Phoenix had not realized the number of creatures who were in attendance for the birthing celebrati
ons. When they were motionless they blended in so well with the stonework that it was easy to mistake them for statues if you weren’t looking for a living creature. Now that they were moving, however, she couldn’t help but pause to watch them in awe.
Their movement was so fluid that they appeared to be dancing. They were synchronous with their combat moves – blocking easily to let the other attack – and Phoenix could Hear the silent whispers between them that went unheard by their human opponents. The chill in the air clung to her skin, but she was surprised to see that the Fear was not affecting anyone.
Phoenix and Rorin had left Alexandri in the courtyard. The Trader was organizing his friends into different groups to find and help remove people from the fighting. Satisfied, Phoenix and Rorin turned back into the castle to look for Malcourt and the King.
Phoenix had not Heard from her Master since the fighting started.
The gargoyle was kneeling down to inspect a fallen guardsman. He was dead, Phoenix knew, but Rorin seemed more interested in his uniform as opposed to the health of the man.
“He’s one of Prince Hallan’s personal guards,” Phoenix told him, noting the different uniform. “Well… he was one,” she amended. “They came from Kaltor with the Prince.”
Rorin peered ahead and growled thoughtfully. “If he was slain here, then the Prince must have come this way – and that means that the King must have been with him.”
Phoenix nodded in agreement and assessed the corridor as well, as if she could somehow find something that the gargoyle’s long-reaching gaze could not.
“Here,” Rorin said, securing the guard’s belt knife and handing it to her. “You will need this.”
Phoenix nodded again and took the dagger from him. The weight of it was heavy, but it was also comfortable. It was well crafted – the blade was still sharp despite its apparent frequent use – but the thing that caught her attention was the strange emblem worked into the metal of the handle. It was strangely familiar, but she was unable to place it.
Rorin closed his wings to get them out of the way. She could feel a foreign tension assaulting her from the waves of Fear that the other gargoyles were sending out.
“We should go,” Rorin said, his body moving to act as a shield between her and the fighting. “Their blood runs hot from battle,” he said, indicating the humans around them. “The Fear will not work on them – but it may freeze you yet.”
Phoenix was only too happy to leave. “Down this way.” She pointed in the direction of the Royal Quarters with her dagger. It was more of a statement than a question. Trails of blood and obvious signs of fighting carved a path along the hallway. Rorin nodded grimly and the two continued on.
They moved soundlessly. It was strangely deserted where they were, despite the frenzy of activity in the adjoining areas of the castle. She was so used to the noise being dampened by distance that she yelped when a voice cut through the silence and straight through her skull. Rorin laid a hand on her shoulder and pressed a claw to his lips.
My Lord! The gargoyles are too strong! There are too many of them. What are your orders?
Rorin stopped moving and tilted his head to listen. Phoenix held her breath, hoping that when he responded she would be able to identify the man behind it all.
The silence stretched on. Phoenix and Rorin remained motionless as they strained to Hear the answer.
My Lord? The voice asked again, a hint of desperation in his tone. My Lor-
The voice cut off with a sickly sound. Phoenix, for a reason she couldn’t identify, got the distinct impression of an invisible sword entering through her ribs and slicing through her body. She gasped involuntarily and clutched at her chest. Next to her, Rorin shuddered and she knew that he had felt the same horror.
“Come on,” the gargoyle said, continuing down the hallway. “We have to find the others.”
“We should check the King’s Chambers,” Phoenix said, clearing the revulsion from her throat. “He is the target. That would probably be the first place that the assassin would go.”
“It’s the best place to start,” he agreed.
Blood caked the hallways. Phoenix did her best to avert her eyes when they came to a body, but she always stopped to wait when Rorin stooped to check if they were dead. Eventually, as they continued on, the gargoyle stopped pausing to check for life.
“Help me,” a voice implored weakly. Phoenix could see a pair of feet sticking out from behind a stone bench. She hurried over to find Sophie hiding in the corner, her hand pressed to a bloody wound in her side.
“Sophie!” Phoenix said, leaping behind the barrier to get to her friend. “What happened?”
“King Benedict passed by,” she said, coughing weakly, her usually vibrant face pale from pain. “A group of men attacked him, but I hit one of them,” her voice held some satisfaction as she nodded to a dented frying pan resting next to her on the floor. “I just wasn’t fast enough… Camden helped me here. Elise left to find help.”
“And Rae?” Phoenix pressed.
Sophie coughed again and gave a half smile. “Where do you think I got the frying pan? We left her in the kitchens. She insisted on making sure everyone got out.”
“Phoenix,” Rorin urged, crouching down next to them, “we have to hurry.”
Phoenix used the dagger to cut a large strip from the hem of her dress. ‘Here,” she said, handing the material to Sophie. “Use this as a bandage. You need to stop the bleeding.”
Sophie smiled weakly and began to wrap the strip around her torso. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Here,” Rorin said, taking a pinch of something from a pouch attached to his belt. He poured a small amount of powder into the palm of her hand. “Ground bloodwort. Sprinkle it on the wound. It will help to stop the bleeding.”
Phoenix squeezed the girl’s arm and accepted the talon that Rorin offered to help her to stand. Realizing that she still wore the shawl around her neck that the girl had given her, Phoenix removed it and draped it around Sophie’s shoulders. “We’ll be back as soon as we can,” she told the girl. “Promise.”
Sophie closed her eyes and rested her head against the wall behind her.
Phoenix felt horrible about leaving her there, but it couldn’t be helped.
An image of Sophie entered her mind as Rorin projected it to the rest of his flight. “Someone will help her as soon as they’re able,” he murmured, nodding to a nearby window.
Phoenix had trouble swallowing the lump of gratitude that formed in her throat.
A loud crash caused Phoenix’s head to snap back in the direction that they had been heading. Another crash, followed by a yell of fury, caused her and the gargoyle to take off at a run down the corridor.
There was a howl from a side room. An instant later, a man came running out of the room with a snarling Kit biting at his heels. In his panic, the mercenary ran towards Phoenix and Rorin while he tried desperately to kick the dog away at the same time. Rorin stepped forward and lifted his arm, and Phoenix watched as the man ran straight into it, striking his head on the gargoyle’s wrist bracers and falling unconscious to the floor.
Kit broke off her pursuit and trotted over to Phoenix with a satisfied snort.
“Good girl!” Phoenix told her, rubbing the dog’s body all over vigorously. She had to blink back the tears of relief when she saw that the dog was unharmed.
Rorin frowned and stepped over the unconscious human dismissively. “We must be close if she is here. She must have stayed close to King Benedict and the others… If only we could Speak to them,” Rorin growled, his silted eyes scanning the staircase to the royal chambers slowly. “I’m assuming that the one behind all of this could Hear us, otherwise we would have Heard from the others by now.”
“Rorin,” Phoenix said hesitantly, “if the planner can Hear, then he probably has other Power as well.” As worrisome as that though was, Phoenix was grateful that Rorin had not assumed that the others were dead.
Rorin looked
grim. He nodded. “We’ll have to be extra careful, then.” He put a claw to his lips and nodded ahead of them. He took the lead and, gripping her dagger so tightly that her knuckles turned white, Phoenix followed him up the stairs and through the double doors.
The main room was a mess. Tables and chairs were overturned and lay in scattered pieces around the room. Scorch marks were fresh on the walls, and by their erratic patterns Phoenix knew that they weren’t from any kind of natural fire.
“Malcourt…” she whispered softly.
There was a stirring near to them. The next instant, a woman jumped out of the shadows and brandished a sword at them. Phoenix’s body shifted into one of the defensive positions that she had learned. She held the dagger between her and the woman instinctually. Next to her, Rorin had done the same.
The three of them stood like that for a moment, then the woman took a hesitant step forward.
“Phoenix?” she whispered hopefully.
Phoenix paused. “Sylvia?”
With a soft sob, Sylvia ran forward and pulled Phoenix into a tight hug. “Oh, child,” the woman whispered into her hair, “I thought the worst when I didn’t see you with the others. I just assumed…”
“Healer,” Rorin said urgently, “we must find the King…”
Sylvia sniffed. “Of course, gargoyle,” she said, letting her sword dip so that the tip of it was resting on the ground. It looked heavy, Phoenix thought, and she was surprised that the woman could lift it up at all. The King’s emblem was etched prominently on its blade, and, having seen it often enough, Phoenix knew that it belonged to Captain Rolf.
“They fought their way into the sleeping rooms,” Sylvia told them, dragging the sword back to where she had been previously standing. Phoenix could see Captain Rolf’s body lying on the floor. A large pool of blood was underneath him.
“I stayed here,” she continued, kneeling next to the Guardscaptain. “I’ve been trying to keep him alive.” Her voice cracked and she said softly, “The blow was meant for Tolen. He saved his life.”
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