Page 52 of Fortune's Blade

Go get him, I thought dizzily, as the world tumbled around us, sending us rolling again. Our dragon was still clutched in one of Steen’s giant claws, which meant that we were caught up in the biggest, baddest, no holds barred throwdown in, well, my history anyway. Which was saying less than it used to, I thought, as I lost my grip on Louis-Cesare, fell what felt like at least a couple stories as our ride did a loop-de-loop, and bounced off of a rubbery wall.

And then was jerked against a possibly genuinely insane man, who was about to shake me to death one minute, and was hugging me so hard the next that I thought I might burst.

“No time,” I gasped out, right before the shaking recommenced.

“Did you hear me?” Louis-Cesare yelled—straight into my ear.

“Ahhh! No! What?” I stared at him, but only saw a vision of my own, very wigged out expression looking back at me, since I was still seeing through his eyes.

“—chute, chute, we have to get to the chute!”

“What?” It was really hard to concentrate, since we should have gone rolling again, and falling, and slapping ourselves silly ricocheting off of walls because the fight outside appeared to have escalated. But Louis-Cesare had buried one foot in the flesh below us, as well as most of his sword, and when he pulled us into a crouching position, we stayed there. Even though I could only tell which direction we were facing by which way my hair was falling.

And then the shaking recommenced. “The parachute!”

“What? Oh. I don’t have one!” I screamed, because the battle taking place outside was so loud that I could hardly hear myself think.

“Quoi?”

“I. Don’t. Have. One. Or don’t you think I’d have used it by now?”

“Yes, you do!” the stubborn man said. And then he moved, somehow keeping to his feet and towing me behind him as we tore across the wildly bouncing floor, which was less like a trampoline now and more like rubber waves on a wildly thrashing sea.

But we made it, as well as through the small opening of the portal that was somehow still holding together, and into my arsenal. Where I stood, barely keeping to my feet although the bucking and twisting was a lot less pronounced in here. But it wasn’t gone, meaning that we should probably get away before this whole thing collapsed.

It was something I tried to point out, but kept falling on my ass before I could. Although that was less because of the shaking of the room and more because my senses were messed up by the dizziness of that headlong plunge. And because I still couldn’t see!

Except for what Louis-Cesare was looking at on the other side of the room, which was a quick succession of items from my formerly orderly treasure trove. He was digging them out of the jumbled mess, cursing and muttering and staring at things for less than a second before throwing them away. Which was fair, as half of them were on fire.

At least that explains the quality of the air in here, I thought, and finally managed to wheezed out a piece of advice. “Hurry . . ..”

Louis-Cesare said something in French that I didn’t bother to translate, as it didn’t sound complimentary. But then he obliged anyway, emerging from the shadows with something in his hand. I couldn’t see it, since it was currently below the line of his vision and therefore of mine.

He seemed to realize that after a second, and held it up in front of his eyes.

And, yes, that appeared to be a neatly packed parachute.

“Where did that come from?” I demanded, grabbing the wall and getting back to my feet for the dozenth time.

“I brought it!”

“And you didn’t tell me?” My freaked-out face suddenly looked pissed, which Louis-Cesare took exception to.

“You argued with Claire over food!” he said, gesturing about, because the French talk almost as much with their hands as the Italians. Or, at least, mine does. “You wouldn’t even bring a small pantry as it would displace some of your precious—what are you doing?”

He broke off, probably because I was feeling about on the wall, trying to remember where—

Yes! There it was. I flipped a small switch before spinning on a dime—

And almost falling over again, only Louis-Cesare was there to catch me. “Dory?”

I couldn’t see his blue eyes at the moment, only my own, slightly unfocused dark ones. But I knew they were worried, and that there was a little line in between them. I grasped his hand and pressed it reassuringly.

“Running,” I said, and pulled him toward the door.

He pulled back. “What?”

“You asked me what I was doing. Running.”

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