Page 178 of Bloodguard

I nod. Yeah. It’s all come down to trust.

“Ignore the music once you’re up there and stay low,” I instruct. “Only move if there’s no other choice.”

The music stops. Again, I narrowly miss being impaled, taking Pega with me. I pull her to her feet in less time than it takes the spears to withdraw.

“Climb, now,” I order.

I take in our surroundings. We passed Pega’s crate at least three times—no doubt an effort to tire us out. We are immediately to the right of it now, the vampire colt on its other side.

My plan isn’t perfect. I’m not sure we’ll make it. Still, Pega has hope, I have hope, and sometimes, that’s enough.

Pega reaches the top of the crate, and I’m readying myself to break the next set of locks when a streak of fire blazes in my peripheral vision and the crate Pega was in explodes.

We’re thrown so roughly and unexpectedly that my ogren axe flies from my hand. I land in a roll to protect my body, the hilt of the king’s sword striking me in the ribs. When I realize how far I rolled toward the edge of the red circle, I scramble away. The sand I kick in my haste strikes the red line, and a wall of fire erupts, the heat as unbearable as if I were tossed into the inferno myself. Well, that answers what happens if someone steps out of the circle.

The blast angers the beasts inside the crates. They roar, howl, and claw, except for the colt. She slams her hooves against the wood, neighing in that freakish way.

The noise rattles my senses. Has the melody resumed, or is the orchestra waiting to start? I stumble to where Pega lies on the sand just in front of the crate she was blown off of. Her face is deathly pale, and her broken arm is twisted in the wrong direction.

I press my back against the unopened crate and look toward where Soro waits. He leans one foot along the stone edge, and the other is planted on the floor of the royal box. His hands carry a bow, the servant beside him ready to light another flaming arrow at his command. His face is lit up in sheer childlike delight. He set fire to Pega’s crate.

Two guards are holding Maeve by the arms as Ugeen watches her. She curses and kicks and fights her way to Soro only to be hauled back to her seat. As it is, the flames are eating away at the crate and its surrounding space.

I ball my hands into fists so hard my knuckles crack. I glare at the door to my next adventure.

Slowly and deliberately, I turn my head in Pega’s direction. “Climb,” I say. “Now.”

My voice is no longer patient. It’s cold, it’s lethal, and it belongs to a man who needs to get shit done.

Pega attempts to scramble up with one arm, but she doesn’t get far.

I boost her up by her heel. I’m so frantic, I practically throw her to the top, muscular dwarf or not.

The colt shrieks out another whinny while long claws protrude through a damaged crate across the circle from me. At this pace, they won’t need me to break them free.

I need to keep going.

I don’t know what’s going to emerge from this crate in front of me. Whatever it is, it’s hissing. It will either crawl or slither out, then immediately target my throat.

Let it. I didn’t come this far to cower.

chapter 65

Leith

I jump up and latch onto the top of the crate. Using the heel of my boot, I kick down and strike one of the locks.

Again and again I come down on it hard until my ankle threatens to break.

I’m almost forced to use the sword. Almost.

But my next attempt does it. I bust the latch free and break open the corner of the door.

That’s all it takes for a sea serpent to shoot through the opening and attack. It’s young, probably four feet long and a quarter as wide. I doubt it’s ever fought a human before.

I punch the thing so hard in the head, its fangs clatter.

The skull is rock hard, and my fist throbs. In the time since Maeve began treating me, my left hand has recovered enough to mostly make a fist, so I punch it with that one, too.

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