Page 123 of Bloodguard

My rage surges.

And my hands dart forward.

I dig my thumbs into the eyes of the dwarf choking me. He tightens his grip, and I sputter and wheeze and dig in harder. Our struggle ends with a squelching and splatter and two massive hooves to the head.

His body flies off me, and I lunge for the stunned elf who holds my sword. Air returns to fill my lungs from one gasp to the next. The fools who tried restraining Knight have been reduced to a bloody pulp in the grass.

Streaks of blood roll down my face as I stare in the direction where Father holds his bloody sword. He’s covered in bruises and cuts, and blood gushes from his left shoulder. But he’s still fighting.

“You willnothurt my daughter!” he yells.

I smile through my pain. I didn’t have a good father. I had two amazing ones.

Moreguards arrive on horseback in green-and-blue armor. At least ten more soldiers. With only two of us left, we’re ill-prepared for such numbers. Father and I exchange glances and run, sprinting across the lawn.

“Get to that wagon,” he says. I follow his gaze to a covered wagon spilling with looted art and valuables. It’s not far. Just across the lawn, abandoned near a copse of wizard’s elm. “If we take out the guards, we can take Neela, the horses, and the surviving estrellas to safety.”

“Yes, Father,” I answer.

Despite his weakened state, he’s faster than me, the way he powers over the grass appearing effortless.

No longer do I see the man with the broken heart. He’s long gone. Nor is this the man who played with me as a child, who read to me every night, who held me when I hurt. This is the famed warrior he was before.

I push myself harder, trying to close the distance between us while every inch of my body screams in protest.

I want to share his strength, his wisdom, his kindness.

He is my father, the man who pledged to love me as his own.

And he is a wonder.

Father reaches the wagon.

I swing my sword, straining to help him. But the guards are many, and I don’t see the one with the spear aimed at my back.

Father does.

He doubles back, leaping in front of me.

And spares my heart…

With his.

I drop my sword, trying to catch him in my arms. We fall together, the torment he feels reflecting in his dulling eyes.

No…

No…

No!

“Become the queen,” he says. His words waver, each one barely above a whisper. “Arrow needs you.”

“Father…”

I’m yanked away from him as a mountain troll breaks through the dense crowd of guards, rumbling obscenities through his jagged teeth. “Fools! You could have killed her,” he says.

“If you kill the princess, Soro kills you, understood?” Another voice. Loud. Human.

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