Page 163 of The Last Hope
“HEYA!” I spit, and she whirls toward me. I scoot my body up against the bed, and my fortitude grips her attention. I taunt, “You think you’re so mighty?”
She stalks closer.
Court is still whispering to the baby.
“You’re all alone now.” My lip begins to curve upward. “Where I’m from, you’d be no one and nothin’—not even the God of Victory would waste breath on your ugly spirit.”
Jolee grimaces and with one last twirl of the weapon, she presses the cold metal up againstmyneck. I stiffen, feeling Court’s distress spike my pulse.
He is screaming inside, but outwardly, he’s more urgent. Forcing himself not to yell my name.
I’m all right, Court.
I try to feel at ease, but Jolee has the battle-ax flush on my skin, the force strong enough to nick the flesh. Blood trickles.
Fear like nothing I’ve felt before rushes into me with a sickening darkness. It’s not just mine. Court.
Franny.
Jolee whips her head around—and Court disappears in a blink before she can see him.
I expel a breath.
Her eyes blaze with a panicked fury. “Show yourself! Or I take his head!”
The door to the suite swings open. In a flood of panic, Stork and Franny storm inside without a second thought.
“MYKAL!” Franny screams.
The pressure on my neck intensifies, and I reach out to grip her wrist. To pry the damned weapon from her hand, but she swings the blade back—and she’s about to cut my neck cleanly.
“NOOO!” Franny cries out.
Just as Jolee whirls the ax at my head, Stork dives out in front of me. Wet, cold blood sprays my face as the blade slices through his arm.My brother.
Stork tumbles to the floor, his arm chopped right off—and at the same time, an invisible Court stabs sea glass into Jolee’s windpipe.
She gurgles, the ax slipping from her hands. She touches her throat and falls to her knees.
Stork groans in sheer, unadulterated agony, and I slide to him with bound ankles. I tear off my shirt and use the fabric to help stop the bleeding.
“Court?!” I call out, panicked. He needs a doctor. My baby brother needs a doctor. His face is losing color fast.
“MykalMykalMykal,” Stork says in a staggered breath. “I can’t die.”
Franny snatches up the ax and hurries to me. “Mykal, your ankles.”
I show her the clamps, and she swings and breaks the metal lock.
Freeing me completely.
Court is checking on Zimmer. The skinny Fast-Tracker moans and coughs up a bit of water. I think they were drowning him in the bathtub. He assesses him before going to Stork.
Someone will be needing to carry Zimmer. I pick myself off the ground, my bones shrieking. My hand hurts the worst. I reach Zimmer, and with aching muscles, I heave him up in my arms.
“They’ll wake up soon,” Franny reminds us, her eyes darting to each of the fallenRomuluscadets. Strewn limply around the suite.
They’re all Saltarian. Nothing can kill them. Not even sea glass to the throat.
