Page 16 of The Princesses of Ruin
The alchemist hardens his jaw and nods. “The Spiders are capable. You should ride south off the main road to avoid this confrontation.”
“Avoid it?” I laugh. “Fighting’s the next best thing to fucking, Adrik.”
His high, pale cheeks brighten with pink. “You’re the captain. Your vessel needs you.”
“And if theseSpidersare as capable as you say, I’ll be safest right here with the convoy,” I say, loving the way he squirms at the obvious logic. He mumbles something in Seterian along the lines of hoping he’s right, and focuses his gaze on the ipsain.
Just up the road, the heartbeats of those lying in wait are fast, and excited. I turn my focus on them and the gentle patter of soft-soled shoes leaping across ashy cobblestones. My mind’s eye turns the sounds into images with ease, a rainbow of chromesthesia before me.
I watch the six assassins dash down the alley ahead of us. They haven’t detected Andrew and his two soldiers following in the alley parallel, but even his quiet, magic spider legs can’t escape my magus sense.
I pull my pistol and cock the hammer, listening for the assassin in the lead who thinks they’re well-hidden with their magic. I can’t see him with my eyes, but my ears know exactly where he breathes.
The donkey passes the alley, but the assassins are waiting to spring their trap until they have our backs. I slow my horse, ensuring Adrik is obscured from view, and take aim at the assassin’s nose in a flash, trusting my magic to guide my hand.
The trigger snaps back and the hammer bangs down on the loaded shell. There’s a wetthwackand a body materializes in a spray of pink that coats the morning mist. In a blink, the five assassins behind him become visible, all frozen on the spot for a fraction of a breath.
Then they charge.
Their eyes ooze black smoke, as do their open mouths as they scream a war cry as one. I turn my horse to face them head-on and fire on the next assassin. My bullet carves a path across a shield that shimmers like the night, diverting away from my target and embedding in the burnt pillar beside him.
“Well, that’s a problem,” I mutter, holstering my pistol.
A Spider jumps in front of the lead attacker, burying a blade in his gut. He doesn’t go down, though, grasping Andrew’s soldier by the throat. The black in his mouth surges into the Spider’s exposed eyes.
Teal magic zips through the air like a spear from ahead, but it fizzles in a shower of icy sparkles against the black shield enveloping the two. The Spider screams as the dark ooze infiltrates their mask and surges down their throat.
What in the fuck am I witnessing?
“Go!” Andrew bellows to the wagon driver as the remaining assassins dodge around the convulsing soldier.
The driver slaps the reins on the donkey’s back and the creature brays, then takes off at a faster trot. I watch them go, my gaze catching Adrik’s as he jostles with the rough ride. He’ll be fine.
Two more infected assassins lurch forward, and I rear my horse, hitting the first one square on the chest with a powerful kick. They fall back into the next man, but the last in the alley evades the bodies and keeps coming—
Straight forme.
Andrew’s teal spider leg snaps out, batting the runner back. His magic hits their dark shield, rendering the assassin uninjured, but the hit makes him stagger.
Chaos ensues.
The Spiders descend on the would-be ambushers, but each of our enemies is equipped with one of the blackened shields that deflect all magic. The soldier infected with the black ooze turns, fighting beside the assassins.
“Go with the wagon!” Andrew yells, his glowing eyes locked on me.
“Do you even know me?” I ask, drawing my urictsa saber. Let’s see their fancy shield deflect the cutting power of an anti-magic blade.
I swing down on the next attacker, and my sword slices into their magic barrier, but doesn’t fully penetrate it.
What in the nine hells?
The man reaches for me, his hands covered in the same black goop that infected the other Spider. I pull my foot from the stirrup and kick him in the face, but not before his hands rake down my thigh. Searing pain, like plunging into the frigid sea, takes hold of my leg. I cry out as I look down at the creeping blackness seeping through the bloody gouges in my pants.
A quiettinkbreaks through the din of combat and I look up. Adrik is standing in the road, a grenade held high, pin pulled. He throws the weapon at the man crouched on the ground beside me. I gasp, turning my horse. With one leg out of the stirrup, I lose my balance at the sharp jerk of the steed. I fall, my lungs aching as the wind is knocked from my chest.
The grenade hits the ash-covered cobblestones beside the assassin who’s crouched, ready to pounce on me. The metal snaps open like a blossom, revealing radiant blue light that burns my eyes.
I’ve seen this light before…
