Page 65 of Broken Fate
Praksis smacked Flak on the back of the head for Andi.
“There was no turning back a long time ago,” I told them. “As I said before. I’m all in. Now, the rest of you know it.”
Andi eyed me with something like regret while Flak smiled wide in approval at my defiance.
I wanted to vomit, but I stood tall. It wasn’t the time for weakness. That could come later. After I had made sure everyone was safe.
At that moment, Kiel came charging back around the corner, a limp body slung over his shoulder, and Clive was right behind him.
“Go!” he shouted, not slowing down.
The clang of armor followed them around the corner. More guards were coming.
As one, we raced for the grate and the sewers.
Chapter Thirty-One
We came around the corner only to nearly run into another set of guards trying to sneak up on us.
Clive roared and slammed into them, his arms out wide as he cleared a path with brute force, knocking guards back and aside. The rest of us followed him in a line, knocking back anyone who tried to recover.
We reached the grate, which Clive picked up and hurled at the closet guards with all his might. The heavy cast iron sewer cover crushed armor and chest alike, buying us precious seconds to drop through the hole while the palace guards recovered.
“Go, go, go!” Flak shouted, holding the rear guard as I slid across the floor and into the sewers, following the splashing footsteps of the rest of the team.
It was no time to give a shit about shit. If we slowed, we died. The equation was that simple. Swords clanged behind me, followed by a grunt of pain. I glanced back to see Flak drop. He landed heavily on one knee, one of his swords missing. He wobbled but recovered just in time to thrust his sword up into the gut of the first guard to descend.
Then he was drowned under a pile of silvery armor.
“Fuck!” I shouted. “Flak’s down!”
“Keep going,” Kiel ordered, his steady bass cutting through the panicked, harsh breathing that filled my ears as we ran.
I almost said something about Flak knowing how to get back to the base but didn’t. The blades of the guards who felled him had dripped with blood. There was no surviving that.
We ran through the sewers, the only thing keeping us ahead of the guards being our lead and their heavier, clumsier armor. On the streets above us, however, the alarm would be raised. Guards across the city would be looking for us. Trying to cut us off. It was a matter of odds, nothing more.
Either we made it to the ship, or we didn’t.
“Your captain better be ready,” Kiel said to Praksis.
“He will be,” the slender, weather-beaten shifter replied. “He’s a worrywart but loyal. He and his men will have our backs.”
“I hope so,” I put in, looking over my shoulder. Every so often, I glimpsed the guards coming around a corner. “Because I think we’re going to need them.”
Kiel grunted his agreement, carrying the body over his shoulder as he ran like it was nothing.
“Is he … alive?” I got out between breaths.
“Yes.” It was the only answer I got.
We followed the sewers all the way to the harbor before darting through a street-level grate. The city sloped down toward the water, which meant the roads nearest the harbor were often subject to flooding in the rainy months. They were, therefore, inevitably the most rundown as well. That was something we intended to use to our advantage.
Slamming the grate closed behind us, I wrapped a chain tightly around the bars, looping it around itself and through it. Anything to slow the guards down.
One came around the corner and skidded to a stop no more than three feet away. We locked eyes.
I jumped back just as his sword came thrusting through the open bars, seeking my stomach.
