Page 58 of Veiled Fate
At that moment, everything fell apart.
“They’re in the sewers!” I shouted as grates all around us were tossed back, and Lycaonus’ troops started climbing the ladders.
At my raised voice, everyone went to plan B.
We ran for it. With most of the prisoners, including Clive, and around twelve other rebels, I darted into the building where I had waited to spring the trap and out the rear door.
About two blocks later, we hurried around a corner only to run into a detachment of guards responding to the initial fracas we’d caused. Two prisoners and one of the Lycaon rebels were down before anyone knew what was happening.
The rest of us crashed into the eight-man squad and bowled them over with nothing more than cuts and a bruise to show for it, liberating several swords in the process. We didn’t slow, however, as we headed for our exit from the city, one of the numerous secret entrances Gare knew about.
We were nearing the house that contained the exit when fresh guards poured into the street, cutting our formation in two. I hauled Clive to the side to avoid being cut down by a thrusting spear. We dodged the attack, but he shouted in pain, falling to the ground.
Nobody slowed to help. The one rule of plan B was that nobody slowed. If you fell behind, you were left. It was the only way any of us would survive, given how badly we were outnumbered. Of course, I hadn’t ever expected tousethat option. We had purposefully stayed out of the sewers, not using them to hopefully ensure they would remain unguarded for just that purpose.
None of us had thought Lycaonus would use them to move his troops around. Now, we knew better.
“Go!” I shouted as the rest of our group moved around the soldiers, who had focused on Clive and me. “Get out of here.”
“I’m sorry,” Clive said. “This is my fault.”
“It’s fine,” I said as the last of the rebels disappeared into the house. “We’ll be okay.”
“How do you figure?” he muttered, glancing at the cluster of guards.
“You’ll see,” I told him, standing straight, walking toward the guards, hands outstretched to either side.
The guards readied their weapons, looking at me warily, unsure of what I was doing.
I felt inside myself, searching for that wellspring of power, of Fate. I reached for it, begging her to help me now as she had in the past. With a scream, I flung my hands at the guards, picturing the bolts of green lightning that would hit them, impaling them and frying them in their armor so that we could escape.
Nothing happened. I stood there shrieking with my hands pointed at the guards in the middle of the street. And that was it.
One of the guards darted in, slashing his sword at my side. I spun out of the way, turning a blow that would have sliced me in half into an ugly gash from ribs to thigh. It still hurt like hell, and I fell to the ground as my vision exploded with stars.
“Jada!” Clive shouted, hobbling forward.
But he was an hour late and a mile short. The blow came for my neck, and that time the guard wouldn’t miss. I closed my eyes, hoping it would be quick.
CLANG!
“Go!” a familiar voice shouted from above me.
I looked up to see Tave, sword in his right hand, deflecting the attack from the guard that would have killed me. His foot came up, and he kicked the soldier in the chest, crumpling the armor and sending him back into his friends.
“Get out of here. Now!” Tave bellowed. “Don’t let the rebellion die!”
Then he charged the guards.
“Tave!” I screamed.
Clive was at my side, hauling me to my feet as the one-armed shifter cleared us a path.
With his life.
“Don’t waste it,” Clive said, forcing me into motion toward the house and our escape route. “He chose to give you a chance. Use it, Jada. Use it.”
Behind us, Tave cut down another guard and wounded a third, but the others were already recovering. I wanted to watch, to bear witness to his brave sacrifice, but delaying any longer would render that action worthless andthatI would not do.
