Page 18 of Wicked Thieves
“So do I,” called a voice from behind the Watchmen, deep as smoke trailing from embers. Peering between the Watchmen as they whirled around to face whoever had interrupted them, she saw a masked man with a vicious look in his green eyes. Dressed in black leathers, his stance was imposing as he gripped two short swords in either hand. Already dripping in blood.
“Rebel filth!” Two of the Watchmen rushed toward him, their weapons raised. The rebel moved so fast, she was barely able to keep track as he dodged the first set of attacks. Parrying one of the Watchmen’s attacks before blocking the next with his swords. Sparks flew from the blades as the rebel shoved one the men away before pivoting, running his sword down the length of his attacker’s chest.
As if sensing the next attack, he spun as a flying arrow was shot his way before he ducked at the last second. With one quick spin, he drove his swords along the backs of one of the next Watchman’s thighs in quick succession. Blood sprayed and the man screamed in sheer agony. Before he could fall to the ground, the rebel hauled him to stand before him. Using him as a shield as the other Watchman sent another arrow flying toward him. Sinking into his comrade’s chest.
“Pathetic. So much training to learn how to kill Vedrans, and this is all you have to show for it.” With a scoff, the rebel let the dead Watchman crumple unceremoniously at his feet, barely casting him so much as a glance as he stepped over him.
“A-alright, you’ve proven your point. We’ll go now.” The man said even as he quickly drew another arrow before he gingerly aimed it at the rebel.
“Will you now?” the rebel rasped with a cruel laugh. “A little late to start begging for your life, don’t you think?Unfortunately, you’ve caught me on a bad day. I’ve gone far beyond granting mercy, I’m afraid.”
At his words, the Watchman released a growl of rage. The arrow flew, aiming true for the rebel’s chest before it was stopped by a single swing of his blade. There was a murderous glint in the masked man’s eyes, a tilt of his head as if he relished in the shock on the Watchman’s face.
The Watchman who had Anelize pressed to the wall hissed in annoyance just as two more guards rushed into the alley. Glancing between the bloodied mess before them and the man responsible for it. The rebel’s eyes shifted slightly, seemingly assessing his opponents as they came to surround him. Anelize was sure it wouldn’t be long before they managed to kill him soon enough. He was outnumbered by all accounts.
“You fucking rat, we’ll gut you for this. Do you know the cost of allying yourself with the likes of Vedrans is death?” the Watchman holding the knife to Anelize’s throat bellowed, as the two others stalked toward him, swords angled.
“Yes, I do,” the masked man said. Slowly, he sheathed his swords behind his back and raised his hands, both dripping in blood from the small cuts he’d somehow made along the center of his palms without her noticing. “But I have a job to do here, and you’re in my way.”
Suddenly the falling snow around them stopped in their descent, hanging like crystals of a chandelier in a noble’s home as they slowly spun and gathered around him, tilting horizontally as though they shared one mind. Forming pointed shards aiming straight for the Watchmen, appearing as arrows crafted of pure ice. Sending them flying with the flex of his fingers, the men released pained screams as the shards pierced straight through their armor, their bodies crumbling to the ground.
Dead within mere moments.
“D-don’t come any closer. I’ll kill her, I swear I will!” The remaining Watchman suddenly gripped her, placing her between him and the masked rebel as he slowly approached. Death personified coming to claim the last soul to complete his collection. The Watchman’s sword cut into her neck just a little more as he tensed. Making more blood pour down the front of her dress. The masked man narrowed his eyes but did not move, the snow resuming their fall around them as he dropped his hands back to his sides.
“Let her go, and I promise I’ll make it as quick and painless as I can,” the man drawled, almost sounding bored, as he spoke.
Anelize glared at him. Was now truly the time to test the mercy of a man who had been about to kill her mere seconds ago?
“You think I won’t do it?” the Watchman huffed.
The masked man placed his hands over his hips, shrugging. “Go ahead.”
If she survived this, she was going to kill the Vedran before her.
Then, eyes lit with intent as they met hers, he said, “Though, I can’t imagine your king is going to be fond of you killing anevit. Rare breeds, they are. In fact, she could so easily kill you herself right here and now. You wouldn’t even see it coming.”
Anelize blinked before slowly glancing down, to where the Watchman’s arm remained fastened across her chest. Taking in a deep breath, she concentrated as the Watchman jostled her with a laugh.
“This one here? She can barely hold her own against me. What could she possibly?—”
All it took was her closing her hand into a fist and then—the snap of bones. His words died on a scream in her ear so loud that she winced. When she glanced down, the Watchman’s fingers were angled in unnatural directions like the wilting petals of a flower. It was enough for him to stumble back, crying out in agony as he took in what she’d done to him. Anelize backed away, turning to face him when he released a scream of pure rage.
She didn’t see the fist coming toward her until it connected with the side of her cheek, sending her slamming into the wall. The world spun in circles as she sank to the ground. Through her haze, she could hardly make out anything clearly as the Watchman stumbled toward her, sword raised before blood suddenly splattered across the wall behind him. A large shard of ice lodged into his neck.
A gurgling sound followed as the Watchman fell to his knees, clutching his neck before he joined the others on the ground. Lifeless eyes staring back at her.
“Well, that was sloppy, I’ll admit,” the rebel said as his boots stepped into her view.
Her eyes struggling to remain open even as she fought the shadows closing in around her. Her body no longer seeming to listen to her as the throb in her head made everything shift out of focus. The masked man crouched before her, his hands hanging loosely between his thighs as his words echoed in a dissonance. The darkness finally coming to claim her.
“Is that really the best you can do?”
9
The sound of a woman singing softly made Anelize’s eyes flutter open, finding that she was laying on the cold hard ground in the parlor of a small home she did not recognize. A fire crackling in the hearth to her left made her flinch, glancing toward it where there was something bubbling within a black metal pot hung in the center of the hearth.
A chair before it rocked back and forth where a woman with long black hair was seated, her hands knitting thread as she sang, the words difficult to make out as Anelize lifted her head. Her body felt cold, heavy. Worn out like a rag used one too many times.
