Page 143 of Prince of the Undying

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, even though it was a lie.

We ran to the door and ducked into a small, bare room carved from stone. Kerosene lamplight flickered in the empty eyes of the two dead men waiting for us there.

Wendel clenched my hand so hard, I almost didn’t realize he was shaking. Badly.

“You’re hurting me,” I whispered.

He released me. “Sorry.”

“Where are we?”

“The western wing of the fortress.” He jerked his chin toward a door on their right. “We head through that door, go down a corridor, and hit the bottom of the tower itself. Six flights of stairs to the top.”

“How many assassins?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Dozens?”

“Great.” I stepped forward. “Let’s find out.”

He stopped me with a hand on my chest. “Allow me.” When he snapped his fingers, the dead men flanked the door. “Locked?”

“Yes,” one of the dead men said, his hollow voice startling me.

“Do you have the key?” Wendel asked.

“Yes.”

“Then unlock it. Kill anyone you find.” He glanced at me. “And keep her safe.”

Undead bodyguards? That was unsettling.

The dead man who had spoken fumbled with a key, unlocked the door, and marched through with his companion.

“Wait.” Wendel stopped me from following. A minute later, he flinched, his eyes distant. “My minions have company.”

“How…?”

“I can feel it. Better help them out before they get beheaded.”

He disappeared into the shadows. When I drew my sword, flames blazed down Chun Yi. I stepped through the doorway and into a fight. An assassin hacked at the neck of a dead man, his teeth bared, while the other dead man lunged with a clumsy sword blow. The assassin blocked him with his shield.

I thrust my sword into the assassin’s chest.

He staggered, his eyes wide with shock, and I wrenched my blade free. When I flicked my wrist, blood splattered on the wall. The assassin collapsed on the stones. Crimson pooled beneath his body as he choked, his dying breath a gurgling one. My sword burned, flames whispering of its thirst.

“Wendel?” I frowned. “This feels too easy. Like it’s a trap.”

“I don’t care.”

He stepped from the shadows. He crouched by the assassin, touched his wrist, and raised him from the dead. We ran down the corridor and reached the bottom of a spiral staircase. Footsteps pounded behind us.

“Reinforcements,” Wendel said.

His undead men raised their scimitars and shambled down the corridor.

Wendel didn’t wait for the fight. He hit the stairs running. I lowered my head and lunged after him. The clash of steel on steel echoed off the stone behind them. Hopefully his minions would buy us enough time.

---