“Filthy, lying bitch!” he spat.
This wasn’t a straight-up fight. Neither one of us could use magic. Yeah, he was bigger than me, but those chains were just going to keep him from frying me and my throat like he had that Khrynsani in the mirror room. He could choke me the old-fashioned way just fine.
Carnades Silvanus had been directly or indirectly responsible for every attack and near fatality that either myself or the people I loved had endured since this whole crapfest started. Now Tam had almost died and worse to protect all of us—including Carnades.
I’d kept my temper and fists to myself.
No more.
I wanted to scream every murderous thought I’d ever had about Carnades Silvanus. But I didn’t need words; my knees and fists and feet did it all for me. My torso was pinned under him, but my legs weren’t. I couldn’t ram my knee into his nuts, but all other options were wide open. I twisted hard toward Carnades, and pounded my right knee up into the base of his ribs. Once. Twice. Hard and harder. It felt good.
Carnades grunted with each blow, and his weight shifted off me for a fraction of a second. It was an opening, and I took it. I snarled and twisted again, landing a left hook to the side of Carnades’s head. I was aiming for his temple, but hit closer to his eye. I wasn’t picky. Any punch that landed on Carnades felt good.
A leather-armored forearm wrapped around Carnades’s throat in a choke hold, jerking the elf mage off of me in one smooth move.
Piaras.
Oddly, Carnades wasn’t trying to get his hands up high enough to dislodge Piaras’s arm, and I caught a quick glimpse as to why.
He had a knife.
One of mine that had been tucked into my belt.
Piaras saw and acted. He snapped Carnades’s wrist up and away from his body. The mage screamed. Piaras didn’t break Carnades’s wrist; that was up to Carnades. He could either drop the knife or kiss his wrist good-bye. I could have kicked that knife out of Carnades’s hand, but Piaras had the situation well in hand. He had nearly as much reason to hate Carnades as I did, and I wasn’t going to deny him some much-earned payback. The pressure of Piaras’s arm locked around Carnades’s throat was turning the elf mage’s face a lovely shade of blue.
Carnades cut his losses and dropped the knife. Piaras dropped Carnades—on his face. His boot lodged firmly in the elf mage’s back would keep him from getting any more bright ideas.
The entire fight happened too fast for anyone to jump in, though everyone knew I’d wanted that fight for a long time and that I didn’t want any help.
Nath started toward me. I held out a hand, stopping him. “I’m fine, take care of Tam.”
Nath glanced at Carnades’s face. The elf mage had the beginnings of a beauty of a black eye.
“Nice,” he said.
I panted and gave him a winded smile. “I take pride and joy in my work.”
Mychael was on his feet, supporting a mostly conscious and all intact Tam. Mychael gave Piaras a quick nod of approval. Piaras tried not to smile. That wouldn’t have been Guardianly.
Carnades spit out a mouthful of dirt, and if looks could have killed, we all would’ve dropped dead.
“Nath, where we’re going, is there a place secure enough for our prisoner?” Mychael asked.
I didn’t miss Carnades’s change in status, and neither did anyone else.
Nath smiled wide enough to show his fangs. “Oh, yeah.”
It had to be what everyone was thinking, but no one was saying. We didn’t have time to dawdle for questions.
Tam’s anti-magic not only destroyed the Magh’Sceadu; according to Jash, it also wiped our trail clean. Unfortunately, the sudden absence of four Magh’Sceadu wouldn’t go unnoticed.
That would tell whoever was monitoring that particular Magh’Sceadu pack that the hunters had become the prey. That would most definitely get the Khrynsani’s attention. Not to mention the flare of magic that had gone up courtesy of Mychael. None of it could have been avoided. Though at least for the moment, there was no sign of pursuit.
Nath set a fast pace and we more than kept up. With Tam still trying to literally get his legs back underneath him, and Mychael and Jash all but carrying him, Imala took it on herself to keep Carnades motivated to keep moving. By the time we took our second and all-too-brief break, Tam was walking on his own and hadn’t wanted to stop, but Mychael insisted. If he hadn’t, I would have. Tam was leaning against the tunnel wall, the stone at his back barely keeping him upright. His head was back and he was panting.
Imala started toward him, but Tam waved her away.
“I’m fine,” he managed.
“Bullshit.”
“Don’t… touch.”
His skin would still be crawling from the spell’s contact; the last thing he wanted was anyone touching him, especially anyone he cared about.
“If you fall flat on your face, may I touch you then?” Imala’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
Tam gave her a weary smile. “Please do.”
“At least it’s not wet,” I noted. “And relatively rat free.”
“This section isn’t used much anymore,” Nath replied. “The walls aren’t in the best shape.”
“Yeah, I’ve been trying to ignore that.”
“A new system has been built either parallel or above these. The rats don’t have much to eat down here, so they stick to the new system.”
“So do the Khrynsani,” Jash added.
“Vermin with vermin,” Prince Chigaru muttered. “How appropriate.”
The tunnel sloped gradually upward. I saw light up ahead, streaming down through a barred grate on the street above. Nath held up his hand. We stopped.
Tam’s brother crept forward in complete silence. There was street debris hanging down from the opening. We must have been just beneath street level.
Nath turned and gestured to Tam, who moved soundlessly to stand beside his brother. He stood there looking out; Nath was watching him. A slow smile creased Tam’s lips, though it was sad and bitter. Never taking his eyes from his brother’s face, Nath gestured the rest of us forward. I had to stand on tiptoe, but I saw what Tam was seeing.
It was a street, residential, from the look of it, palatial from the grandeur of the houses along it. But it was one house in particular that had Tam’s attention. Talon came quietly to stand beside me. He didn’t need to stand on tiptoe.
In Mermeia, the only things comparable were palazzos along the Grand Duke’s Canal. I knew that being the goblin queen’s chief mage would have its perks, but dang.
Tam’s house was four stories, constructed of pale stone and marble that still gleamed even after who knew how much neglect. An ornate black wrought-iron fence surrounded the property, with a gate opening onto a circular gravel carriage drive and front garden. Overgrown now, it still showed signs of having been elegant once.
“It’s beautiful, Tam,” I said quietly.
A ghost of a smile played across Tam’s lips. “Yes, it is.”
What wasn’t so beautiful was the boarded-up windows, broken shutters, and a sign nailed to the front doors that I couldn’t quite make out.
“What does it say?” I asked.
