Markus smiled behind the point of his sword. 'You seem a bit stiff, friend. Not as nimble as you were on the pier, or upstairs for that matter. So the bolt found its mark. It stings, eh?'
'Come a little closer and find out.'
Markus clicked his tongue. Caim beat their rush by a fraction of a heartbeat. He jumped just before the Brothers advanced. Pain ripped through his side, but he shoved it to the back of his mind as he rolled on his left shoulder and came up inside the guard of his first target. The clammy soldier fell to the floor, bleeding from a gouge in his belly and a slash across the face.
There was nothing fancy in Calm's technique. He shifted and lunged, ducked and riposted. His left-hand knife cut a jagged furrow along the tall Brother's arm while the right-hand blade beat aside a sword thrust and drove its author back. The tall soldier whipped his sword up into a guard position, but Caim sunk underneath and drove both points into the man's upper thigh where the artery pulsed. The Brother shouted and dropped to the floor.
As Caim moved to engage the others, a vicious spasm pulsed in his chest like his heart was trying to burst out of his rib cage. Steel flashed all around him in the lamplight. He retreated under a slashing sword stroke and slid away from a swipe at his head, but hampered by his wound he couldn't move fast enough. A boot stomped on his knee and almost spilled him to the floor. A sword gashed the sleeve of his shirt. In desperation, he launched a whirlwind of stop-thrusts to keep the Sacred Brothers at bay.
A bulky missile soared over his shoulder, accompanied by a dainty grunt. The oil lamp shattered on the floor behind the Brothers, and a wall of burning oil erupted at their backs. By a stroke of good fortune, Markus was stranded on the far side of the inferno.
Caim saw his chance. He darted in close, switching to the offensive. The suete knives cut through gabardine and flesh. Blood spattered the flagstones. A Sacred Brother screamed as his sword fell to the floor, his hand still attached to the hilt.
Caim was pressing the last two Brothers when another blade flashed at him from the darkness. He pivoted as Markus, his boots wreathed in flame, launched a barrage of furious attacks. Caim evaded the wild swings, but the action forced him back a step. He made two swipes with his knives to gain more maneuvering room, but the prefect's arrival had tipped the scales. Caim couldn't defend both himself and Josey. He retreated with a sinking feeling in his gut. He had lost the advantage. In a moment they would regroup and overwhelm him.
He risked a glance over his shoulder at Josey, backed against the wall with the ceremonial pike clutched across her chest. They were both going to die in this stinking cellar. The flash of her warm green eyes inflamed him. A tingle in his chest was the only warning before the chamber plunged into absolute night.
Icy sweat broke out all over Calm's body as he fell back against the stone wall. Even knowing what was happening didn't prevent the tendrils of fear from sliding through his veins. The shadows had come.
But he hadn't called them.
There was no mistaking the screams that echoed through the chamber. He caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye, just for an instant, but it was enough to melt his insides. Sleek and powerful, it prowled the darkness, and the fall of its massive paws made no sound on the chamber floor. Calm's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't move; his muscles had turned to jelly.
Josey's cry shook him from the stupor. He felt along the wall until he found her, huddled against a bookcase. She shuddered at his touch and tried to slap him away.
'It's me!' he hissed in her ear. 'We have to get out of here.'
She buried her face against his shoulder. Careful of his aching side, he cradled her as tenderly as he could. His eyes were adjusting to the gloom. The oil fire was burning down. Flashes of metal near the center of the room showed him where the surviving Brothers were making their stand. There was no sign of the shadow beast, but Caim could feel its presence like a great, black wave rolling through a midnight sea. He only hoped the creature would focus on the soldiers, leave him and Josey alone.
With an arm around her shoulders, Caim steered Josey along the periphery of the chamber. He kept the knife in his free hand ready, but the soldiers were focused on the greater threat. A gurgling squeal rose beyond the range of human vocals.
Josey gasped as they approached the burning pool. The heat of the fire was intense enough to warm him through tunic and cloak.
'Trust me.' He picked her up. Her arms encircled his neck.
Caim carried her along a narrow path between the fire and the wall. The heat climbed up his boots. They were almost through when a shape appeared before them in the gloom to cut off their escape. For a moment, Caim feared the shadow beast had turned on them. Then, Markus's face emerged from the shadows. His sword rose into the smoky air.
Caim lowered his shoulder and charged ahead. He slammed into Markus. The momentum of the blow sent Markus hurtling into the greedy flames. Spurred by the prefect's screams, Caim raced up the stairs as if the lords of hell were on his heels. But halfway up the uneven steps, the pain in his side forced him to put Josey down. They crawled through the secret door, and Caim slammed it shut behind them. The Brothers' screams died away to ominous silence below.
As he staggered out of the niche, Josey pulled him close in a fierce embrace. Her soft lips mashed against his so hard he feared she might bruise herself. In the midst of this passionate display, he collapsed in her arms.
Somehow she half carried him down the dusty hallway. The rest of the mansion was empty, which was good, as he was in no condition to fight. The sickness was worse than ever before. He ached over every inch of his body. While he waited for the effects to leach out of his system, disturbing thoughts caromed through his head. The truth about Josey's identity hadn't struck him yet, not fully, but he could already feel his attitude changing toward her. He stood a little straighter beside her, then scowled when he noticed this and deliberately slouched.
They left the mansion by the back door and crossed the yard. Every step jarred Calm's side. Scaling the wall was a brutal experience, but he survived it. As they stole away, a jarring crash from the mouth of an alleyway caused him to raise his knives, until a small, furry shape darted away. He squeezed his fingers around the hilts. He was getting jumpy. It was Josey's fault. He had been a successful, self-possessed professional before he met her. Now, he was a mess.
Perhaps guessing his mood, Josey asked, 'What do we do now?'
The foggy street stretched before them into the gloom. 'Back to Low Town.'
'The brothel again?'
The note of indignation in her voice made him smile despite the fierce throbbing in his side. Already acting the part of a princess.
'Not yet. I want to stop by my place first and pick up some things, a change of clothes.'
'Wait.' She stopped, which forced him to halt as well or leave her behind, something he wasn't willing to do.
'I need your help.' She straightened her shoulders and faced him. 'I want you to help me track down those responsible for the death of my father… and my real family. I need you to help me punish them.'
Determination burned in her gaze. So much like his own, it gave him pause.
'You mean kill them.'
'I mean do whatever it takes. Whoever is behind this has taken everything from me. My father. My home. My whole life. I want them dead. Help me, and all I have is yours.'
He forced a laugh, although it came out as more of a croak. 'You're wearing borrowed clothes under a borrowed jacket. Any wealth your father possessed has probably been seized by the city. You're poorer than me.'
'What do you want?'
He stepped closer. A look of uncertainty crept into her highborn features, but she held her ground. His mouth remembered the taste of her kiss. 'How about a full pardon?'
Her smile returned. 'We can negotiate that.'
'It's negotiable?'
She took his arm as he steered her toward Low Town. 'Everything's negotiable, Caim. But you know what this means, right?'
'What?' he asked, suddenly wary.
'It means you're fighting for a cause.'
Caim didn't reply, but let those words drift inside his skull for a while. Neither of them spoke on the long walk
