hall, his mind racing.

“We can’t hold them off forever,” Aurelia said, coming up behind him. Aubrienna clutched her mother’s hand, her eyes wide with fear at the sudden commotion.

“Sure we can,” Harruq said. “But we don’t need to. There’s a scepter back in our room. If I can get to it, we can summon a whole army of angels to protect us.”

“What about Susan?”

Harruq looked back into the room. He couldn’t get the scepter and Susan, at least not both at the same time. Aurelia could go, but that left the children with only four guards to hold off Kevin’s men until one of them returned.

“There’s nothing we can do,” he said. “We’ll just have to hope she lives. Stay here. I don’t care if they brought a thousand men. You’re strong enough to stop them.”

He kissed her, then bent down to wrap Aubrienna in a hug.

“You stay safe,” he said to her, kissing her cheek. Standing, he drew his swords and went over the layout of the castle in his mind. No matter which way he went, he’d need to go down the stairs to the lower floor. Presumably the floor was already lost, the guards within overrun. If only he could get down there without need of the stairs, bypassing the bulk of the forces…

He looked to Aurelia.

“The outside of the castle’s been blocked,” he said. “But not inside, right?”

His wife gave him a confused look, then understood.

“I won’t be able to get you back up,” she said.

“Leave that part to me.”

Aurelia went to nearest door, pushing it open. Inside were simple beds, clean and unused for some time. Gathering her energy, Aurelia unleashed it in a focused point, blasting a hole in the stone floor just large enough for Harruq to hop through. Peering down, he found another room, this one far fancier, reserved for visiting lords and ladies. Beside the bed lay a heavy gentlemen, blood pooling around his throat. Harruq shook his head, then turned back to his wife.

“Love you,” he said before hopping down. He landed atop the bed, rolled off, and then drew his swords.

“Should have put my armor on after all,” he muttered as he slid to the door, which was slightly ajar. Glancing out, he saw soldiers rushing down the hall, their tabards bearing the Maryll family crest. All wore heavy chain mail for protection. Harruq winced again.

“Really, really should have put on my armor.”

When he decided the hall was as empty as it would get, he burst out, then spun in an attempt to orientate himself. To his left were over fifty men filtering into the stairwell leading up. On his right were only a few, and they froze at his sudden appearance. Harruq barreled down the hall toward them, relying on surprise to take them out quickly. The first tried to stab him but woefully underestimated Harruq’s speed. Without slowing, Harruq slashed his throat and sidestepped his collapsing body, swatting aside the second’s hesitant defense before shoving his swords into the man’s stomach. The chainmail resisted, but the magic in Harruq’s swords was strong, and they pushed through to pierce flesh.

With a roar, Harruq yanked them out, kicked away the body, and slammed both blades down against the paltry attempt to block by a third soldier. The steel shattered, Harruq’s ancient blades flaring red as they continued on, chopping through either side of the man’s shoulders to crush in his collarbones. Using the swords to maneuver the corpse, he flung it behind him, into the path of the soldiers breaking off from the stairwell.

The way was clear, and he ran like mad toward his room. From all sides he heard scattered combat, and he tried not to think on how many died. Would Kevin execute the servants, too? The cooks, the cleaners, the errand boys, all to hide his crime? He prayed not, but the screams he heard said otherwise.

A glance behind him showed at least fifteen men in chase. The breath in his lungs felt like fire, and again Harruq chastised himself for growing so lazy. Orcish heritage might have granted him extra muscles and stamina most men could only dream of, but it meant little when he spent two thirds his day in a chair, chugging down wine to keep himself from going out of his mind. The stone walls were a blur as he ran. He turned a corner, slamming into a group of four soldiers.

“Coming through,” Harruq muttered, his momentum continuing through the jumble of arms and legs. Two the men managed to stay on their feet, and they swung weakly at him. Easily dodging their surprised flailing, Harruq hamstrung one, shifted a step to his right, and stabbed Salvation straight through the man’s throat. He left them there, racing along before the rest of those chasing him could catch up.

His room was just up ahead. He stared at the door with his eyes wide. Getting back to Aurelia might be impossible now, but if he could barricade himself in his room and summon the angels, they could turn the tide, saving them from Kevin’s madness. All he needed was the scepter in his closet. Without slowing, he blasted through the door with his shoulder, catching it with his left hand upon entering so he could immediately fling it shut behind him.

Jamming in the lock, he had to hope it held as he dashed for the closet. Pulling out the scepter, he clutched to it like the desperate prayer it was. At the window to their room he pointed the crystal outward and spoke the command word. Light built up around it, forming into a pillar. When it shot out, that pillar halted mere feet beyond the window. Harruq blinked at it, remembered the protection Aurelia had said had been cast around the castle.

“Well,” he said, the door shaking behind him as something heavy slammed into it. “That’s not good.”

Shrugging his shoulders, he spoke the command word again, and then with all his strength he hurled the scepter out the window. It curled end over end through the air, and once beyond the barrier, the pillar of light whipped around as if held by a wild, drunk angel. Preparing his swords, he turned to the door and braced himself to fight whoever might break through.

The lock shattered, despite no pressure exerted on the door at the time. Before Harruq could even realize what was going on, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. Letting out a cry, he stumbled to his knees as lightning surged through his insides, dissipating into the wall behind him. The force of the attack knocked him backward, and he cracked his head against the stone wall. Vision swimming, he stared as two men with masks leisurely stepped into his room.

“Not…” Harruq said as the men raised their hands, unleashing more of their power. “Not…fair…”

Darkness came for him, and all he could think was that surely things were supposed to have gone differently.

Aurelia watched until Harruq was gone from sight, then returned to the makeshift classroom. Inside were the four soldiers, waiting with drawn swords and doing their best to hide their anxiety.

“Get away from the door,” Aurelia said to them. They obeyed, shuffling awkwardly to the far side. Once sure the two children were safely behind her, she put her hands together, focusing a spell.

“Now open it,” she said.

They did. Ice stretched from her fingers, growing, spreading out from one side of the doorway to the other, sealing them in with a wall of ice.

“That should slow them for a while,” she said.

“More than that,” said one of the soldiers. “They’d need a ram to break through ice that thick.”

She smiled at him, a young man with barely any stubble on his face.

“Perhaps,” she said. “I hope you’re right, but I fear Kevin prepared for my tricks.”

From the outside they heard muffled noises, undecipherable arguments and shouting. Through the blue of the ice Aurelia could make out dark shapes of men on the other side. Telling herself to remain calm, she took Aubrienna’s hand and led her and Gregory to a corner. She overturned two desks and set them inside.

“Stay in here,” she said, kissing both.

“Are they bad men?” Aubrienna asked her.

“Yes, very bad men.”

“Will you stop the bad men?”

She ran a hand through her daughter’s beautiful brown hair.

“You bet mommy will,” she said.

She touched the stone bricks that made up the floor, and they clung to her like honey. Lifting it upward, she

Вы читаете The Prison of Angels
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