“No,” she whispered. “Daverik, no!”
She could not move, too stunned by the betrayal. Four Faceless Women leapt over the crowd, their gray cloaks billowing behind them. They sailed over the fence with ease, landing among the handful of guards at the gate. Three of the four formed a perimeter, cutting and slashing with their daggers. Shadows bled from their bodies, giving them an unearthly, terrifying image. The fourth slashed the lock with both blades. Black sparks fell to the ground. The women leapt away.
Just like that, the gates were open, and the furious crowd poured in like a wave. The house guards closed the gap as quickly as they could, their shields locking together and their swords stabbing, but they would soon be overrun. Zusa knew she must help them, but there was no way she could. The four Faceless had rushed the mansion, leaping at various windows and smashing through. She thought of them running the halls, searching, their daggers eager to take away the life of her love.
She thought of Daverik’s warning. He’d told her to stay away. He’d known this would happen.
“Damn you,” she said as she leapt from the tree. Arms wide, she sailed across the yard, propelled forward with strength born of magic. Karak’s magic, which she would turn against his blind, foolish servants. Alyssa had closed the window, but Zusa crossed her arms at the last moment and crashed right on through. Glass cut her skin, tore at her wrappings, but she ignored the pain. Rolling to a stop on one knee, she looked to Alyssa, saw the growing fear in her eyes.
“It’s not lost,” Zusa said, rising. “Not yet.”
The door opened, but it was not a Faceless, only Lord Gandrem in his polished armor. In his left hand he held a sharpened sword.
“Milady,” he said, tilting his head toward Melody Gemcroft. “Might I have the honor of standing at your side and protecting you with my life?”
“It’s only an honor if you keep her alive,” Zusa said. “By the window, now.”
“Window?”
“Do as she says, please,” Alyssa said. Zusa was glad to see that Nathaniel was back at her side. John glanced between them, still clearly confused, but he accepted the order of his host. He stood before the window Zusa had smashed, his weapon drawn, and overlooked the fight below.
Putting her back to them, Zusa closed the door to the room and leaned her side against it. Closing her eyes, she focused her senses, listened for the slightest sound that might reveal their presence. She heard screams from all about the mansion, servants and guards fighting, fleeing, dying. Getting closer.
From the other side, she heard a soft exhalation of air.
Zusa somersaulted as the door was kicked open. She was curling in midair when the Faceless Woman rushed in, searching. Melody screamed. Nathaniel cried out. Before the woman could attack, Zusa landed between her and Alyssa.
“Stay back!” she screamed at John, who had turned to help. “Stay at the window!”
The Faceless lowered her body, tensed for a lunge. Zusa recognized those hazel eyes, that small frame.
Ezra leapt at Melody, but it was a feint, and she curled back in. Zusa met her charge, fully expecting it. She knew Ezra’s hatred of her, knew that she would attack no one else while in her presence. Their daggers collided, engaged in a dance Zusa knew she would win like she had before. But if the previous defeat weighed on Ezra’s mind, it didn’t show, for she pressed her attack with an unexpected ferocity. Zusa parried twice, tried to knee her foe, but Ezra shifted aside. Zusa continued on, rolling until she hit the wall, then used it to kick off. They met again, their bodies contorted and twisted in ways only they, unarmored and limber, could do. Steel rang against steel. They collided together, elbowing, striking, each twisting to absorb the hits of the other as their daggers continued to dance, seeking an opening.
Zusa found it first. Her dagger slashed across Ezra’s thigh. As the injured woman tried to retreat, Zusa somersaulted, foot catching the underside of her chin. Ezra’s head snapped back, and she fell, rolling on instinct to avoid any follow-up attacks. When she came to her feet, blood spread across the wrappings of her face. She hesitated, and her eyes flicked once to the window. For Zusa, that was all she needed.
She was halfway there when another Faceless came leaping feet first through the shattered window. Lord Gandrem was unprepared for the attack, which caught him full in the chest. He stumbled back, but to his credit, he kept swinging, his long blade forcing the new attacker to keep her distance. Zusa didn’t slow in the slightest in her approach, and when close enough she leapt, slamming into the other woman with her shoulder. Together they tumbled out the window, falling.
Still holding the other tight, Zusa closed her eyes. They were falling at night, toward a ground littered with a hundred shadows cast by the few torches of the mob. She’d done this before, but never at such a great distance, never with another…
Demanding the power, whether it be from Karak or herself, she focused on a corner of the room she’d just leapt from, where the shadows were deepest. Shadows were but doorways to her, if she was strong enough, and instead of hitting the ground, she and her opponent fell right through. They reappeared in the room, falling from the corner. Zusa twisted so she landed on top, her daggers piercing the Faceless through the breast and throat. Abandoning the blades so she could continue moving without slowing, she swept the feet out from Ezra, who had turned on John following her departure.
John, as surprised as he looked, was still no fool. His sword stabbed down, but Ezra was too fast, spinning on her back. The stab missed, and with impressive strength, she pushed off in a backward somersault. Zusa kneed and kicked her, felt bones break, but still the woman made it past, crumpling at the door to the room.
And at that door appeared two more Faceless, shadows rolling off them like water.
Zusa looked to her daggers, still embedded in the corpse.
“You will not win tonight,” she said, shifting so she stood beside John, the two of them protecting Alyssa and her family.
“Karak has decreed you an enemy of the faith,” Ezra said, standing with the help of the other two. Her hazel eyes glared with a feverish intensity. “Your fate is already sealed. Without your faith, you are nothing.”
“Strange for a god of order to ally with thieves and rioters,” Alyssa said. “What have I done to earn your ire?”
They received no answer. The three Faceless fanned out, forcing the group tighter against the window. Zusa reached out a hand to John, her eyes never leaving her foes.
“Cut my palm,” she said.
John did so, though he clearly did not understand why. As the blood poured across her hand, Zusa clutched her cloak. Her body ached from the blows they’d exchanged, but despite it, she grinned.
“You think I am nothing?” she asked as her gray cloak turned the color of blood, it spreading like dye in a glass of water. “You think I must beg Karak for strength? Come, Faceless. Come, slaves. I will show you what power I have.”
In unison the three attacked, and Zusa met them head on. Clutching an edge of her cloak, she twisted and spun, weaving through their thrusts and slashes so that none could cut her deep. Her cloak itself billowed and curled, as if it were a sentient thing. Its edges hardened like steel whenever touched by the women’s daggers. Zusa kicked to her left, spun low, then slammed both her fists against Ezra’s chest. The others tried to trap her, but she vaulted high, landing by the corpse of the one she’d killed. Yanking free her daggers, she leapt fully into the offensive. Her cloak was just another weapon, and it cut into their skin like razor wire. The Faceless retreated, parried and dodged. Their blood covered the floor.
They all forgot John Gandrem, all but Zusa, who forced one of the Faceless into a retreat his way. His sword pierced her back, punched out the other side. The woman convulsed on the blade, and then died. Only two left, and they were in full retreat now, fleeing to the door. Zusa let them, for she felt her strength ebbing, and a headache growing deep in her forehead. With their absence, Zusa’s cloak returned to its dull gray color, and she limped over to Alyssa. A dozen shallow cuts bled all across her body.
“You’re safe,” Zusa said, and she smiled. Alyssa caught her when she leaned forward, and Zusa accepted the embrace.
The sound of combat continued unabated, despite the emptiness of the room. Looking out the window, Zusa saw the house guards completely overwhelmed, only a small force holding fast at the crowded entryway before the mansion door. The rest were dead or had retreated all the way into the building. Windows smashed in from all
