Page 42 of Cursed By Gold

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The streets of the city are alive with the bustle of midday activity, but I move through them like a ghost. My heart races, the urgency of the situation pushing me forward. Fairy Godmother's warning still echoes in my ears: this mission is a trap. Gen and Lucius are in danger, and it’s up to me to save them.

Dressed in black, with a mask concealing my identity, I blend into the shadows despite the bright sun overhead. The clothing clings to me, allowing for maximum agility and stealth. I’ve trained for moments like this, but knowing my friends’ lives are on the line makes every step feel heavier.

As I approach the Merchant’s Guild meeting house, the imposing structure looms over me, its stone walls radiating a cold, indifferent strength. I scan the perimeter, noting the increased guard presence. I didn’t know that the king was looking for our guild specifically. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, but I push it aside. Focus, Scarlet. They need you.

I duck into an alley, taking a moment to assess my surroundings. The side entrance to the left seems less guarded. Timing is everything. I wait, heart pounding, until a cart rolls by, providing the cover I need. I slip through the gate and into the cool interior of the house, my footsteps silent on the stone floor.

Every sense on high alert, I move cautiously. Muffled voices reach my ears from a corridor to the right. I move towards them, my steps calculated and precise. The voices become clearer: Lucius’s smooth, confident tone and Gen’s more measured, focused one. Relief washes over me—they’re alive.

I peek around the corner and see them in a small room, surrounded by books and scrolls. Gen is hunched over a table, working on disarming an anti-espionage enchantment, while Lucius examines a map. They look tense, but unharmed. I step forward, ready to join them, when a magical alarm blares through the house.

My blood runs cold. How did I miss that?

Guards burst into the room, weapons drawn. Gen and Lucius look up, shock and fear flashing across their faces.

"So much for never being caught before, huh?" Lucius quips, trying to lighten the mood. Gen shoots him a glare, frustration on her face evident.

I spring into action, throwing a smoke bomb to create a diversion. The room fills with thick, choking smoke, giving me the cover I need. I dart forward, taking down the nearest guard with a swift kick to the head. Another one lunges at me, but I sidestep and sweep his legs out from under him.

"What are you doing here?" Gen exclaims, relief evident in her voice.

"Surprise," I say, managing a small smile despite the chaos. "We need to move. Now."

Lucius nods, already recovering from the shock. "Lead the way."

We make our way through the house, the smoke giving us precious seconds to evade the guards. My heart races as we navigate the maze-like corridors. Every step brings us closer to freedom—or so I hope.

We burst through a door and find ourselves in a large hall. Relief washes over me, but it's short-lived. Standing in the center is the King's private bodyguard—she seems so much more intimidating here in this room, glaring down at us, than she did this morning in the hall. My heart sinks; if she recognizes me,it's all over. I'll be expelled from the trials, lose any chance at the crown, and worst of all, the King will discover my identity.

Her eyes lock onto mine, and a smirk plays at her lips. "Stop! Give up now and surrender," she says, her voice cold and menacing.

I tighten my grip on my weapons, my mind racing. She is a formidable opponent, and with the soldiers backing her, our chances of escape are slim. But I can't let fear paralyze me. My comrades are counting on me.

"Go," I whisper to them. "I'll hold them off."

"Are you crazy?" one hisses. "We stick together."

There's no time to argue. The bodyguard steps forward, drawing her sword with a practiced grace. Her eyes lock onto mine, cold and calculating. I meet her gaze, my resolve hardening. "Fine. But stay close," I whisper to my comrades.

She lunges first, her blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. I barely sidestep in time, feeling the whoosh of the sword as it narrowly misses my shoulder. I counter with a quick jab of my dagger, but she parries effortlessly, her expression unreadable.

She presses the attack, a flurry of strikes aimed at my head and torso. I duck, weave, and block with my daggers, our weapons clashing in a symphony of steel. Each strike sends vibrations up my arm, but I grit my teeth and push through the pain. Sweat trickles down my brow, stinging my eyes, but I don't dare blink.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my comrades locked in combat with the soldiers. One of them disarms a guard with a swift twist of the wrist, while the other blocks a heavy blow, their faces set in grim determination. They fight with the skill and precision that only master thieves possess, but the sheer number of enemies threatens to overwhelm them.

The bodyguard feints left, then swings her sword in a deadly arc aimed at my neck. I drop to one knee, the blade whistling justabove my head. Seizing the moment, I roll forward and come up behind her, slashing at her exposed side with my dagger. She spins, her sword deflecting mine at the last second, and we are once again locked in a deadly dance.

A soldier lunges at me from the side, and I kick him away, my focus never wavering from the bodyguard. Her eyes narrow, and she changes her stance, her movements becoming even more aggressive. She knows she has the advantage in numbers, and she's trying to wear me down.

My muscles burn with exertion, and my breath comes in ragged gasps. The bodyguard's relentless assault leaves me no room to think, only react. I block a downward strike with both daggers, our blades locked together, and I see the flicker of a smirk on her lips. She thinks she's won.

But then I hear a shout from one of my comrades. "Look, the window!"

Hope surges through me. I break away from the bodyguard, parrying a final strike that leaves her momentarily off-balance. "Cover me!" I yell, sprinting towards the large stained-glass window at the far end of the hall.

My comrades fight with renewed vigor, forming a defensive line to hold off the soldiers. The bodyguard recovers quickly and gives chase, her sword flashing as she cuts down anyone in her path. My heart pounds in my chest, each step bringing me closer to the window and our only chance of escape.

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