Page 56 of Chained to the Champion
I didn't see Yelena or Eli and didn't ask. I wasn't going to throw a wrench in the escape plan and invite hesitation.
“She's elbows-deep washing shit off plates,” Asif said.
For a heartbeat, I just listened, far off, glass shattering, someone screaming not in fear but in wild, open-throated joy at the feast. Good. The more smoke and noise to cover us the better.
“We get her, and we go.”
If Kinsley or Asif had a doubt, they didn't let it show. And regrets? Those weren't my problem.
Nat was at the cistern, hands scrubbed red and trembling around a bowl, scouring with a focus only pain could teach. Her arms looked like someone had tried to slice discipline into her skin. When our eyes met, hope and dread piled on top of each other behind her eyes.
“Come on,” I said, voice just above a whisper. “It’s time.”
She set the bowl down, careful not to make a noise and nodded.
I gave her, Kinsley, and Asif my most confident nod. “Stay close. Fast and low. We don’t look back.”
I didn't let myself think about the people we were leaving behind. I could save who was in front of me—or at least I could try. If we got back to Scalvaris—whenwe got back—I'd plead with Darrokar on my life to go back for the rest, for Larissa. But we were all screwed if no one got out.
We vanished behind an old door that seemed half forgotten and led to a stinking hallway with wet floors and disgusting bugs skittering along the walls. I wasn't about to think about what was causing the stink, not when freedom lay at the end of the hall.
Nat nearly fell over, but Kinsley snapped a hand out, teeth bared in a silent snarl, keeping her upright. Claws were in my lungs, sulfur on my tongue, every scrape of sound a potential death warrant.
At last, the hallway spat us out into fresh air, if you called a rancid alley “air.”
I stopped and counted. I wasn't letting anyone fall behind just yet.
No alarms. No shouts. My hand locked white on my knife as I drew in slow breaths. “Come on, we need to get across the city.”
Then the world snapped.
A muffled yell. Heavy, booted steps biting through mud. Then a dirty fan of torchlight slashing the dark, four Ignarath grunts boiling up from behind a barricade of splintered barrels.
“Escape!” The word landed like a mallet to the gut.
“Run!” My hiss shredded my throat. I was already gone.
Nat shot forward, Kinsley on her heels, arms pumping. Asif’s hesitation cost him; hands like steel cable looped around his chest, yanking him back, his legs pinwheeling uselessly.
Kinsley pivoted with murder in her eyes, blade slashing fast and ugly. I lunged, but a guard’s tail swept my shins. I ate dirt and something worse and came up spitting, jamming my knife upward into Ignarath flesh, hot, briny blood sprayed, guard howled.
A second’s reprieve. Not enough.
Chaos swarmed. There was Nat, yanked back by her hair, shriek strangled to a whimper. Kinsley swearing, blade flashing, trying to carve through hides too thick for a kitchen knife. Asif vanished into a tangle of claws and fury, his shout snuffed like a candle.
I fought, bit, clawed, punched, headbutted until pain blurred into white static. Kinsley drove her heel into a guard’s groin, bought herself a heartbeat before more claws crashed in, too many, too strong, all scales and bulk, every one twice my size.
“Go! Vega, just go!” Kinsley’s scream was pure violence.
No!
We still had a way out, we had to. Nat was sobbing, Kinsley fighting like a monster. I launched at the next guard, barely thinking, knife jabbing, teeth bared, pure animal. An armored forearm erased my vision. A backhand snapped through my skull, bright light and fireworks inside my head.
Blindly, I swung, found something between soft and bone. Another grabbed my collar, hurling me sideways, until I heard something pop. Kinsley materialized beside me, slashing wild, blood speckling her fists.
“Get off her!” Her voice was breaking.
They replied with a roar, far past words, the thrill of the hunt running riot in their eyes.
