Page 77 of Song of the Heart Scale
The order dropped like a blade.
I stepped in front of Uncle Bai. “Shift.Now.”
He hesitated, his voice tight. “Damien—”
“I’ll hold them off. Go!”
My uncle’s eyes flickered with concern. “You don’t have your heart scale.”
“I’ve survived worse. Go!”
He cursed under his breath, and then the air around him shimmered.
The guards stumbled back, shouting as Uncle Bai exploded into his dragon form—a sleek beast with wings like folded storm clouds. The dock groaned beneath his weight just before he leapt into the air, wings beating the fog into spirals.
“Bring it down!” a guard screamed, aiming a crossbow.
But they were too late. Uncle Bai vanished into the night, leaving me alone to face their wrath.
The first guard lunged, his blade slicing through the mist toward me. I ducked, pivoted, and slammed the pommel of my dagger into his ribs. He wheezed and crumpled to the docks.
Two more flanked me. I parried one’s sword with a shriek of metal and barely sidestepped the second’s spear thrust. My dagger found flesh. Blood sprayed. He screamed and dropped.
Pain bloomed across my shoulder where a third guard’s blade grazed me. I spun, caught him with a boot to the knee, and drove my elbow into his jaw. He staggered.
I was bleeding, but at least I was still standing.
Unfortunately, not for long.
The fourth came from behind. I barely turned in time to catch his strike. The blow sent me reeling as the edge bit deep into my side.
I tasted iron.
I hit the ground, rolled, and came up crouching.
They were on me.
But I wasn’t done.
The pain sharpened my focus like a whetstone to steel. I clenched my jaw and shifted my stance, adjusting for the wound in my side. Warm blood seeped through my tunic, sticky and pulsing with each heartbeat, but I forced myself to ignore it. Pain was just another form of information that told me I was still alive. Still in the fight.
The three remaining guards circled like wolves, their blades drawn and hungry. One of them muttered something to the others—a strategy, most likely.
Good. Let them think. Let them plan. Personally, I thrived in chaos.
I surged forward before they were ready. My dagger flashed upward, aiming for the soft flesh under the chin of the nearest guard. He reacted just in time, twisting to deflect my strike, but my follow-up elbow crashed into his helmet with enough force to send him stumbling.
The second one rushed me, his sword held high. I dropped low and rolled beneath his swing, slashing across his thigh as I passed. He howled and collapsed to one knee. I grabbed the edge of a crate for leverage and launched myself upward, landing a solid kick to his chest that sent him sprawling.
The third guard was smarter. He waited and watched.
I faced him now, blood dripping down my side, my breath ragged but steady. He adjusted his grip on his curved saber and advanced, his eyes cold and glittering beneath his helm.
“You're outnumbered,” he said. “Surrender, and we'll make it quick.”
I grinned, feral and sharp. “That's a generous offer. Now, allow me to return the favor. Run now, and I'll forget your face.”
He lunged.
