Page 90 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
Several males sneered—their eyes catching her empire-branded weapons—with giant, thick cutlasses and broadswords gripped in their fists. The females hung back, warily eyeing her, lances shakily clasped to their chests towering above them. She urged them with her eyes torun. They didn’t need to see this.
Their faces were gaunt, their eyes haunted. They didn’t belong here. They didn’t deserve to die.What are you doing?Something squeaked, breaking through the bloodied barrier wrapped around her mind. Yet, the males thrived on the violence and extremities of the Silent Tundra. Kora smiled at the small circle of enemies trapping her, inching closer as she settled back into the symphony of death.
“We’ve been looking for ye,” one spoke. Most of their teeth were missing.
“Isn’t this a nice welcoming party.” Kora wiped the blood from her face and flicked it off her hands. A snarl rippled through the circle.
The cries of battle and the clashes of metal drowned out as the toothless male lunged, reaching to grab her by the neck. She pivoted, twisting away, her arms twirling like a dancer. A female screamed as his body collapsed to the ground, his neck and torso sliced so deeply his blood gushed and bubbled onto her shin-high boots. She grimaced down at her feet, shaking her leg and causing the blood to splatter across her fighting ring.
“Ye are dead!” a towering, thick male growled.
A thick, jagged scar slashed across his left eye, his iris and pupil no longer visible, churning into a milky colour from poor healing. His stare narrowed onto her.
It unnerved Kora, looking into eyes—eye—that was so like Agatha’s. She instinctively rubbed the left side of her temple, her fingers tracing her own scar, before beckoning him to attack with a sinister smile.
With a charging yell, the male thrust his sword, meeting her blow for blow as he forced her to the edge of the makeshift ring. She gritted her teeth at the unexpected sharpness of a sword poking into her back, his fellow exiles snickering.Shit,they had her.
Kora dropped and spun, bringing her daggers up to block the blow from behind she expected, but the exiles merely laughed at her, their swords loose at their sides. With a frown, she rolled backwards as the eyeless male swung his cutlass sword down with a roaring bellow mere inches from slicing her.
Too close. Get it together!
“Stop!” a high-pitched, wavering voice rang. “She has to stay alive!”
Kora panted as she rushed to her feet, her boots struggling against the blood-mixed-with-sand terrain. The eyeless male approached. Beyond the fighting ring, her crew defended the sentinel and his guard against the barrage of exiles. There were too many. She’d have to perform a gods-damned miracle to reach them.
In a raging fit, the male swung his sword with brutality—and she evaded every strike, her daggers parrying until she sliced his hand, causing him to drop the sword with a pained hiss. She brought her knee up, winding him, and forcing him to his knees as she pummelled the hilt of a dagger into the base of his neck. As he collapsed to the ground, her daggers pressed to either side of his throat.
“What does she mean . . .keep me alive?” Kora snarled in his ear.
“We’re under orders not to touch ye!” he spat.
She scanned the crowd circling her. This wasn’t a fighting ring—it was a diversion. They’d separated her from her crew, and she’d been too blind to see it.Gods damn it. The barrageagainst her crew teemed with bodies, all intent with the purpose to kill.
“From whom?” Kora tightened the gap between her blades until she nicked the surface of his skin.
“We don’t know their names,” a light voice spoke, and she glanced at a scrawny, too-thin female standing on the edge of the ring. Her cheeks were hollow, her scraggly hair tied up, with thin wispy strands framing her long face. A kindness radiated from the deep lines etched into her face, and the mask gripping Kora’s essence relaxed, sensing a calm presence.
“It was more than one person,” Kora confirmed, and the stranger nodded, her head bobbing on her pole-like neck.
First, Captain James Cannon. Then the Skytors, and now the exiles were after her. Her mind spun with overwhelming possibilities. Why would they wanther? She was no one but a lost girl.
“Yes! They said not to harm you. But we didn’t kn-know that it’d be like this.” She gestured to the bodies surrounding them, the blood coating Kora like a second skin. “That you’d be . . .” Her brown eyes glanced away, unable to bear to look at Kora a moment longer.
Shame and horror flitted through her, and she tried to separate herself from the tangle of her emotions; the war between her two selves cresting. This was a trap.Theywere the enemy,theywere exiles.Theyhad come to kill them—kill, kill, kill.
“Kora!” Blake’s voice pierced through her mind, and she spun. Piles of bodies surrounded her crew.
Another exile sneaked towards her, his lance raised, face twisted with violence. Blake ran, his face panicked, with Samuel, Aryn, and Ivar in tow.Where was Theron?Had they lost him? Worst yet, had the exiles killed him?
She kicked the eyeless male back to twist out of the attacker’s way. His lance sliced her arm, and she cried out in pain as she darted to the side to get away from him. Sand blew up in her face, and she choked—choking once again—and flashbacks of Callan surged. Her breathing turned ragged, her arm sluicing with pain. She had to get away.
Gripping her bleeding arm, Kora faced the lancer and the sneering, eyeless male. He could see the terror rising from deep within her, her mask falling away.Oh gods.How many people had she killed?
The remaining circle of exiles disbanded, charging towards Blake and the crew, and they clashed head on, weapons cutting the air. Metal clanging, voices yelling. The boars scarpered across the dunes, fleeing the chaos. Through it all, Blake’s gaze was trained on her, never leaving her face. His eyes wild with rage.
Kora stood with the eyeless male, his lancer counterpart, and the mysterious thin female.Almighty Thanos, forgive my actions.She was a murderer, like Jack had said.
“Tell me who gave you orders.” She levelled the daggers in her palms.
