Page 93 of The Cerulean Sister
It's a strange feeling to want to rejoice that she was able to kill him. I do not know this priestess, but her divine instinct kicked in and she did not hesitate to defend the Estate from whatever force is here now and against it.
I smile and nod, hoping she knows that I could not help her somehow, but I notice something behind me has caught her eye.
Her face flashes with relief, and then an almost betrayed look replaces it.
When I turn, there is an Estate guard standing in the corridor, his arm raised. He does not hold a guard’s sword—he has not come to defend us.
A large gun is pointed at the high priestess and before I can gasp, a bright blue streak of lightning zips past me.
I jump and step back as he then turns his rigid arm in my direction. My palm rises on its own, not to block his aim but as a desperate effort to call forth my light one last time.
Please, come back to me.I splay my fingers wide.
Ben pushes into the guard's side with his shoulder, tackling him to the ground.
I scream as a deadly beam meant for me hits the ceiling and the gun falls from his grasp, skidding across the floor. I clutch atmy stomach, hoping the empty feeling isn't a hole blown through my middle.
The two men scramble, fighting to gain power over the other.
Ben's sword is lost and kicked across the corridor as they hit each other blow after blow, finally wrestling each other to the floor.
I watch in horror as the attacker lifts Ben up by the metal collar of his armor and slams his head into the stone.
Ben shifts, reaching to the side.
Then the guard screams, reaching down to the vulnerable spot on his side where two pieces of armor connect, withdrawing a bloody dagger.
I almost trip over the high priestess’s lifeless legs as I press myself back into the wall. And when I look over again, they both hold onto the handle of the blade, gloved hands wrapped and layered in a tangle. It shakes between their grasps, a push and pull of direction.
If I don't help in some way, Ben will succumb to him. He is skilled, a decorated guard, but this man has a force deep within him that is fueling his rage. He is not fighting just to survive but something more.
There is no time to try to compel my light again. It will not come. I cannot rely on it to protect us.
I stare at the long sword that was kicked away. I won't be able to get close enough to use it or am even strong enough to lift the heavy metal and cut through the guard’s armor before he turns on me.
Reaching down without a second thought, I pick the black metal gun up from the floor and hold it like I have seen 99 and many commanders on Viathan do.
This one is . . . different but the same basic shape.
I point the blocky barrel side at the guard on top of Ben, close my eyes, and push the little button where my finger naturally falls.
A strong beam of light shoots out to the wall behind them, the force of it making me step back to catch myself.
The guard pushes down harder on Ben, getting up on his knees and using his upper half.
Both men grunt, the sounds terrible and urgent.
"Please," I whisper to no one.
I push the little button again, praying it doesn't miss this time.
The blue beam zips to the assailant’s thigh, making him crumple to the side, just enough for Ben to take advantage.
I hold up the gun again, but they are so tangled together, I can't tell which limbs belong to whom.
With one final grunt, the larger man falls to the side as Ben pushes him off, the dagger sunk deeply into his collar.
I dump the gun to my feet and turn to the high priestess lying on the ground where she fell. I know she is dead, but it does not seem right to leave her without checking.
