Page 57 of The Mountain King
Kailigh made a mental note of who stayed, and who quietly packed up shop. “Hatcher?”
“He doesn’t know. Best that way, right? Plausible deniability.”
They took up positions near their empty stand, Persia trotting around to the mothers in the crowd and hustling them away. Occasionally, flashing a weapon if an owner needed extra convincing. But Kai’s was well known enough around town, and a look at her hard face was all the convincing some people needed. Plus, the sudden flashing of multiple weapons from the vendors who’d stayed.
The crowd remained quiet but tense as Ruthus emerged down the plank. Men walked in front and behind him, but it was clear he thought it business as usual. Kailigh allowed him that delusion until he reached the ground, then stepped from the cover of her stand.
“Ruthus Adjrius,” she yelled, “this is a citizen’s arrest.”
And then all hellfire broke loose.
His men reacted immediately, Ruthus pulling a pistol with his real arm. Kailigh didn’t wait, sighting her flintlock and opening fire. The courtyard was clear of bystanders—anyone who remained was committed to the fight. And he wasn’t going to turn himself in easy.
They kept the cover of the booth, even when more of Ruthus’ men came running down the street. Vendors turned, taking care of the attack on their flanks while Kailigh emerged from her shelter.
Ruthus grimaced. “You’ll regret this stupidity, mistress,” he shouted. “Who do you think is backing me?”
That was a question for the constable—and for Maddugh. The sides were evenly matched—until townspeople began arriving, their small handguns and sawed off shotguns grabbing Ruthus’ attention. His men were well armed, but suddenly outnumbered. Kailigh grinned, jaw locked, and increased her fire, pausing only to reload ammo. The whole thing was barely a handful of minutes, though it felt like a week of gunfire. As more townspeople arrived, Kailigh knew that they had a shot of capturing him—dead or alive.
"He's retreating!” Persia yelled.
The one-armed man was scrambling up the airbus ladder, counting on his men to keep the women occupied. Kailigh gritted her teeth but was hard pressed to do anything but continue to return fire.
Serephone glanced in the direction of Persia's stare and dropped to one knee. Moving swiftly, she pulled a narrow metal tube from inside her vest, put it to her lips, and blew.
Kailigh jerked, a shot firing wild. The tube let out a high-pitched shriek and a rapid series of tiny, shiny objects flew in a stream. The silver things caught the edges of his sleeves, at first appearing as if Sere had missed. But they expanded, unfolding into a gaggle of eerie silver spiders and began crawling all over him. He screamed, and she could see rents in the fabric of his coat and thin streams of blood.
He jerked, losing his grip as he frantically swiped at the mechanical spiders, and fell backward. It wasn’t a long drop, but it was enough that he made a thud, head cracking against the packed dirt of the circle.
A constable's whistle blew. Their enemies continued to fire, but slowly backed up, grim and professional.
Kailigh cursed and ran forward from her protected crouch, swerving to avoid bullets and the deadly currents of burning steam. She stumbled as the tiniest trickle of heat seared her upper left arm.
And in the distance, a dragon roared.
