Page 39 of Boundless
She took their hand off at the wrist, blood limned with silver moonlight spurting in an arc from the stump as the hand flew back to tumble onto the roof beside the other two figures, still shuffling closer.
Hearing their companion's scream, they redoubled their efforts, clambering to come to their aid, but even though Daega had taken off the hand not wielding the smaller figure’s weapon, she'd shocked them too much for them to put up a fight. She ran her sword through their chest with a scream of her own: a scream that tore through the night, lighting the air with her rage, ringing and echoing until her own fury was all she could hear.
She tossed her dagger onto the bed and ripped her small crossbow from her lower back, dropping her sword to the floor to snatch an arrow from the quiver between her wings. She was thanking all the gods in all the realms for her not removing her armor yet for the night, and for their whispers that had made her hurry back. Just a few more minutes—a pause to chat with the lads downstairs, a trip to the kitchens to see about warming the water—and Len might have been dead.
If it wasn't for the trance she would have broken down at the thought. But with the ancient power of her people thrumming through her, all there was room for was another battle cry, a sound like a hawk's keening tearing from her throat as she took aim and fired at the closer of the climbers.
She hit their spine, another arrow already in her hands and getting loaded before her target even had a chance to make a sound. She got their companion in the shoulder, and now the other two on the ground were scrambling, heading for a set of horses whinnying at the scent of blood in the air somewhere among the trees on the other side of the road.
The figure she'd hit in the spine had gone limp, though they were moaning and gasping in a panic. The other had rolled onto their good side, their hand reaching desperately for a weapon she couldn't see in the dark. Daega had another arrow nocked and flying for its target before they could finish drawing whatever was hidden under their cloak.
But in her haste to finish off the threat below her window, Daega had forgotten to watch for the other two that had fled. Or, she'dassumedthey'd fled, scared off by the deaths of their companions, but the heavy bolt slamming into her shoulder said otherwise.
She heard a masculine voice curse, hissing a reprimand her trance-sharpened earsjustcaught. "We're supposed to leave the big bitchalive, dumbass!"
"I hit her arm; I fucking know what I'm doing, Bael."Bael.She made sure to remember that name.
"D-Dae!" Len wailed, seeing her fall. She barely felt the wound, thanks to the adrenaline pumping through her system, but her left arm had stopped responding to her commands, and she could feel blood soaking her clothes and gluing them to her skin.
Len crawled across the floor to her as fast as he could, cupping her face and patting at her chest while he struggled not to lose his head. "Wh-what do I—"
"Go get help, dearest," she told him, using her good hand to yank his chin over to where she wanted him. "Stay low, move quickly. Grab the first guard you can and scream bloody murder. I'll try and stop them."
"B-but—you're hurt—"
"Now, pet!" she growled, narrowing her eyes. She sucked in a breath, gentling her tone. "Please, Len. I'll be fine. Do this for me."
His chin wobbled, but he nodded, tearing his hands from her and backing away. "I-I love you. P-please be careful," he sobbed.
"Good boy. You have my heart, sweetling. Now go!" She rolled, getting her legs under her and grabbing her dagger off the bed. A peek out the ruined window showed the two remaining members of the invading group approaching the side of the inn, perhaps to get up to the roof themselves. She snarled, baring her teeth as her venom sacs swelled near to bursting at the back of her mouth. She flung her dagger at them, managing to drop one to their knee and create enough of a distraction to squeeze through the window and onto the roof. She bunched her legs under her, gathering her strength, and launched herself over the edge. Her wings snapped open at the apex of her leap, catching just enough air in their small leathery sails to slow her fall and let her make the landing safely.
She was slashing and screaming even before she'd fully settled onto the ground, making the men in front of her scrabble back to regain the distance they'd need to stay out of the way of her claws. But they truly must not have ever fought one of her kind before, because they didn't appear to know about her venom.
She spat the thick black gob into the deep shadow of the closest one's hood, making him flinch and shriek. It was corrosive, meaning it hurt just by making contact with any skin that wasn't Istariin, but it was also a true venom that caused the heart and lungs to shut down within minutes of it entering the bloodstream. Such as when encountering mucus membranes. Like those in the nose, mouth...or eyes.
The man dropped to his knees, still shrieking and clawing at his face. His companion—not the one she'd hit with the dagger, she realized—advanced on her with a cry, his sword held high. "I'll fucking kill you, you ugly bitch!" he snarled, slashing at her bad side with a short sword.
Daega was slowing, the trance fizzling out as she reached her body's limits. She shuffled back, cursing herself for not grabbing her sword before making her move, but she only had to last until Len got the guards.
Wait, wherewerethe guards? Surely by now, everyone in the inn knew something was happening. Why hadn't anyone come out? Why was she still fighting alone?
Cold dread dropped her belly, a shiver running up her spine that made her two lower wings shudder. Salerah's fires, what wasHAPPENING?!
She noted movement over her opponent's shoulder, coming from the tree line, and her blood just about froze in her veins. She knew that mop of curly hair, knew that narrow frame and she knew, though it was dark, that the large eyes glittering in the moonlight would be the emerald of lush summer grass.
"You can certainly try to fell me," she taunted, desperate to keep her opponent's attention on her, "But you'll have to grow some bollocks and get your wee dick out of your hand, eh boy-o?"
He charged again, trying to run her through with his blade, but she'd managed to rile him enough that his attack had been sloppy, and even with the post-trance fatigue setting in, she dodged it easily. Venom was rapidly refilling her sacs, almost enough to spit again. "Oh come on, where did you even learn to use that dull piece of trash? A wee babby would be able to hold it steadier."
"I know what you're trying to do!" he shouted, spittle flying into the air. "But it won't work! I'll put you down like the animal you a—" But the rest of his words would stay locked in his ruined throat, snatched by the point of a sword. Len had managed to sneak up behind him and had run the man through the back of the neck.
Daega had to admit, she hadn't expected that.
The man collapsed with a gurgle, his blade falling from his limp hand. He sagged forward onto his face, and Daega took the opportunity to retrieve what she realized washersword, wiping the blade clean on her opponent’s cloak.
"You scared the shite out of me, love," she rasped, pulling him into a one-armed hug. He was pale and shivery when she pulled away, his eyes very far away. "Focus on me, Len," she said, shaking him a little to get his attention. "I think something's wrong inside. No one's come out to check on the ruckus."
He shook himself, nodding and putting an arm around her waist in a half-hug. "Y-yes, there's fight i-in th-the common r-room. I don't—"
