Page 46 of Tricky Princess
Though there were no guards left after Devon’s outburst and they had a moment of peace, Billy and Ros readied their stances as Garm rushed to Devon.
“We need to stabilize him,” Garm said, holding Sam’s paws down to stop his relentless rubbing of his face. “Water, Devon, summon water and then a mora spell to stop the poison from spreading.”
Devon shook his head as though to clear it.
“Dev, you got this.” Ros left Billy’s side to stand by him. “Deep breaths.”
He held Devon’s wrists, steadying him as he formed water. He let go to help rub away the blood and leftover poison.
“I’m sorry,” Ros said to Sam as he panted and winced from his touch.
Once clean, Devon began mumbling the words to halt the poison. His hand glowed, and slowly, Sam’s chest stopped heaving and he no longer flinched in pain.
“We’ve got to move.” Ros wrapped him in a tendril of shadows, steadying the wolven on all four feet. “I’ve got you.”
Sam blinked slowly and huffed a breath. They moved.
“How many more floors?” Devon yelled after embedding two obsidian daggers into a guard that was more beast than man. They had traveled twelve floors and had one to go; he mouthed the number to Devon, even though the guards probably knew his goal. He let himself feel guilty for a moment as he slashed through his attacker’s knees with his stolen sword. He didn’t feel bad for the guards; he felt bad for those who would have to clean up this bloody mess.
Ros flicked his wrist, expelling some tensions and reminding his magic to wait. He still had enough energy to keep his powers at bay—for now.
“We only want Ellea,” he tried telling a guard who ran to him with his sword stretched over head. “Really? Who is training you idiots?”
He easily blocked the move and then spun, kicking him square in the chest and forcing him back several feet.
“Give us Ellea and we will end this!” he yelled for anyone to hear.
Why were they so vicious? Why were the guards so helbent on trying to hurt them? No one wanted to talk, no one answered their questions; they just kept coming. He glanced back at Sam, making sure he was still moving, still alive, and caught a guard glaring after them.
“You won’t get to the witch bitch,” he said to Ros, spitting up blood as he slid down the wall. “You and your father are so power-hungry, but I hear she likes to share—”
Devon stabbed him through the chin, cutting off his insult. Standing, he looked at Ros. He almost flinched at the deadly look on Devon’s face. He hoped that this was only a façade, a mask he wore to get through this, to get to Ellea and be strong for Sam. Ros knew that the hags and this was the first time he had killed. He would kick himself for this later, but they were so close. This would be fixed, all of it would be. So they moved up to the last floor.
The light flutter in his chest was hopeful as the soldiers began to thin, most running now as they neared his father’s wing. None of his father’s men had shown up, and he began to wonder if this was all Belias or Beelzebub’s doing.
“Rosier?” a general called as they went around the corner. It was Mythis, a general he had trained himself. A group of his father’s soldiers stood behind him. He was clad in black and gold armor, the same armor that Ros had worn. He drew the sword that Ros had gifted him when he was promoted to general and pointed it at him. “Don’t do this.”
Ros readied his own weapon. “I’ve only been defending myself. Where is he, Mythis?”
“You cannot go to your father this enraged; let’s put down our weapons and talk like civilized beasts.”
Why weren’t they standing down? Where was Ellea? If she was hurt… “It’s too late for civil,” he said, throwing his shadows at a lunging soldier. “You took what is mine, and I want her back.”
18
Ellea
TWELVE DAYS IN HEL
Ellea turned another page of her book before shaking her hand. Her magic had been erratic the past two days and had begun changing or manifesting on its own. She’d had to ask Azzy what could be done. She felt as though she was overflowing with power. It wasn’t like before when it had felt as though it would explode; now it was as though it was seeping from her pores. She needed to expel it somehow.
Fine, she could do that. Electric air hummed around her as she slowly let go of the book, making it float in front of her. Now that her hands were free, she could work on forming and deforming her favorite dagger while she continued to read. There, energy expelled. Her powers seemed to sigh now that they could do something. She almost didn’t notice a few women who scurried past her with their tails between their legs. Scrunching her brows, she shrugged and went back to what she was doing.
“‘Man the dead,’” she scoffed at the words she was reading. “More like separate and ignore.”
Another soldier barreled past her, causing her to whirl around, her skirts billowing around her.
“Hey!” Ellea called after him. “Watch it, ass-hat!”
