Page 114 of The Lost Reliquary
Nolan and I draw our weapons. But the Caerula have the high ground. And a dozen crossbows, ready to make short work of us.
“None of that,” Ramiro grumbles. “Drop them.”
“Lys…” Nolan hisses.
I hear the question. But I already know the answer. “Not much of a choice here.” Slowly, I lower my sickles to the stone. Even slower, Nolan follows suit. There’s an ominous, almost musical slink of chains as the Caerula move in on us, more cautiously than in the cave. Clearly, they’ve learned something. The ones with chains keep behind the ones with spears, who prod Nolan and me, herding us like animals. I feel the chill mass of the stone pillars before my back hits one, waves already licking at their base with hungry impatience, as if they know how long it’s been since they were last fed.
“And here I thought immolation was the worst way to go.” I smirk at Nolan even as the pair of Caerula begin looping chains around us. “At least that would be quick.”
“Much quicker,” Nolan tosses back, which is how I know he’s caught on.
Flames explode from his palms, leaping onto the Caerula binding him, engulfing his cloak in an instant. He screams and Nolan’s chains drop. Mine stay where they are, but the distraction is sufficient. I jerk forward, yanking the Caerula with me. She slams face-first into the stone and crumples. Then I’m free too. I twist, barely avoid getting spitted by a spear, and grab its shaft. One yank and its mine; I jam the butt end into the wielder’s face, feel bone crunch. But I don’t need weapons, I need cover. I throw an arm around the man’s throat and pull him close as I brandish the spear in my other hand.
When I risk a glance over, Nolan has his own human shield, hands twisted in the man’s cloak. “Fight me and you’ll end up burning like your friend.” The “friend” was smart enough to break for the water. Not smart enough to know it wouldn’t smother the divine flame quickly enough. His screams sound for a few more agonizing seconds before the waves swallow him, cries and all. “Same goes for you,” I whisper in my Caerula’s ear.
Nowit’s a fight. The Caerula may have learned something from our last encounter, but it wasn’t enough. Nolan and I slowly walk ourshields forward. Their companions, whey faced and unsure what to do, retreat.
Ramiro’s curses echo throughout the shrine. “What are you doing? Kill them!”
I laugh. Loudly, so Ramiro can hear it. “Should have told your archers to put a few bolts in us first. Well, live and learn. Or not. We’ll see how it goes.”
No one moves. It was a gamble, wagering that the Caerula actually gave a damn about their own, but like Ramiro said, Cyprene belongs to Cyprene. These people are compatriots. Neighbors. Friends.
At least, I hope.
We gain more ground. Nolan scoops up his sword, and I speedily discard my spear for a sickle, then slip it into its holder before grabbing the other. Our meat-shields whimper but know better than to resist.
“Not willing to make sacrifices, Ramiro?” It sounds like a taunt, but Nolan is stalling, giving us time to press our way up the steps. The Caerula tighten as they recede, making it even harder for the archers to risk a shot.
“You’re prolonging this. There’s nowhere to go but through us.” Ramiro is right, but at least he soundspissedabout it.
“Lys.” Nolan speaks low as we reach the last, highest tier of the shrine, where the crowd of Caerula block any further advance. “We’re probably not going to get out of this.”
“I know.” I lock eyes with him. Wink. “But it will be fun to try.”
In unison, we shove our shields into their companions and attack. There are shouts, a clatter of footsteps, thethwapof crossbows loosing their arrows. Nolan and I go for the lantern carriers first. I duck a sword swing as my first target panics, dropping his light in a scrambling attempt to draw his weapon. It shatters. He goes tumbling as I barrel into him, arcing my blade at the next-closest light bearer. This one is more steadfast, and catches my sickle across her throat for that bravery.
Blood flows.
Darkness descends.
For the Caerula, at least. I can still see well enough. Some of the Caerula try to attack as chaos erupts, others to flee, but Nolan takesout another lantern, and what little light is left creates more confusion than clarity. Shadows flutter like oversized bats as I disembowel one, take three fingers off another. Nolan sends someone flying off the end of a stone tier—not a fatal fall, but the landing should take the fight out of them. Moments later, the last of the lanterns winks out. Beneath the shadowed overhang, the Caerula can’t tell friend from foe.
“Kill them!” I don’t see Ramiro but I hear him. “Kill anything that comes at you!”
His panic makes me smile. Makes me seethe, calling to those dark depths within. What answers grows like a flame—an inferno. And for the first time, I sense it in Nolan too. Blood singing to blood. Our divinity, as strong as it will ever be, rising to meet this trial and not giving it a single fucking inch. When we move, our training mirrors itself. Our techniques, our strikes, all born from the same place, following the same rhythm. There are dozens of Caerula, the whole of Ramiro’s forces for sure. I don’t care. He could have brought a hundred. A thousand. I don’t even flinch when a line of pain scrapes up my back, or when something pierces the meat of my arm. We fight on, the salty spray of the waves now deliciously bloody, wolves cutting through a foolish flock.
Then, suddenly, I have a chance to breathe. A hand clamps down on my arm. I raise my sickle to strike—
Nolan.
He points.
The cliff path is open, clear.
We run.
The way is narrow, and Nolan falls in behind me, stone to one side of us, air and a long fall on the other. There’s no telling if the Caerula know we’re gone, but they’ll figure it out soon enough, relight their lanterns, be on our heels. The unevenness of the path slows us, but we have a head start. We’ll be able to lose them in the city.
