his last.
She’d appreciate the story. He wasn’t going to get a chance to share it.
“Go.” Cab picked up an awl in his other hand and strode out of the hidden stage compartment, came forward to meet the Queensguard. Seven of them. Impossible odds. But he might be able to make a difference if he acted quickly, might be able to slow them down long enough for Einan to lead the others to escape. “Remember what matters.”
“The balls on you,” Einan sniffed, already leaping onto the stage with an acrobat’s grace, “thinking you need to tell me what’s important!”
The Queensguard clattered along the aisle toward him, then descended on him. Cab pierced one in the throat, through the joint where helmet met gorget. He took the sword out of the wounded Queensguard’s hands as another elbowed him, knocking him down. That same Queensguard impaled himself as Cab thrust his stolen sword upward and lurched back to his feet.
Five against one.
The actors were screaming and fleeing. The theater owner had disappeared in the struggle. Cab hoped they’d make it out unscathed. In the background, Einan hollered something about how he had to survive this so she could give him what for, for overplaying the hero.
This wasn’t a play. And if it were, it would be a tragedy.
A third Queensguard lunged at him and Cab swung the hammer into his wrist, dove backward into the seats.
He was messing up Einan’s theater, but if he could lead the Queensguard out of the aisles and into the tighter, cramped audience quarters, he’d be able to use their numbers against them like he had in the sewers.
Another Queensguard swung at him, chunks of a wooden seat flying up from where his sword raked them loose.
“Go after the girl!” the captain bellowed. “We’ll deal with this one.”
“Not a chance.” Cab jumped onto the seat backs, leaping across two aisles, lunging for the Queensguard who’d managed to break away. Tackled him around the neck. Sent them both crashing to the floor.
Since the Queensguard was in armor and Cab wasn’t, it hurt Cab worse. He caught a steel elbow to the gut and sputtered, the wind knocked out of him. Another Queensguard rushed over while Cab was down, kicked him in the head and chest. Red blood sprayed from his nose. Cab saw stars.
Had he bought the others enough time?
Sorry, One, Cab thought. Was looking forward to getting to know you better. To forming something bigger than myself. The boot caught his cheek. Bone crunched. Instincts kicked in and Cab swung the hammer around, caught the Queensguard in the knee, metal plate smashed into his leg. The Queensguard howled and dropped, but another wrenched the hammer from Cab’s hand, lifted it high.
Cab watched it rise, swore to himself he wouldn’t shut his eyes against the blow when it fell.
It didn’t fall.
Instead, silver raked across steel. The Queensguard over Cab whipped around as claws batted him aside. He was thrown hard into the far wall, taking half a row of seats with him as he flew across the theater. In his place, One rose on her hind legs, opened her mouth, and screamed a grinding snarl.
You look terrible. Your pretty face, she told Cab.
New strength surged through his limbs, as though he was also made of unbreakable fae silver. She offered him her power, letting it flow between them. The agony in his beaten body faded to a hum.
Cab rose as Hope appeared, braced his hands on One’s back, launched himself over her head into the Queensguard’s midst.
There were only three Queensguard left fighting, but watching Hope move, a gold-and-black blur, Cab realized that if there’d been thirty, the outcome would have been the same. In a flash they were down, Hope pummeling them through their armor with his bare hands.
His knuckles left dents in the metal.
He broke bones through plate, crushed helmets into skulls. Cab caught his breath while leaning on One for support, thought he heard her whistle with approval.
“That’s enough.” Cab’s voice came out sticky with blood and ragged with exertion. “They’re down. They won’t follow. And we have to get away before they send more.”
Hope froze, fist in midair. He wavered. Wanted to keep going until the metal before him was pounded flat, the bodies inside nothing but pulp.
Then he lowered his arm and stood. Raced back toward Cab and One, vaulted over both of them. “This way,” he said, “to Sil’s side.”
Hop on, One added.
She carried Cab out of the Gilded Lily—or what remained of