I waited until he was in range, then spun past him and sliced my dagger across his back. He screamed and tumbled to the ground. He tried to get up, but I punched my dagger into his back, once, twice, three times, killing him. I transferred the dagger to my left hand, then wrested the dead man’s sword out of his grip. With a weapon in both hands, I turned to face my enemies.
Hacking, slashing, whirling, twirling. I called upon everything I had ever learned about fighting from Rhea, Serilda, and Evie, and I spun this way and that, cutting down every Mortan who came near me. Beside me, Reiko swiped out with her talons, ripping open a guard’s stomach, while Grimley lowered his head and rammed his horns into another man.
I cut down another guard and whirled around, ready to fight a new enemy, when I spotted Milo standing about ten feet away. I tightened my grip on my weapons and charged forward. He grinned and watched me come. I screamed and raised my weapons high, determined to kill him.
But it was a trap.
Right before I would have shoved my sword into his gut, Milo snapped up his hand and blasted me with his lightning. I managed to dodge most of the magic, but one of the bolts clipped my shoulder and spun me around. Hot, electric pain exploded in my right arm, and I lost my grip on my stolen sword, which tumbled away across the flagstones. I snarled, but I whirled around and faced him again.
Milo charged forward. I lashed out with my dagger, but he avoided the blow and punched me in the face. Pain exploded in my jaw, and I staggered away. Milo grabbed the front of my tunic, yanking me back toward him.
“You’re pathetic!” he hissed. “I can’t believe that you survived the Seven Spire massacre. You’re not worthy of that ugly royal crest.”
Milo reached down and broke the silver chain around my neck, tearing my gargoyle pendant off my chest. Then he reared his hand back and threw it away.
“No!” I let out a choked scream.
Desperation filled me, and my gaze locked onto the pendant as it zipped through the air. I had to get it back—
Milo snapped up his hand and hit me square in the chest with his lightning.
The blast of magic threw me back ten feet. I crashed into one of the merchant carts filled with bolts of cloth, lost my grip on my dagger, and fell to the ground. Part of the cart splintered under my weight, while the top of it landed against the ground at an angle, creating an odd sort of table over my head, with scarlet fabric draping over one side.
“Gemma! Gemma!”
Reiko and Grimley both shouted at me, but they were surrounded by Mortans, and they couldn’t come help me. They were barely keeping themselves alive.
Milo shot off another bolt of lightning, this time targeting the gargoyle fountain in the center of the plaza. The stone figure exploded, and sharp shards of shrapnel zipped through the air and pelted the miners, merchants, and shoppers still gathered around us.
“Kill them all!” Milo yelled. “No one escapes!”
Chaos erupted in the plaza. People screamed and ran away, trying to escape from the charging Mortans and their slashing swords. The strixes also moved forward, hopping along the ground, lashing out with their beaks and raking their talons across the merchants’ carts, reducing the wood to kindling. Yells, cries, and shouts tore through the air, along with the strixes’ high-pitched shrieks, and the coppery stench of blood filled my nose.
All of that was horrific enough. But without my gargoyle pendant, I couldn’t block out the thoughts and feelings of everyone around me, and they all stabbed into my mind one after another, just like the Mortans were stabbing their swords into whomever they could reach.
Gotta run! Hide! Get away!
Hurts so much!
No! No! No!
The confusing, babbling thoughts and the accompanying fear, panic, pain, terror, and dread instantly overwhelmed me. I clapped my hands over my ears to muffle the actual, audible screams and shrieks, but that didn’t stop the thoughts and feelings from pummeling my mind. Tears streamed down my face, a choked sob escaped my lips, and I rocked back and forth on the ground, still halfway under the splintered cart.
I wasn’t seeing the plaza anymore. No, the shouts, the screams, and the stench of blood had taken me right back to the Seven Spire massacre. Suddenly, I was twelve