Siobhan demanded as she used her hands and elbows to shove people out of her way.
“Two men have her by the arms and are dragging her toward that alley.” Hammon raised his voice to a bellow. “LET GO OF HER! NOW!”
Siobhan felt her ears ring at the volume, but she felt grateful he had yelled, as she certainly didn’t have the lung power to be heard over this din.
Instead of just following behind, Hammon stepped around her and blazed a trail straight ahead, still yelling for them to stop. Siobhan stuck close to his back, afraid to lose him in the crowd as people just melted back into position once he’d pushed his way through.
Finally they reached a semi-clear area. She took in the whole scene in a second. Denney was leaning backward with all her might, fighting the hold of two men that were trying to drag her forward. They had both hands on her wrists, using considerable strength to hold on to her. Both men were tall, muscular, and obviously Teheranian. Denney had tears streaming down her cheeks, sobs pouring out of her mouth. When she saw Siobhan, she lit up in relief and screamed, “SIOBHAN!”
Siobhan reacted instinctively. She closed in the final distance in a flash, and with all the strength that she could muster, struck both men hard in the sternum, driving the air from their lungs.
Gasping for breath, their hold on Denney loosened. Hammon lost no time in grabbing Denny around the shoulders and hauling her away from them completely, bringing her to his own chest in a fiercely protective move. Denney openly clung to him, shaking and crying.
Siobhan drew both swords and assumed a guard position in front of them, eyes snapping with anger. “What is going on here?” she gritted out between clenched teeth.
One of the men—she dubbed him as ‘Drunkard’ because he stank of cheap alcohol—pointed to Denney with an outraged shake of the hand. “That woman belongs to us!”
“That woman is Denney Icean, member of Deepwoods Guild,” Siobhan riposted icily. “I am her guildmaster. You want to rethink that statement, you gleeking clodpole?”
“She belongs to us,” the other man asserted with quiet authority. He looked angry as well, but composed instead of flaring like his companion. “She has since she was born.”
“No!” Denney refuted strongly. “My uncle bought me from you! I owe no debt to you!”
Uncle? Bought? What by the wind and stars was going on here? Siobhan wanted to ask questions—she desperately wanted to ask questions—but this was not the time or place to get things sorted out. Whatever the history, she knew one fact to hold true: Denney had no business going with these men.
“Your uncle is not here,” the man responded with that same eerie, irrefutable tone. “When you are out of sight of your owner, anyone can lay claim to you.”
By Teheranian culture and law, that was unfortunately true. Siobhan tried to think hard and fast to get out of this without needing to fight them for the right to keep Denney.
“Her uncle also belongs to Deepwoods.” Hammon’s voice was like a quiet rumble of thunder, low but full of dangerous power. “What belongs to one guildmember belongs to the guildmaster. Her guildmaster is before you. You cannot claim ownership here.”
“That is not true by the laws of this city.”
Siobhan knew in that moment that whatever was said, these men would not be convinced. They wanted Denney, and they didn’t care if they had to resort to tricks or break a few laws to have her. Her grip tightened on her swords.
“I don’t care if it’s true by your laws or not. You have no claim over her and you can’t have her. Go your own way.”
“Or what?” Drunkard challenged, lip curling in a sneer.
Tran melted from the crowd and with deliberate movements took up a stance next to Siobhan. Grae must have sent out a search party as she’d requested. She stole a glance at him and felt fear shake her inner core at the dark expression she saw there. Never before had she seen Tran so openly enraged. It scared even her, and that anger wasn’t directed at her.
“Take one step,” Tran crooned darkly, voice promising death. “Come near me and mine, if you wish to put your lives in my hands.”
They eyed him from head to toe and back again, and for the first time, looked nervous.
“Guildmaster, take her,” Hammon encouraged.
Siobhan glanced over her shoulder and found that Hammon was already unsheathing the