Devlan downs a knight and moves to my side. We’re surrounded, but one of us has to get to Sebastian and end the battle before too many are lost.
“Devlan. Go,” I shout.
His expression is torn as he looks between the hallway leading to the secret lift and me, fighting the two knights.
“Duty first.” I force as much conviction into my unsteady voice as possible.
He plunges his sword into a knight’s chest, then nods at me once before racing down the corridor. I release a relieved breath but don’t have time to imagine him finally facing Sebastian—and not throwing the fight—as one of the knights clips my shoulder.
Dammit. Are they all trained to strike there?
My shoulder blazes with pain. Infuriated, I knock his sword to the side, forcing him to expose his center, and run him through. The other knight sees an opening while I’m occupied and aims for my arm. I twist my sword, still in the first knight’s chest, and block the blow. Then I yank my sword free and attack him full on.
I’ve seen this knight before. I remember him from my betrothal ceremony and from the tournament. For a moment, I wonder if his family is out on the battlefield—if he’s been given a choice in his actions. But as his blade nearly clips me, I force all distracting thoughts aside.
Right now, he’s my enemy, and only one of us will walk away. I swing and sever the hand holding his sword. He drops to his knees. A cry tears from his mouth. I turn away, ready to leave him and go help my allies, but he picks up his sword with the other hand and slashes my thigh.
I crumple to the ground. As I press my hand over the wound, he stands. Before he can deliver another blow, I roll, throw my dagger at him, and grab my sword. He dodges my dagger and stumbles back before coming at me again. I duck as he swipes at my head and then raise up, impaling him in the stomach. He folds, and I shakily get to my feet. I bring my sword up and slice him across the neck. Thick red blood drips to the floor. He smears it along the stone as he lands.
I study the puddle.
“Zara.” Fallon’s voice jolts me out of my daze.
I whip my head toward her. She slashes a knight across the chest, and he drops to the floor. “Go with Devlan. We’ve got this. Stop the Taken.”
My chest rises as I take in a steadying breath. I nod, then shuffle over to the slain knight. I tear off a piece of his uniform and use it to pick up his hand. As I limp down the corridor, I’m not sure if she really feels Devlan needs my help, or if she wants me out of the way. I’m having a difficult time walking, never mind fighting.
I decide I don’t care. Devlan is up there with his sworn enemy. So far, Sebastian has proven to be just as sadistic, if not more so, than the man who raised him. I don’t know what other sick tricks might await us if we don’t end him soon.
Holding my sword ready, I head down the corridor toward the secret lift. The severed hand drips red along the hallway as I go.
FORTY-ONE
When the metal doors of the lift open, I hesitate a moment before stepping into the transparent room. Devlan didn’t need a way to gain access to the chamber. Sebastian wanted him here.
“Zara—” Devlan shouts.
I exit the lift and rush into the room. Devlan is blocking blows from two knights at once. I start toward his side, but he jerks his head toward the end of the glass chamber. “Sebastian is down there.” He lunges at a knight in crimson, knocking the knight’s sword to the side. “He’s controlling the Taken from Excalibur.” He grunts. “I can’t get in.”
I understand what I must do, but it’s difficult to leave him here to fight. They’re not just members of the Force. These knights were King Hart’s personal guards. They are ruthless.
Devlan swipes at the guard advancing on me, drawing his attention. I slink past, then stagger down through the glass maze. Sebastian has locked himself in the control room, overseeing the fight with the Rebels personally. His actions prove this has gone beyond revenge for him.
I limp toward the end of the chamber, trying to block out the sounds of distress coming from Devlan. As I reach the control room, I pray the knight’s hand will give me access, and that I will not waver, even for a second.
I extend my arm—and the door slides open before I press the hand to the interface.
Sebastian’s golden eyes meet mine. His lips curl into a cruel smile.
I drop the hand to the floor and raise my sword. “Command the Taken to stand down.” I hold his
disarming glare. “Now.”
My eyes sweep over him. Tucked into his black belt is my father’s dagger. My chest blooms with renewed anger. Sebastian pulls his hand from behind his back and strikes my sword with his arming sword.
I wobble, then shift my weight onto my good leg, gaining balance against his attack. He blocks my strike easily. “I had no idea you knew the art of swordplay,” he says. “To think we had so much in common, Zara.” He strikes my sword again, pushing me backward into a retreat. “We could have been dueling instead of taking boring walks.”
Grunting, I come at him and slash. He keeps one hand behind his back as he blocks each of my attacks, mocking me. His form says I’m no threat to him. And I’m not sure I am.