The reek of Forbidden magic stung Thealos’ nose, bringing tears to his eyes. It seethed from the dagger. He should have noticed it approaching the cell, but the scent of Ballinaire passing through the tunnels still lingered in the air. Secrist’s eyes locked on his, his mouth tightening into a snarl.
Ticastasy wiped her mouth, watching Secrist with naked fear on her face. He didn’t even look at her. He stared at Thealos.
“Shaden,” he said, swinging the cell door open with a rusty groan. There was an intensity in his eyes that was unnatural, a self-feeding hate that drained the color from his cheeks. The stench of Forbidden magic entered the cell even more strongly. Thealos looked at the grainy textured knife blade. His skin shivered.
Ticastasy regained some of her composure and reached under her skirt, producing a dagger from her other boot.
“No,” Thealos said, holding up his hand to stop her. He backed away from the wall and watched as Secrist followed his movements. Fear threatened to overcome him, but he swallowed it down. One touch from the blade – one slice in the skin and he would die. He knew what it was, even though he’d never seen Deathbane before. He wished he were a Sleepwalker. But he wasn’t, and wishing for it wouldn’t change anything. He retreated several steps back into the cell, grabbing Ticastasy by the arm and pulling her behind him.
“Take this,” she said, trying to give him the dagger.
Secrist lunged.
Thealos nearly screamed as the Kiran Thall slashed at him with the dagger. Ticastasy gasped, but Thealos managed to grab the Kiran Thall’s forearm with both hands. Some flicker of thought went through his mind, faster than his own reflexes. Even though he was separated from the blade of Jade-Shayler, he felt a remnant of the magic still inside him. A Crimson Wolfsman’s training – just enough to save his life. They both went down, arms and legs thrashing as Secrist jerked and heaved to break free of Thealos’ grip. Twisting, Thealos tried to throw the man off of him, but he was too heavy.
Suddenly, Secrist arched in pain as Ticastasy drove her dagger into his back. Thealos saw a mess of chewed roots in Secrist’s mouth, its juice dribbling down his chin. With his other hand, he reached back and pulled the dagger from his back.
“You bloody rook!” he roared, his body convulsing. Thealos watched his eyes glaze over in ecstasy. He was chewing Everoot. Thealos inhaled the honey-sweet smell from his mouth. He was thick with it. The Everoot was part of him now, a craving he couldn’t quit. Thealos recognized it at once and knew that the magic had overwhelmed him.
Secrist’s eyes went wild. Staring at the bloodied dagger in his hand, he looked down at Thealos. Then drove it down towards Thealos’ throat.
Thealos bucked and shoved Secrist off of him. Ticastasy landed a kick to his ribs, but the soldier hardly grunted. Straightening, he pounced at Thealos again, both daggers whipping around. Thealos dove to the left, into the cell’s cramped corner, trying to keep away from the attack. His mind whirled furiously. How long could he dodge Secrist’s thrusts? He needed a weapon. He needed his Silvan sword, but the Sorian had destroyed it.
“I’ll kill you!” Secrist swore, his voice slurred and thick. “I’ll bloody kill you all!”
There was no reasoning with him. No logic to call on. Something was driving the Kiran Thall, pushing him to the fringes of reason and then a few steps further. The madness gave him strength, but it also clouded him. Thealos sidestepped to the right, not wanting to get trapped in the corner. If they could make it to the door and lock him in …
Thealos sidestepped the thrust and nearly went down. Secrist was still quick. Having missed the Shae with the dagger, he slammed his elbow into Thealos’ throat. It hurt like fury, but Thealos grabbed the man’s arm and shoved him back, trying to win more space between them.
Sturnin heaved Secrist off his feet, his arms twisting one of the iron chains around the Kiran Thall’s throat.
As the knight and the soldier whirled and wrestled, Ticastasy pulled Thealos toward the cell door. Her quick thinking had saved him again. The manacles no longer encumbered the knight, but he used the chains as a rope and slung it around Secrist’s throat, slowly twisting it closed around his neck. The Kiran Thall jerked in spasms and cut wildly in the air. He still had Tica’s dagger in his hand, and he struck the knight in the chest twice. Sturnin winced, but held his forearm over the chain, hoisting Secrist backwards, trying to snap his spine and choke him.