Shadow Run (Kaitan Chronicles #1)

There was also no chance of me helping whoever was trapped on the opposite sides of the many doors we passed. They were people with Shadow affinities from other planets, perhaps insane or only weak, who’d no doubt been tortured like Arjan. And yet I had to leave them. I could barely walk, let alone break them free.

At least no other guards seemed to be coming. Maybe we’d killed them all. There were too many corpses already, and we seemed to be dragging them with us. Out of the corner of my eye, whenever I turned, I could see half-faced Rubion and the two Bladeguards, one burned and the other trailing brains, clawing along the floor behind.

“Basra,” I breathed at one point, “are those bodies following us?”

He cast a glance over his shoulder. “No, Captain.”

I would have laughed that one of the richest, most powerful people in the galaxy was still using my formal title now that I knew his, but I had other things on my mind. Or rather, nightmares from out of my mind, come to haunt me.

“I can hear them,” I said. “I can see them. The walls are collapsing.”

Basra’s wary eyes were on me, now. “You can do this. Just a little bit farther.”

I almost laughed in despair then, but the sound died in my throat. Because he was right. We rounded another corner, and the massive, ruined space of the hangar opened around us with the late red sunlight filtering through the cavernous hole we’d torn. But if I’d hoped we’d left the nightmarish scene behind, I had been wrong.

Near the battered, hulking shape of the Kaitan, Nev stood over Eton. Eton was on the ground, holding his leg in a puddle of blood. Blood was all around them. Nev was still for the moment, chest and shoulders heaving, swords held out in either hand. His jacket was in tatters, his arms covered in dripping cuts.

Around both Nev and Eton, dozens of bodies lay sprawled and twisted, radiating out as if the two of them were bombs that had detonated.

At least they were still alive, though they looked nearly as finished as Basra, Arjan, and I were. But then I heard the unmistakable pounding of boots from the opposite end of the hangar.

Armor and weaponry glinted in the bloody sunlight, and I heard the shouts for us to put down our arms. None of us listened. Nev raised his blades and Basra his rifle, leaving me to support Arjan. Even Eton fumbled for a gun with sticky red hands, and Telu appeared on the ramp with a pistol in one hand and a knife in the other.

She waved for me to hurry toward the ship, but I couldn’t abandon the others like this. Besides, I didn’t think I could carry Arjan all that way on my own. I tried to reach for the last of the Shadow still lurking in the caches below, but it slipped away from me. So did my balance. I slid to the floor, dragging Arjan with me.

I couldn’t help my gasp. “I can’t. I can’t.” I closed my eyes. I didn’t try to seize the Shadow again, or force it away like I usually did. I simply surrendered.

Lights danced in the darkness behind my lids, and I thought I heard whispering—beckoning me to oblivion.





Tired. I should have been feeling pain, or fear, or anger. And I suppose I did, but I simply felt more tired than anything else.

As the first two of the newly arrived Bladeguards reached me, we engaged in a rapid-fire series of cuts and thrusts, my blades working in a defensive pattern to keep them occupied and at a distance. We engaged and disengaged, clashed and retreated twice. It would have been just another day at the Academy if they hadn’t been significantly better than most of the students there—and drawing blood. They were willing to hurt me, but none of the wounds were serious.

It was the realization that they wouldn’t kill me that set the exhaustion rolling in as we parted, circling.

What’s the point? I wondered. How was I supposed to fight and kill someone who refused to kill me? My heart could never be in that, any more than it could be in torturing people for our gain. It’s impossible, anyway. There are too many of them to do anything. That rational thought intruded as the exhaustion set in further.

“How about you gentlemen put your weapons down,” I suggested, “and we discuss some more attractive options? I don’t want to hurt you.”

They didn’t answer. One kept his blade at cross angles to me, and I realized they had been maneuvering me so one of them could get closer to Eton.

They don’t have to hurt me to kill everyone else. Anger flared somewhere deep in my chest. It wasn’t about me; it never should have been. I wasn’t defending myself, I was defending my friends, who at no point had done anything to deserve any of this. My exhaustion vanished.

Clarity descended upon me. I brought both blades together in the fastest spin of my life, and the Bladeguard nearest Eton lost his head. A moment later, the body toppled.

I’d made the choice to fight against my family before, but now it was time to defend family. Not my royal family, but the one that needed me most.

“Run,” I snarled, strength coursing through every fiber of my being.

The Bladeguard nearest me did not flee. He swung his blade at my legs in what was meant to be a debilitating slash.

I spun again, blocking it with both swords, and kicked him in the helmet, staggering him. This time, I didn’t hesitate, and he lost both hands for his effort. Nor did I stop to see what else happened to him. I ran, blades out to my sides, straight at the next enemy.

When I had been four, my father had taught me how to punch. When I had been five, I began to train with a blade. When I had been thirteen, I fought off my first group under the tutelage of Devrak.

There are four principles to fighting multiple assailants, Nev: First, control your environment.

The guards might at some point choose to fight me with deadly force for survival, but I would never be the priority target—that was everyone on the Kaitan. I had to keep the attention of eleven attackers on me long enough to let the others board the ship and make their escape.

“I’m coming for you!” I shouted at the door, where their commander had been. “You’re going down, along with this entire hangar!” A bluff, but then, I had been taught how to manipulate by my mother from my earliest years. These were the Home Guard, defenders, and I was threatening their leader with destructive force.

Their reaction exceeded my wildest hopes; they converged on me in a swarm as I charged. In seconds, they would overwhelm me.

Second, become the unexpected. At the last possible moment, and at a dead run, I fell to my knees in front of them, letting their blades whistle over my head. As I slid under them, I brought my twin swords in sweeping arcs to either side.

The edge of my blades caught, cutting armor and slicing flesh. Wounded, but still mobile, Bladeguards leapt away from my attack. I rolled onto my feet and was upon them.

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