“To hell with Crawley,” the other rebel snarled. “I’m not hanging around here to get blasted into ash while we wait for permission.”
The leader remained silent, but Arcturus knew the man was calculating the odds. He could almost hear the strings creaking on the crossbows, ready to whip steel-tipped death into his body.
Behind, Sacharissa’s growling intensified, and Arcturus sensed that she was crouched in shadow beyond the door. Even an order from Arcturus would not quell the noise. Her message was clear. Kill Arcturus and she would tear the rebels apart.
The throbbing of his neck wound grew with the quickening of his pulse. In the corner of his eye, he could see Ulfr had reached the cart where Edmund remained unconscious. Gelert lay prone beside the boy, and a slim shred of hope fluttered as Arcturus watched the dwarf draw his knife and begin sawing silently at the demon’s bonds, all out of sight of the three guards.
Still, the crossbowmen would fill him full of bolts before either Sacharissa or Gelert got to them, especially now that both were injured. Ulfr might have the chance to help his friends escape, but either way, Arcturus would be dead. He did not see an outcome that had a happy ending.
His only chance was that they missed, but that was not likely at such close range. So he would have to dive aside at the right moment and hope for the best.
“I’ll take the boy; you take the demon,” the leader growled.
And fired.
Arcturus tumbled backward. Saw the wooden shaft halfway protruding from his stomach, felt the numbness of shock in his mind and the sudden piercing pain in his center.
Sacharissa. He held her still, though it took every ounce of control he could muster, as his body straddled hers in the confusion of the sudden attack.
The crossbows thrummed, one clattering against the wall, another thudding through his shoulder and pinning him to his beloved demon’s side. She whimpered, but obeyed his command not to attack, even as he lay dying in the shadow of the doorway, the blood pooling in his lap while he grasped the shaft with his hands.
The rebels stared at Arcturus, as if they could not believe what they had done. To his left, Arcturus could make out Gelert, scrambling across the floor, but Ulfr had not had time to free the Canid of his bonds.
“Run,” Arcturus choked, and his consciousness wrenched as Sacharissa was forced to turn tail and disappear into the gloom of the corridors. With any luck, he would die soon and she would give in to the ether’s call, fading back into her world before the rebels could hunt her down and kill her.
He sensed her anguish, but he felt a calm fall over him that stiffened his resolve. They could do no more to him now. He had done his duty.
“Load!” screamed the leader, his hands scrabbling to place another crossbow bolt in its firing slot. The remaining rebels had drawn their swords and advanced on Gelert as the demon snapped and snarled, wriggling as his bonds restricted him to dragging himself forward with a single claw. Within moments they would chop him to pieces.
Blue, bright as a flash of lightning, streaked across Arcturus’s vision. The leader, his crossbow half-raised, seemed to shudder, then erupted in a sizzling wreath of flashing, jagged energy. Beside him, the other two rebels twitched and jerked on the floor, consumed by the same brilliant light. Their bodies smoked, and the room filled with the acrid stench of cooking hair and flesh.
Even as the edges of his vision darkened, Arcturus could see the source of the spell, sitting up in his cart, face twisted in a snarl of anger.
Edmund had awakened.
CHAPTER
46
HE HEARD THE WEEPING first. Deep, sniffling sobs and wails, and the sound of hushed shushing from the others.
“He’s dead,” Zacharias’s voice said. “Just leave him—we need to bar the doors.”
“We’re not giving up on him,” Elaine cried, and Arcturus could feel the cool, dainty hands that clasped his own, and the cold of the cobblestones against the bare skin of his back.
He opened his eyes. Elaine’s and Alice’s faces hovered above him, creased with concern.
“He’s alive!” Elaine gasped, her pale face streaked with tears.
She hugged him close, and Arcturus braced himself for the pain from his stomach. But there was none, nor any from the wounds on his neck.
“What happened?” Arcturus asked. His voice came out in no more than a whisper. Elaine released him, and he half sat up. Even that effort was a struggle, so Alice helped him with a gentle arm. He felt as weak as a newborn lamb.
“Ulfr cut Edmund’s hands free,” Alice answered, smiling through glistening eyes. “He was faking unconsciousness, waiting for his moment.”
“Lucky,” Arcturus managed.
The room was bright from the light of a half-dozen torches. Josephine was sitting in the corner of the room, her knees clutched to her chest, and Zacharias was pacing in front of her, his eyes wild with panic.
Prince Harold and Edmund stood beside Arcturus, though Edmund looked as weak as Arcturus felt; his face was even paler than usual and his eyes were deeply ringed with dark circles.
“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you,” Alice said, her voice cracking with emotion. “You almost died for us. I’ll never doubt you again.”
Arcturus looked down at his body, where the crusted red-brown blood had dried against his upper chest and stomach. There were no wounds, and now he realized that Edmund had stopped him from dying with a healing spell.
He tried to stand, but a sudden rush of dizziness took him, and he fell to one knee. Elaine helped him to his feet and he gave her a weak smile.
“You lost a lot of blood,” Edmund croaked from beside him. “It took me a while to get to you.”
“A hell of a lot,” Prince Harold said, and now Arcturus could see he was holding Edmund up, just as Elaine was doing with him.
Edmund’s eyes were unfocused, and his breathing seemed labored. Even though he was awake, he needed a doctor, and soon.
“Don’t ever do that again,” Elaine said, giving Arcturus a soft punch on the arm.
Arcturus looked for Sacharissa, and in his mind he could sense her running back, realizing he was safe. She was furious at him for forcing her away from him, but her relief was so palpable that Arcturus found himself grinning stupidly.
“Thank you,” Arcturus said, clasping Edmund’s limp hand. “You saved my life.”
“Yes, yes,” Zacharias snapped, ceasing his pacing to glare at them. “We’re all so glad you’re alive, Arcturus. But you’ve not saved us yet. There are a few hundred damned rebels between us and the front doors, and even if we manage to get out of here, their horsemen will catch up to us long before we reach Corcillum.”
Arcturus looked to Prince Harold, and the prince nodded reluctantly.
“We’re between a rock and a hard place,” he said. “Even Ulfr doesn’t know what to do.”
He motioned with his head over his shoulder, where Arcturus could see the dwarf sitting on Edmund’s cart, his face dark and brooding. Beneath him, Gelert was curled up, his dark eyes focused on his master.
“With our spells and demons and these tight corridors, we might just manage to fight them off,” Arcturus said, thinking aloud. “Maybe we don’t need to leave at all. At least, not until your parents rescue us. They could fly the Celestial Corps in, blast a hole through the walls.”
“No spells,” Alice said, shaking her head. “They drained us when we came in here.”
“Drained you?” Arcturus asked.
“They used a charging stone on us,” Prince Harold said, lowering Edmund to the ground. The young noble groaned with pain and closed his eyes.
“It’s a bit like a fulfilmeter,” Alice explained. “When you press one onto a summoner’s skin, it absorbs and stores the mana within itself to be used later. They forced us to fill it with our mana. We’re just lucky they didn’t do it to Edmund—he was so weak they were worried it might kill him.”
“So nobody has any mana left,” Arcturus groaned. “We’re—”