Chapter 169: The Crimson Tide [10]
The constant throb in his temples began to ease. The dizziness that had been hovering at the edge of his awareness faded.
Alaric exhaled slowly. "Much better."
His head felt clearer than it had in days. The fog that had been clouding his thoughts lifted slightly.
He stayed there for another few minutes, just breathing, letting the relief settle in.
Then he stood, dropped coins on the table to cover the meal, and headed for the door.
Outside, the sun had fully set. The moon hung in the sky, large, bright, casting silver light across the streets.
Alaric started walking, turned down an alley between two building.
Then suddenly he stopped.
There at the end of the alley stood a hooded figure.
Four bodies lay on the ground at the figure’s feet. Dark stains spreading beneath them, pooling between the cobblestones.
As Alaric watched, the figure reached down and grabbed one of the bodies—a man, broad-shouldered and heavy—and casually tossed it aside like a sack of grain. It hit the wall with a heavy thud.
Then the figure turned slightly. Blade in hand. Moonlight caught the steel.
And their eyes locked with his.
The hell?
Before Alaric could back away, before he could even process what he was seeing, the figure spoke.
"Eliminate the witness." A woman’s voice. Cold and commanding.
Movement erupted from the sides of the alley. Four more figures stepped out from recessed doorways and shadows. All armed.
"Damn it," Alaric muttered.
He spun and ran.
"I swear I didn’t see anything!" he called back over his shoulder, boots pounding against stone. "My lips are sealed! Promise! You guys can continue doing... whatever that was!"
No response. Just the sound of footsteps behind him. Getting closer.
One of them was fast. Too fast.
A blade flashed in his peripheral vision. Alaric threw himself to the side, hit the wall hard with his shoulder. The knife buried itself in the wooden door frame where his head had been a second earlier.
"Fuckers," he gasped.
Heat built in his hands.
Fire crackling across his fingers, but—
"Don’t use any essence techniques."
Maren’s warning slammed through his mind.
Alaric clicked his tongue and forced the fire down. Kept running instead.
The alley stretched ahead. Thirty feet. Twenty.
Almost there—
But the figure dropped from the rooftop and landed directly in his path.
Alaric skidded, trying to stop.
The figure’s arm came up. And something glinted in the moonlight.
A dagger attached to a thin wire. The blade shot forward like a striking snake.
Alaric twisted. The dagger grazed his side, cutting through his shirt. The wire wrapped around his torso once before he grabbed it.
Pain lanced through his palm as the wire bit into his skin.
The figure yanked back hard.
Alaric was pulled forward, stumbling. His free hand shot out and caught the figure’s wrist before they could strike again.
They grappled. The figure was strong. Her knee came up toward his gut.
Alaric turned his hip, took the blow on his thigh instead. Used the momentum to shove her backward into the wall.
The wire went slack. He ripped it off his torso and threw it aside.
Behind him, the other three pursuers were closing in. Ten feet. Five.
Alaric looked at the figure in front of him. At the four behind. The main street beyond the alley that was still too far away.
No way forward. No way back.
He feinted left. The figure in front moved to block—
Alaric went right instead. Slammed his shoulder into a wooden crate stacked against the wall. It crashed down, spilling rotted vegetables across the alley floor.
Not much of an obstacle, but enough.
He vaulted over it and kept running. Deeper into the maze of backstreets and alleys that spider-webbed through this district.
The pursuers followed. Their footsteps echoed off the narrow walls.
Alaric turned a corner. Then another. The buildings here were older, more cramped. Laundry lines stretched between upper windows. Trash piled in corners.
He needed to get out of this mess. Without city guards hearing the commotion and making this even more complicated.
Ahead, the buildings thinned. He caught a glimpse of open space, the old eastern gardens. Half-abandoned, overgrown, sitting on the edge where the capital met the forest beyond.
Perfect.
Alaric pushed harder. His lungs burned. The cut on his side throbbed. But he made it to the gardens.
The forest loomed ahead. He crashed through the underbrush, branches whipping at his face and arms.
Then suddenly—
The air changed.
Essence crackled across his skin.
A translucent dome materialized around him. Shimmering. Sealing a circular area maybe fifty feet across. Trees on all sides, but the barrier cut through them, trapping him inside.
Alaric skidded to a stop.
Shit.
The four pursuers entered the dome before it fully solidified. The woman who’d spoken before walked in last, unhurried.
Her hood had fallen back slightly revealing her dark hair and sharp features, which gleamed under the moonlight filtering through the canopy.
They spread out. Surrounding him. Weapons drawn.
"Nowhere to run now," one of them said.
Alaric’s hands clenched.
They moved as one.
Alaric met the first one with a punch that cracked against the man’s jaw. Grabbed his arm, twisted—
The second was already there. Blade flashing.
Alaric jerked back. The knife opened a line across his forearm. Shallow but painful.
Third attacker from behind. Alaric spun, got his arm up to block.
But he wasn’t fast enough.
The blade punched into his shoulder. Not deep, but enough to make his arm go weak.
He staggered. Blood running down his side and arm. Making him breathe hard.
The woman stepped forward. She moved differently than the others. Smoother. More efficient.
Alaric tried to dodge. But his body wouldn’t respond fast enough. Her blade came in low and fast.
Buried itself in his stomach.
Sharp pain bloomed in his torso.
"ARGH!"
Alaric’s breath left him in a choked gasp.
His hands grabbed at her wrist, trying to stop her from twisting the blade.
She leaned in close. And whispered.
"Nothing personal, boy. You shouldn’t have seen us." Her voice was almost apologetic.
Then suddenly, Alaric’s grip tightened on her wrist.
His other hand found her forearm.
Blood filled his mouth. He swallowed it down.
"Same here," he rasped.
Then his eyes flashed crimson.
And...
BOOM!