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Authors: Coreene Callahan
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head.
Cosmina flinched. She heard Henrik curse.
“The woman.” The feral growl rolled in on inhuman intonation. “Kill the woman!”
Fear caught at the back of Cosmina’s throat. Recognition sparked. The voice. Oh god s . . . that voice . Without warning, her Seer’s eye expanded. A channel opened inside her mind. One word streamed into her head: Druinguari . Minions to the Prince of Shadows, not Al Pacii assassins at all.
“Cosmina—get behind me.”
Ignoring Henrik’s command, she slid the rest of the way on her knees. Leather trews slipping over marble tiles, eyes on the pictographs, she searched for the keyhole, but—drat and damn. She couldn’t find it. Up close, the lock disappeared into the pattern. Lines looped and crisscrossed. Colorful figures blurred together. Intersections whirled into more. With a curse, hands sliding over stone, Cosmina shuffled sideways—
“Goddamn it. Andrei, Shay,” Henrik yelled, swords flashing as the first wave of Druinguari struck. Steel met steel. The terrible clang rose, washing over the altar as demonic snarls burned away the chill. “Fighting triangle—now!”
Weapons drawn, two warriors slid to a stop beside Henrik.
Cosmina’s fingertips dipped into a round depression in the stone. Her heart throbbed, threatening to pound its way out of her chest. Thank the gods. About blasted time.
Secret keyhol e . . . dead ahead.
Flipping the disc over in her hand, she fit the key into the lock. Something whistled by her head, tearing at her hair. Pain lanced her temple. Blood welled. A thin droplet trickled down the side of her face. She cringed, but refused to acknowledge the nick. Or think too hard about the weapon that had just grazed her. Cosmina turned the key instead. Click by slow click, she counted off each tick. Five to the right. Now, seven to the left. One more number in the combination to go.
Each breath clawing at the back of her throat, Cosmina swiped at the sweat on her brow, then wiped her damp palms on her dirty trews. One more right turn. Just four clicks. Do not hurry. Do it right. She must go slow. Respect the sequence and the timed pauses between each rotation. Otherwise the door wouldn’t open and she wouldn’t make it out of High Temple alive.
CHAPTER FIVE
An arrow whizzed toward his head.
Senses keen, Henrik dodged right. The bolt blew by his ear, ruffling his hair. The razor-sharp tip hammered the wall behind him. A violent crack exploded through the rotunda. Stone dust flew. Cosmina cursed. With a snarl, he launched another arrow. And then three more in quick succession. The enemy scattered, diving behind High Temple’s massive pillars to avoid the lethal volley. Adjusting his stance, he shifted to the left, putting himself between Cosmina and the enemy.
“H—duck,” Andrei growled behind him.
Henrik hit one knee. His comrade launched another assault. The bladed boomerang flew, whirling across the huge chamber. Caught out in the open, an assassin cursed as Andrei’s weapon clipped him. A thin line appeared at the bastard’s throat. A second later his head left his shoulders and fell, thumping into a lopsided roll across the mosaic floor.
Henrik nodded in approval. “Nice.”
“ Merci .” Intense eyes met his. Andrei raised his hand, catching the boomerang as it came back around. “I aim to please.”
“And kill,” Shay said as he palmed his throwing stars.
Henrik snorted and, reaching up and over, stowed his bow in the quiver on his back. His hands found the twin hilts rising above his shoulders. Pushing to his feet, he drew hard, unsheathing his swords. The curved blades flashed in the low light. Aggressive. Efficient. Deadly. Henrik became all three as his comrades spread out, giving him room to work. Staying low, he spun on the balls of his feet. His black cloak whipped in his wake, blurring into a streak that stained the air around him. A dark warning in a holy place, one he barely noticed as the enemy swarmed up
Cosmina flinched. She heard Henrik curse.
“The woman.” The feral growl rolled in on inhuman intonation. “Kill the woman!”
Fear caught at the back of Cosmina’s throat. Recognition sparked. The voice. Oh god s . . . that voice . Without warning, her Seer’s eye expanded. A channel opened inside her mind. One word streamed into her head: Druinguari . Minions to the Prince of Shadows, not Al Pacii assassins at all.
“Cosmina—get behind me.”
Ignoring Henrik’s command, she slid the rest of the way on her knees. Leather trews slipping over marble tiles, eyes on the pictographs, she searched for the keyhole, but—drat and damn. She couldn’t find it. Up close, the lock disappeared into the pattern. Lines looped and crisscrossed. Colorful figures blurred together. Intersections whirled into more. With a curse, hands sliding over stone, Cosmina shuffled sideways—
“Goddamn it. Andrei, Shay,” Henrik yelled, swords flashing as the first wave of Druinguari struck. Steel met steel. The terrible clang rose, washing over the altar as demonic snarls burned away the chill. “Fighting triangle—now!”
Weapons drawn, two warriors slid to a stop beside Henrik.
Cosmina’s fingertips dipped into a round depression in the stone. Her heart throbbed, threatening to pound its way out of her chest. Thank the gods. About blasted time.
Secret keyhol e . . . dead ahead.
Flipping the disc over in her hand, she fit the key into the lock. Something whistled by her head, tearing at her hair. Pain lanced her temple. Blood welled. A thin droplet trickled down the side of her face. She cringed, but refused to acknowledge the nick. Or think too hard about the weapon that had just grazed her. Cosmina turned the key instead. Click by slow click, she counted off each tick. Five to the right. Now, seven to the left. One more number in the combination to go.
Each breath clawing at the back of her throat, Cosmina swiped at the sweat on her brow, then wiped her damp palms on her dirty trews. One more right turn. Just four clicks. Do not hurry. Do it right. She must go slow. Respect the sequence and the timed pauses between each rotation. Otherwise the door wouldn’t open and she wouldn’t make it out of High Temple alive.
CHAPTER FIVE
An arrow whizzed toward his head.
Senses keen, Henrik dodged right. The bolt blew by his ear, ruffling his hair. The razor-sharp tip hammered the wall behind him. A violent crack exploded through the rotunda. Stone dust flew. Cosmina cursed. With a snarl, he launched another arrow. And then three more in quick succession. The enemy scattered, diving behind High Temple’s massive pillars to avoid the lethal volley. Adjusting his stance, he shifted to the left, putting himself between Cosmina and the enemy.
“H—duck,” Andrei growled behind him.
Henrik hit one knee. His comrade launched another assault. The bladed boomerang flew, whirling across the huge chamber. Caught out in the open, an assassin cursed as Andrei’s weapon clipped him. A thin line appeared at the bastard’s throat. A second later his head left his shoulders and fell, thumping into a lopsided roll across the mosaic floor.
Henrik nodded in approval. “Nice.”
“ Merci .” Intense eyes met his. Andrei raised his hand, catching the boomerang as it came back around. “I aim to please.”
“And kill,” Shay said as he palmed his throwing stars.
Henrik snorted and, reaching up and over, stowed his bow in the quiver on his back. His hands found the twin hilts rising above his shoulders. Pushing to his feet, he drew hard, unsheathing his swords. The curved blades flashed in the low light. Aggressive. Efficient. Deadly. Henrik became all three as his comrades spread out, giving him room to work. Staying low, he spun on the balls of his feet. His black cloak whipped in his wake, blurring into a streak that stained the air around him. A dark warning in a holy place, one he barely noticed as the enemy swarmed up
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