Master of Iron (Bladesmith #2)(15)

“You can tell us all about your stay later,” I say. “Right now, there is someone who needs your help.”

Serutha doesn’t resist. She pads barefoot beside me, my hand on her arm to steer her in the right direction.

“How did you find my room?” she asks. “It was hidden. Magicked.”

“We guessed,” Petrik answers.

“Where are the guards?”

“One of our companions is dealing with them.”

“You sacrificed him for me? Skiro must be truly desperate.”

“We sacrificed no one,” I say. “He’s very capable. Now hurry. We have to get you through the wardrobe.”

The healer’s doubt suddenly turns to hope. “You’re really going to get me out of here.”

“Yes,” I assure her.

“All right.”

Our pace picks up. We race past confused servants who don’t recognize us, and we only make it halfway down the hall when an alarm sounds—large bells tolling from far overhead.

They know she’s gone.

We sprint for the next staircase, skipping steps, racing for the top. Back down a level, I hear an uproar go through the servants. Someone shouts, “That way!”

We’re being followed.

My legs burn. Serutha is slower without shoes on the hard floor. But I don’t have time to think of her comfort. Temra doesn’t have time. Kellyn doesn’t have time.

When we finally reach the attic, I’m ready to collapse, but I shuffle along the floor, trying to find the broken door.

“Here!” Petrik exclaims, shoving it aside, not bothering to place it back over. Speed is our number one concern now.

We grab our weapons before weaving through the dark, trying to find the damned wardrobe.

Serutha winces as she steps on broken glass from the frame I stepped on earlier. I pick her up in one motion, try to retrace my steps.

“Ow,” she says as she bumps into something. Or rather, I bump her into something.

I don’t apologize.

“It’s here, Ziva,” Petrik says. He throws open the wardrobe. Steps sound back out in the hall, growing closer.

Serutha eyes the painting, but she must already know what it is. She says, “Thank you.”

“Just save my sister, please.”

Serutha stands on the toes of one foot to account for the glass and steps into the wardrobe and through the portrait.

I turn around, eyeing the way we came.

“What are you doing?” Petrik asks. “We have to go.”

“Where is Kellyn?”

“You don’t know?” His voice softens, but the question is still infuriating.

“How would I know, Petrik? He disappeared from both our sights ten minutes ago!”

“Ziva, he’s not coming back.”

“What?”

“He was the distraction so we could save Temra. They’ll have caught him by now.”

“No! He’s a master swordsman. He said he’d meet us here.”

No, that’s not true. He said not to wait for him. And then he kissed me … as if to say goodbye.

“Oh Twins,” I whisper.

“They’re coming, Ziva. We have to go. Temra needs you.”

Petrik steps through the wardrobe.

But I pause. Yes, Temra needs me. She’s hurt and dying … But Serutha is the only one who can save her now. I can’t do anything more for her as far as her health is concerned.

And Kellyn—

Why would he do this? Stupid man! Stupid me for not realizing—

Guards pool into the room. One spots me, yells to the others.

It’s now or never, Ziva.

I pull my hammer free. Prepare to step into the wardrobe.

No.

I’m not leaving him.

Instead, I step to the back of the wardrobe. Just on the other side of this wood, a picture of the feared Prince Ravis is painted.

I raise my hammer.

And I shatter the portrait.





CHAPTER FIVE


I fell seven guards before I realize there’s no way I’m going to fight my way out. They fall so quickly beneath my shield and hammer. Unlike Kymora’s men, these aren’t prepared for my magical weapon. Skin splits beneath my right hammer, and blood flies into my eyes.

I’m a creator, not a killer. I’ve spent my life forging steel for others, yet here I am, fighting with weapons that have seen enough battle that they deserve names.

I don’t want to kill these men and women. They’re only following orders. Only trying to fulfill a job. It’s not their fault Ravis ended up ruling their territory, and I don’t fault them for making a living by serving him.

But I will do what it takes to find Kellyn and get the hells out of this place.

I need to see for myself if we got Serutha to Temra in time.

But first I need to find that oaf of a mercenary. That self-sacrificing pig. That imbecilic—



* * *



I only experience a few seconds of disorientation when I gain consciousness in an unfamiliar place, the back of my head throbbing like a beating drum.

I’m in a cell in Ravis’s castle.

We got Serutha through the portal.

And Kellyn—

“This is the second time you’ve gotten me locked up,” a voice says.