Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(47)
The assassins weren’t here to kill me—they were here to murder Serilda.
*
For a split second, confusion filled me. I was so used to assassins trying to eliminate me that it hadn’t occurred to me that my friend could be a target too. Then my mind kicked back into gear.
“Serilda!” I screamed. “Look out!”
I hadn’t even finished speaking before Serilda drew her sword, whirled around, and sliced her blade across the chest of one of the men creeping up behind her. That man screamed and tumbled to the ground, but Serilda was already spinning around to face the next assassin.
I yanked my sword free of its scabbard and charged in that direction.
“Evie!” Paloma shouted behind me. “Evie! Wait!”
But I couldn’t—wouldn’t—wait. I had to help Serilda.
One of the assassins was stationed behind a cart filled with paper bags of cornucopia, and he rushed around it and raised his sword high, determined to bring it down on top of Serilda’s head. She was engaged with another fighter, so instead of shouting a second warning, I threw myself into the space between Serilda and the assassin.
His sword clanged into mine, and a familiar sulfuric stench wafted off the metal. My nose twitched. His blade was coated with wormroot poison. These people weren’t messing around, and they definitely wanted Serilda dead.
The assassin growled and drew his sword back for another strike, but I moved to the side and tripped him. The man stumbled past me, and I spun around, lifted my sword, and sliced my weapon across his back, all in one smooth move.
That man fell to the ground screaming, and I stepped up and drove my blade into his neck. He screamed again, then went limp. I growled, yanked my sword free, and turned to find a new enemy to fight.
Most of the assassins continued to focus on Serilda, but some of the others rushed over and engaged Paloma, Sullivan, and Auster. My friends drew their own weapons, and the harsh clash, clang, and bang-bang-bang of metal hitting metal rang across the plaza like bells pealing together.
People screamed and staggered back, not sure what was happening. Merchants hunkered down behind their carts, shoppers dropped their bags, and parents grabbed their children and pulled them close. Fresh oranges, toy balls, and other goods hit the cobblestones and rolled every which way like marbles, and more than a few folks slipped on them in their panic, crashing into some of the carts and sending even more merchandise flying through the air and then raining down onto the ground.
“The queen!” I heard someone yell in the distance. “We have to get back to Queen Everleigh!”
The Bellonan guards who had been scouting up ahead must have seen the chaos, although I doubted they would be able to force their way through the crowd before the fight was decided—one way or another.
Two female assassins peeled off from the group surrounding Serilda and charged in my direction. One was a magier, who threw a ball of fire at me, while the other was a morph, who shifted into a fearsome ogre with jagged teeth and sharp talons. I avoided the fireball, which exploded against the front of the cornucopia cart. The magier’s fire instantly ignited the paper bags, and the smell of charred corn and burned sugar clouded the air, along with smoke from the smoldering cart.
I headed toward the magier, but the ogre swiped out at me, and I had to lurch back to avoid her razor-sharp talons.
Merchants, shoppers, parents, and children were still screaming and running around the plaza, but they had all gotten away from the center of the fight. I spotted several DiLucri guards dressed in brown tunics mixed in with the crowd, but they held their positions, letting people run past them, instead of rushing forward to try to break up the battle. No doubt Driscol had told his guards not to intervene in the assassination attempt on Serilda.
I thought of how Driscol had been whispering to Maximus right before the Mortan king had left the terrace. So this was what they’d been plotting. Driscol must have noticed Serilda slipping away from the Bellonan entourage in the arena earlier and realized that she was the one who’d fired that arrow at Maximus. But instead of attacking me, Maximus had decided to hurt my friend, even though Serilda had only been following my orders. Anger once again twisted my stomach, along with more than a little guilt. I should have been the king’s target, not Serilda.
The ogre morph snarled and came at me again, although I managed to sidestep her a second time. The ogre ran right past me and plowed into the still-smoldering cornucopia cart. The wood splintered apart at the brutal impact, and red-hot embers shot into the air like fireworks. The ogre screamed with rage and used her long black talons to rip apart what was left of the cart.
If she had been a regular mortal, I would have charged forward and sliced my sword across whatever part of her I could reach. But I wasn’t nearly as strong as the morph, who could easily crush my skull like a ripe melon, and I couldn’t let her put her hands on me. One sharp wrench or vicious pop, and I would be dead.
The stench of magic filled my nose, and another ball of fire streaked toward me. I dodged this blast just like I had the first one, and the fire hurtled through the air and exploded against the stone railing that cordoned off the plaza from the water below. People screamed and stumbled even farther away from the fight.
I whirled back around to the magier, who screamed with frustration and summoned up another ball of fire. A few feet away, the ogre morph waded through the still-smoking remains of the cornucopia cart, heading toward me again.