Song of Blood & Stone (Earthsinger Chronicles #1)(17)

She screamed a war cry and lashed out again, but a hand pinned her arm like a vise before the knife met its target. A blow to her face rattled her senses before her legs were pinned, as well. She kicked and flailed with all her strength, but it felt like immovable rocks held her in place.

Ginko clutched her legs, nudging her nightgown up. Near her head, Fahl still pulled at himself futilely.

“Perhaps this will go better if I stuff it down your throat,” he said, releasing her arms to grab her hair and tilt her head back toward him. His grip was tight enough to make her vision blur, but she focused on her newly freed hands. A little closer and she’d be able to reach the two sensitive sacks behind his drooping manhood. She would rip off whatever she touched and bite off anything that came near her lips.

As Fahl drew closer and Ginko’s hands slid toward her panties, the back door crashed open. All movement stilled. Through watery eyes, she saw Jack standing in the doorway, the knife she’d hidden for him in his hand, his restraints dangling from one wrist. He leaped across the room and tackled Fahl, plunging the knife deep into the man’s belly. Ginko sprang away.

Jasminda crawled off the table and dropped to the ground. She blinked, clearing her vision, and rose to see Jack duck Ginko’s wide punch. The swing threw the soldier off-balance. He wobbled until Jack landed a vicious, crunching kick. Ginko crumpled, hitting his head with a loud crack on the kitchen counter before falling to the floor. Blood pooled around his head and he stared upward, unseeing.

Fahl, knife still lodged in his belly, had been leaning against the opposite counter, but when Ginko fell, he rushed Jack with a new burst of strength. He grasped Jack in a bear hug and wrapped his hands around Jack’s throat, squeezing. Jasminda screamed and ran toward the hulking man, climbing on his back. The fingers of one hand sunk deep into his greasy hair as she pulled back his head, then in one swift motion slit the man’s throat with the other, just as she’d do with a goat.

She jumped back and he fell, blood spurting everywhere, covering Jack with its spray. Heaving for breath, she barely registered a new presence in the room until it was gone.

“Wargi!” she said, taking off after him. Jack followed on her heels as she entered her parents’ old bedroom.

Wargi stood over the sergeant’s prone body, sprawled across her parents’ bed. His eyes, wide and wild, focused on the bloody knife in her grip. He shook with fear and made little hiccupping sounds. This boy was too young to have been in combat. Had he seen a man die before?

The weight of what she’d done hit her. She’d just killed a man. Wargi looked ready to vomit, and Jasminda felt the same. She released the knife from her shaking hand. It clattered to the floor, and she eased toward the boy, trying to appear as nonthreatening as she could while covered in blood.

“You know they were monsters, right?” she whispered.

Wargi’s gaze darted from the sergeant’s barely moving form, to Jasminda, to the doorway behind her, where she could feel Jack’s presence.

For all the blood and death that had just taken place, the house was eerily quiet, its hush broken occasionally by soft snores from the passed-out soldiers in the room next door. The dowry liquor was a powerful blend. She wondered idly if the dead soldiers had made sure the others drank more, to ensure there would be no interruptions.

“Wargi, I . . . I don’t want to hurt you. Just . . . just let him leave.” She motioned toward Jack. “You were on patrol by yourself, right? You could say you were far away when this happened.”

The young soldier’s eyes glazed over for a moment as he seemed to consider what Jasminda was saying. The furrow of his brow as he thought reminded her so much of her brothers. His shoulders slumped, and she was close to inhaling in relief when he focused on Jack again and narrowed his eyes. His back straightened, expression hardened. Jasminda sank into herself when he moved to the sergeant and began to shake him.

Jack stepped around her, pointing his knife at Wargi. “Sit down,” he said, his voice a forceful command. Covered in blood, he looked every bit the warrior he was. Wargi backed up a step, the moment of bravado gone, then collapsed onto the ground. The sergeant groaned and shifted, rolling over on the bed and rubbing his face.

“Jasminda, gather their weapons,” Jack said.

She scanned the room and found two service revolvers on the dresser. She checked the chambers, pulled back the hammers, then handed one to Jack. The men had arrived with rifles, as well, but had spent what little ammunition they had firing at birds in the valley earlier.

Tensyn sat up, bleary-eyed. Long moments passed before he processed what was before him. He sputtered, his face contorting in rage as Jasminda aimed the gun at him.

“Traitors.” The word was laced with venom.

Holding the gun steady, Jasminda cast a glance to Jack. “What now?”

He pointed to Tensyn. "On the ground." The sergeant complied with a sneer.

Jasminda backed up to the corner so she could see both Jack and the door to the room.

With remarkable efficiency, Jack stripped the bedsheets, ripping them into ribbons as Tensyn seethed and spat curses.

“Are you going to make this difficult?” Jack said, kneeling and pulling the sergeant’s hands behind his back. He was securing the man's wrists with the strips of cloth when suddenly Tensyn gave a shriek, shot to his feet, and ran directly at Jasminda. His wild, desperate look froze her in place, her finger hovering on the trigger.