Sephania
The night has turned into a violent mess, the ground slick with blood and mud and screaming faces. We expected nothing less, yet being in the press of battle and a fight for your life is always harder when you’re in the thick of it rather than thinking about it.
I watched the leader of the Gilded Ghosts go down in the first charge out of the mines, an arrow lodged in her throat, blood spurting from her lips and neck. Seeing her limp form get trampled by other miners was even worse. Hopefully she was dead by that point.
Lukain and Skartovius fight near me, which makes me feel safer. Off in the distance, I saw Vallan rip a woman with a bow in half, when she had been ready to shoot me after taking down Kimera. It seems the big brute’s bloodsight is working as intended.
All around us, interfolk who still work the North Mines stand back in disbelief, wielding their pickaxes and shovels in case anyone comes too close to them. They huddle together, groups of scared miners whimpering into the corners of the battlefield.
I briefly see Vall get into a scuffle with Cordea around the other side of the mine’s entrance. I’m left wondering how that’s going when figures take up space all around me and block my view.
I can’t wonder for long, because the wave of bodies turns into a wave of shrieking rebels pushing me forward. I’m forced togo along with them or else risk getting trampled underfoot like Kimera.
Despite being in the open now, out of the caves, I don’t have a lot of room to use my two swords. The ex-miners aren’t natural fighters, and it shows. They stay near each other, shoulder to shoulder, rather than spreading out for tactical advantage.
Due to their closeness, I watch three of them get cut down in rapid succession by a single vampire guard, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m too far, and even as I’m running toward them their limbs are flying off and blood rains as the vampire mows them down.
I crash into the vampire after his deed is finished, slicing into his shoulder and forcing him upright. He spins, slashing at me with a handaxe, and I bob to the left.
He attacks fast, trained for this, and I’m pushed back, catching his blade with my off-hand and turning him aside. His shield rises and there’s no way around it—I have to get to the side of him to have any hope, but there are too many flailing bodies around me.
Gritting my teeth, I propel forward desperately. He hacks at me, baring his fangs, and I notice the badge of the Military Ward on his lapel.One of Barnabac’s men, when he was still alive. Now controlled by Aramastun.
Which means Aramastunhasseemingly occupied the silver mines and knows this battle is happening. That doesn’t bode well for us.
As I parry another vicious slash from the vampire, I call over my shoulder. “Ghosts, get to the silver, leave the fighting to us!”
Yes, the vampires have three times the number of me, Vallan, Garroway, Lukain, and Skar. I still feel more comfortable fighting alongside them, outnumbered, than I do in this chaotic melee with no end in sight.
After seeing their comrades promptly cut down, it doesn’t take much coaxing to get the Gilded Ghosts to flee. Long hair whips in the wind and boots scuttle on the grimy ground as they scatter in multiple directions.
A vampire tries to chase down a trio of miners and runs into Skartovius blocking his path. The nobleblood keeps him at bay until the rebels are gone, vying for his defensive fencing posture and utterly frustrating the enraged vampire guard.
I hear a quick clashing of swords, the rasping of steel, then the grunting of pain. When I parry my attacker and glance over, Skar’s sword is sticking out the vampire’s back. My mate slides the limp body—pierced expertly through the chest—off his blade and then comes running toward me.
Skar is coming in from behind my attacker. I realize I don’t need to get to my enemy’s side anymore, I just need to distract him long enough for Skar to get here.
The guard on me swings wildly, feeling the pressure growing around him, and the loss of his soldier friends nearby. We’ve taken this section of the mines and other vampires are retreating or trying to run down the Gilded Ghosts. It’s complete madness.
The short-haired bloodsucker spins his axe and tries to bury it in my chest. I sidestep, lash out with my elbow, and crunch his nose. His head snaps back and before he can recover I cut into his wrist.
The vampire drops his blade but crouches and manages to swoop it up with his good hand in an impressive display before it hits the ground. He uppercuts with the axe and I push both my swords down in an X to meet his attack, finding no time to dodge.
The blow forces my blades apart and I stumble back. He charges in, gleeful death in his red eyes, my guard open and vulnerable—
As spits blood from his open mouth from Skar’s sword sinking into the back of his neck. The vampire croaks, turns to fend off against his new attacker—
Giving me a perfect opening to jam my blade into his back, through his lung, pull out, and then stab him again in the heart. The jarring of his bones against my sword runs through my arms and makes me shiver.
The vampire drops. Skar frowns at me, I blow him a kiss, and then we’re off toward the next pocket of fighting.
Here, Lukain is having it out with two soldiers. A third one lies in a pile of burning flesh and bone, black smoke wafting into the sky from Lukain wounding him with the silver saber. Now he’s in trouble against two other skilled soldiers.
Skar gets to him first, flying in, and I’m right behind—
Before my world tumbles, the sky turns into the ground, and I’m being flung to the side from something unseen crashing into me.
I roll to my feet just as a loudsmackcracks the ground where I’d just been. Gasping for breath, agony in my shoulder, I face my new attacker.