Shawna screamed in panic once again. Another face appeared atop hers.
Alistair.
His eyes stared into hers.
Hers into his.
Alistair, another of her kin.
Oh god.
He had a knife.
She started to scream again.
“Hold still, Shawna, I’ve got to free you!”
She froze. He was working at her bonds.
“Still!” Alistair urged.
She held still. His blade slit the ropes that had held her. She was numb as he drew her body from the table, but he urged her to move, to hurry.
“Alistair—”
“Shawna, there’s a lot of people here, move!”
She did so. He urged her back against a wall, and she saw that David had risen from the floor. His arm was soaked in blood,whose, she did not know. He backed away from the cloaked figures, motioning her and Alistair to keep behind him.
“Rush him!” someone cried.
And two brave souls did so, but David drew his sword and swung, and both of the cloaked figures were taken down in the one movement.
“Bloody bastards, can no one do anything right?” one of the figures shouted. Casting off his cloak, he came forward.
It was Fergus Anderson.
With a roar, he went flying toward David, his knife raised.
David sidestepped him.
Shawna turned away as David’s sword plunged into the man’s back.
The mood within the cavern suddenly changed.
“Escape!” a voice whispered, and madness ensued, all of the figures trying to reach the narrow entryway.
Then suddenly backing into the cavern once again.
Hawk Douglas and Sloan Trelawny had come. A figure moved against Sloan.
“Sloan!” Hawk warned.
Sloan drew a pistol with terrifying speed. One bullet was fired. The figure dropped.
No one moved.
Then one of the figures started to weep.