The chamber plunged into an oppressive silence, broken only by the thunder of boots. Archive guards rounded the corner, their silver breastplates catching the flickering lamplight as they leveled their halberds.
“Subdue them!”
With a flick of Talon’s wrist, the spirits in the rafters dived, soaring through the room to form a shimmering, translucent shield between the steel and my chest.
“Go, little flame.”
“What?” I shrieked. “I am not leaving you.”
“I will be okay,” he said calmly. “I need you safe.”
He did not look at me. His gaze was pinned on the guards who had frozen, staring warily at the wispy spirits heaving in front of them.
I darted toward the oak doors, the dark shield mimicking my every move. I slipped behind a row of towering shelves, the scent of old leather and dust filling my nose as I shuffled toward the end closest to the wall.
I was closer to Keeper Sora’s body here. I could see she was still breathing, but her limbs were entirely limp. It was the first and only time I had ever seen her in such a slumber.
Talon’s roar pulled my attention from the unconscious Keeper, my spine straightening as I peered through the gaps in the mahogany shelves.
A guard had a forearm locked around Talon’s throat, while another pressed the tip of a blade against his sternum. His spirits were a blur of motion, desperately keeping three other soldiers occupied, and it was only then that I noticed the bodies already littering the stone floor.
I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp, my mind racing for a way to tip the scales. I did not have a blade, but my fingers found the spine of a heavy, iron-bound tome on the bottom shelf. I hefted the massive volume, the weight of itstraining my muscles as I moved in a low crouch around the edge of the bookcase.
The lead guard was shouting something, his mouth moving in a snarl, but I could not hear his words over the frantic pounding of my own blood in my ears.
I shuffled behind a desk, and shouted, “Hey!”
The guard with his sword extended began to turn, his brows furrowing as he caught my movement in the periphery, but he did not have enough time to center his aim. The book flew from my hands, cutting through the air, before it slammed into the bridge of his nose.
He cried out, his weapon clanging to the stone floor in a spray of sparks. The guard pinning Talon dived for the fallen blade, but Talon twisted, picking his entire body weight up and slamming him into the still-startled guard in front of him.
They collided with a sickening thud, landing in a tangled heap of plate armor and groans.
“Little flame,” Talon called out. “I am going to separate the bars enough for you to squeeze through. Get to the lowest window.”
I nodded and scrambled into Sora’s private study, heading for the narrow archway near the floor. The spirits followed, squealing as they jammed themselves into the gaps of the iron bars.
I watched as they expanded, the metal groaning and bending outward until the opening was wide enough for me to pass. I forced the lever up, the glass swinging wide.
“So this is how you have been entering my chambers,” I muttered, looking back at him as he reached the threshold.
Talon smirked as he delivered a playful slap to my bottom. I gasped, my face heating as I pinned him with a glare that lacked any real sting.
“Get moving, little flame.”
I grumbled but before I could move, one of the fallen guards let out a low groan behind us.
Peeking over my shoulder, I saw a flash of silver moving next to a fallen bookcase, but before the soldier could even find his footing, Talon flicked his wrist. A single, needle-thin wisp of inky shadow shot through the air, striking the man square in the center of his forehead. He let out a choked squeal before his eyes rolled back, his body collapsing into a heap once more.
“Show off,” I muttered, lifting a leg over the windowsill.
Talon huffed a laugh. He wrapped his hands around my thigh, his grip firm and steady as he boosted me upward.
I did not look back as I scrambled through the warped iron bars, my skin grazing the cold metal. I dropped to the damp grass outside, the silence of the Archive grounds a jarring shift from the chaos of the hall. A moment later, the shadows within the room surged, and Talon followed, flowing through the gap with a predatory ease that made my own movements feel clumsy in comparison.
He landed beside me, his silhouette cutting a jagged line against the moonlight. He did not speak, but his hand found mine, his fingers locking with mine as he pulled me toward the cover of the ancient trees.
“Talon, where are we going?”