She could feel it. That drop in her stomach when gravity reasserted control. Genoa teetered backwards even as she thrust out her knife.
The steel blade found a new sheath inside the first creature’s skull.
That didn’t slow her fall into the waiting arms of the other creature.
Genoa twisted in mid-air, gripping her backup knife as she turned.
Magic coursed through the blade of her new focus. At her command, one partially formed iron rod dropped out of the air. The tiled floor beneath the second creature cracked under the impact. Partially coagulated blood stained the walls and ceiling tiles.
Genoa’s back hit the unmoving remains without injury. She let out a short laugh. “Take that, you bastards!”
In the blink of an eye, eight glowing red eyes appeared above Genoa.
Her smile vanished in an instant. The slowly receding adrenaline in her body jolted into full production. Sweat formed on her hand as her grip on her knife tightened.
Arachne’s fingers twitched. Her spare legs twitched. Not a sudden twitch, but a constant, nervous twitch.
They stared at one another. Watching. Waiting for one to make a move.
Blood dripped into Genoa’s mouth.
And she did nothing about it. She didn’t even blink as part of her vision went red with a trickle of blood over one eye. Genoa was
The first one to blink might wind up with the other’s weapon through their skull.
Still, the strain added up. Genoa could feel her own fingers getting itchy. If this was it, she wasn’t going to let Arachne get the first shot in.
Just as she was about to repurpose the iron rod that had jammed into the tiles, Arachne’s grin widened. Her hand reached out to one side and gripped Genoa’s primary knife.
She wrenched it from the skull of the creature, flipped it in the air, and caught it by the blade. Slowly, she lowered her hand, offering it to Genoa hilt first.
Genoa grit her teeth as she accepted the knife and didn’t unclench her jaw to speak. “Thanks.”
“I figured you needed help,” Arachne said. She kept her arm out, waiting for Genoa to reach forwards and accept her assistance.
Genoa swatted it away and blinked to her feet. She sheathed her backup dagger as soon as she double-checked her primary for any damage.
“You were just sitting there, not getting up. I thou–”
A scream echoed down the hallways. Not a scream of fright or surprise. No. Genoa knew that sound well enough. She made similar noises often enough in her earlier days of mage-knighting.
It was the fingers-on-chalkboard cry of a human in pain.
Both of their heads whipped down the hall as a second cry lasted the full length of someone’s lungs and then some.
“That wasn’t Eva.”
“I don’t think it was Juliana.” She hoped it wasn’t, but there was a chance. Genoa had never heard her daughter cry out in absolute pain. That was something she hoped to never hear.
“Good. Let’s proceed with our objective then.”
“We can’t just leave her.”
“Watch me.” Arachne turned on the sharp spike that made up her heel. The tile cracked as she stalked forwards.
Genoa wiped away a good amount of blood from her face as she sprinted after Arachne.
“I thought you were going to save the worthless human?”
“The scream came from this direction.” If the creatures had jumped into a side room for the purpose of ambushing the two of them, they may have found someone hiding. Someone they might have ignored had she not entered the building.
It wouldn’t be the first unrelated person’s blood on her hands. That didn’t make it right. That didn’t mean she could ignore it.
Genoa checked every room as they made their way down the hall. Most were study rooms.
One wasn’t.
Arachne marched on, only sparing a glance into the room.
Genoa froze. It was an infirmary. Not a large one. Not big enough for more than two or three patients.
Mage-knights were not an innocent sort. The guild made sure of that before anyone received their pin. Retiring from the guild tended to leave people as shells of their former selves.
A good number didn’t have to worry about that. They never made it to retirement.
Carlos and Juliana helped Genoa avert that fate. Having a sort of callous regard for death, especially towards those Genoa didn’t know, didn’t hurt. While she had retired after only twenty years, Genoa considered herself a veteran–an elite among the elites of the guild. She knew for a fact that others considered her an elite as well.
As such, Genoa had
That experience all led up to Genoa knowing one thing with absolute certainty.
She needed a drink.
A young-looking woman wearing the standard Brakket nurse uniform lay spread out on the floor.
Very spread out.
