Chapter 6 A Dance Of Blades

Kael slipped down into unconsciousness, the darkness closing in. Pain called to him, a searing fire inside his ribs and limbs. Then cold stone below him, damp air clamped around him. His eyelids fluttered ajar on the faint glow of torchlight dancing over the crumbling stone walls. In the silence, chains rattled. He was captured. A groan escaped him when he moved, the burden of iron shackles gnawing at his wrists. His mouth was flooded with the metallic tang of blood. Each movement set his body screaming in protest, but he tried to sit up anyway, only to receive a boot kick to his chest to push him back down again. “Stay down, little brother,” Darius said, his voice laced with laughter. “All you’ll do is exacerbate your situation.” Kael coughed and sprayed the floor with crimson. His vision was focused enough to catch Darius hovering over him, those golden eyes glinting in the paltry light. He gave Kael another smug smirk, all malice and wedges, and Kael felt sweeps of hatred coursing through her blood. “You should’ve stayed dead,” Darius went on, kneeling down next to him. “It would’ve been easier for everybody. Instead, you chose defiance." Kael balled his fists, the shackles rubbing agonizingly around his wrists. "Go to hell." Darius laughed, and the sound was hollow. "Hell, little brother? Look around. You’re already there." He rose, glancing at a table that held a collection of wicked implements, shining in the light. Blades, hooks, and brands are instruments of agony, honed by years. His gaze ran a finger along the edge of a dagger, contemplative. “Do you remember when Father would punish us?” Darius mused, grabbing a long, curved blade. "Pain is a teacher, Kael. It turns the weak into something usable. But you? You've always been broken." Kael steeled himself as Darius approached. The first cut was slow and deliberate. A thread of fire shot up his collarbone, warm blood trickling down his skin. He clenched his teeth, holding back a scream. He wouldn’t give Darius that satisfaction. “Still so stubborn,” Darius sighed. "But that won't last. Everyone breaks eventually." “It was a scream that rang in the chamber, not Kael’s, but someone else’s.” Darius stopped, his head jerking toward the heavy iron door. Muffled sounds of a struggle filtered through the cracks, shouts, the clash of steel, and then silence. Darius’ smirk faltered. He spun around and snatched his sword from the wall. "Stay here, dear brother. I’m going to take a round of duty. I’ll be back to finish our lesson. Kael was sitting on the bench as Darius burst through the door, leaving it ajar, breathing in ragged gasps, heart pounding, thinking someone was in here. Torches flared across walls that twitched with odd shadows, rushing to and fro. Then he saw her slip through the doorway, slide across the room like a ghost. Selis. Her face was smeared in blood, hers? someone else’s? Kael couldn’t tell. Her gaze went to him, and without pause, she lunged forward, a dagger in her hand, glinting gold by firelight. For a second, Kael figured she was going to end it. But she sliced the chains that held his wrists together. "Can you stand?" she breathed. Kael nodded, though pain lanced through his limbs. He sat up, swaying slightly. Selis embedded a dagger in his palm. "We have to move," she said. "They'll be back any second." Kael didn’t ask why he was helping her. There would be time for questions later on. For now, survival was the only thing that mattered. They crept down the corridor, blood thick in the air. Bodies lay strewn across the floor; guards struck down with lethal precision. The road ahead was clear, but Kael knew that would not last long. Then, at the far end of the corridor, a slow clap broke out. Darius. He advanced, sword running with new blood, gold eyes glowing with what was almost pleasure. From behind him came more figures from the shadows: black-clad assassins pulling weapons. "Well, isn't this touching?" Darius said, tilting his head. "A rescue attempt? And here I thought you were smarter than that, Selis.” Selis went as rigid as Kael's side, her fingers tightening on the dagger as she watched in horror. "Move aside, Darius. This does not need to conclude with additional blood.” Darius laughed. "Oh, but it does. You know it better than anyone else.” He charged. And everything went away. Everything sort of faded into this blur of movement. Kael scarcely deflected the first blow, and as his body turned wretched with effort to uphold him. Selis spun forward, engaging another of the assassins, those daggers flashing like liquid silver death. Darius lashed out again, no mercy on his strikes. “You’re slow,” he mocked, crashing his sword against Kael’s with a life-shaking jolt that sent him staggering. "Weak. Broken. You never should have come back.” Kael clenched his teeth and kept walking. But he was losing. Each block vibrated through his bones; every counter seemed slow. Darius could see that he was running on the last embers of strength. A searing pain shot through his side. He recoiled, stumbling backward. Darius had plunged deep, blood from Kael coating his blade. “It is finished,” Darius whispered, lifting his sword for the death blow. A piercing scream shattered the air. One of the killers collapsed, a dagger shoved in his eye. Selis spun around, slashing his way through another’s throat. Darius’s focus slipped for an instant. Kael didn't hesitate. With the last of his strength, he drove his dagger into Darius’ thigh. His brother howled in agony, wobbling. Kael took his chance and twisted the blade before pulling it out. Blood streamed from the wound, but Darius didn’t go down. Instead, he smiled, his golden eyes mad with rage. “You’re going to regret that,” he hissed. Kael stumbled backward, vision beginning to blur. "Kael!" “Stop!” Selis screamed as she clutched his arm. "We have to go!" They'd open only the corridor behind them, their only hope for escape. But Darius wasn't done. He pulled the dagger from his leg, now standing straight and exposing the wound to the air. “Run all the hell you want,” he yelled after them. "I will find you. And when that happens, you’ll wish I’d killed you here.” Kael looked back at his brother again and then away from him. They ran. The city was ahead of them—and so was the hunt.