Page 97 of Forged By Malice (Beasts of the Briar #3)

96

Ezryn

I push open the large metal doors to the monastery. One of the Queen’s Army stands there, wearing leather armor with a spear slung across his back. He opens his mouth to speak, but I don’t let the words fall.

I drag the sword across his neck, pushing myself inside the building as he chokes on his own blood. The entrance hall has three more soldiers. Their weapons aren’t even drawn.

Giving a disappointed shake of my head, I launch at them, striking two across the back of their knees. I quickly dodge the one who finally draws his spear. He stumbles, off balance from the miss, and I push between the gap of his armor, piercing his kidney.

He drops.

There’s the creaking of metal, and the elevator shoots up, carrying a bleeding soldier. His wavering gaze meets mine. He’s only delayed the inevitable. I’m not surprised, nor disappointed. I’ll start at the bottom and tear apart every inch of this damned place until I get her back.

Regardless, I wouldn’t have used the elevator.

She is here, but the bond is weak, like a part of her is not answering my call. Every floor must be checked. Every level must be purged.

I take my first step up the monastery stairs, sword still slick with blood. There is no point cleaning it now.

Voices shout, and four more of the spear-wielding Queen’s Army charge down the stairwell. There’s confidence in their faces. They think having the high ground will give them the advantage, that I will be frail without my magic.

They’re wrong.

The chant of their charge turns to a scream as I lunge at the first, the stairway only wide enough for one abreast. I throw him over my shoulder, and he clatters down the stairs, neck snapping at an odd angle.

The one behind stands horrified for a single second, but I am unbothered. Guts spill from his stomach with his jaw still dropped. The third turns to flee, and the kill is easy enough through his back.

The next level is a long hall, much of the same, waiting soldiers. But these men have heard the screams from below. And fear makes them sloppy.

I’m barely breathing hard as I walk up to the next floor.

This one is a narrow walkway with a single wooden door. Muffled voices sound behind it, cries of terror. Sword tight in my palm, I shove through.

Acolytes huddle among brooms and dusters. One, no more than a child, clutches a young fae woman, eyes closed as if to anticipate a strike. “Leave,” I say. They tremble, like shivering blades of grass. “Now!”

Scrambling, they stagger down the stairs, over the blood and carnage.

I don’t look back.

Queen’s Army swarm the staircase of the next level, and the room beyond it. These soldiers know who I am. The word has spread, and the hiss of matronslayer, of creedbreaker, rings in the air. Rings in the air until their throats are slit.

I ascend with only superficial wounds. Glimpsing out a window, I’d say I’m more than halfway up.

The Queen’s Army may have been trained to fight since birth, but none of them have seen combat. Have any of them taken a life before? Do they understand the precise force required on a blade to penetrate a man's flesh? Have they ever made a wrong move and caused the tip to become wedged between two ribs?

Level after level, they fall to my sword, my mind focused on only this task. I do not feel the ache of my muscles or the labor of my breath. The acolytes I let pass, but the soldiers will never drop their weapons. Not those corrupted by Kairyn. How exactly did you sway their loyalty, brother?

Bodies litter each floor, blood dripping down the black stairs like a river.

Did Kairyn think he weakened me after taking away the Blessing? No, he freed me.

I shoved my magic away after the death of our mother, learned to fight without it. The sword is the only weapon I need. I do not even need the beast.

Though he is no different from me. Tearing goblins with tooth and claw is surprisingly similar to butchering fae with steel.

Almost at the top of the monastery, the bond in my chest is as blurry as ever. But of course, this is where they would take her.

The corridor is wide, and I know she’s beyond the door. Rosalina is so close.

But it’s filled with soldiers of the Queen’s Army. And Kairyn’s left his best for last. Plated armor covers their chests and legs, helmets protecting their skulls. Each of them is armed with shield and spear.

“We’ve been given orders to take you alive, if you surrender completely.” One steps forward, torchlight flickering on his helm. I wonder what his expression is beyond it, hidden beneath the shadows.

He can see mine clearly now. They all can. And based on the spears quivering in their hands, they know I’m not about to surrender.

I twirl my sword through the large standing sconce, letting the flames lick at the metal. “You don’t think I climbed all those stairs just to get on my knees now, do you?”

Kairyn’s left his best guards here. To protect his little bird and her prize. But he knew I’d come for her.

Coward Kairyn couldn’t even kill me yourself. Had to get an army to do it.

Or try to.

“Then we have no choice,” the soldier says. Twenty to one. Good odds.

Or it should be.

There’s the sound of jangling metal as they affirm my decision, but I leave my blade in the flame, leave it there until the last possible moment, letting it bathe in the heat.

Wind brushes the side of my wounded ear as the soldier arcs his spear down. I lurch forward and drive the red-hot sword through his armor. It’s as smooth as if it were his bare flesh. Pulling it out, he clatters to the ground, a heap of useless metal.

The others close in, but I swing my blade in a wide sweep, sparks flying as it cuts into steel.

A spear pierces me in the shoulder. I turn, sword stabbing the gap in the soldier’s armor between head and chest. Then I duck out of the way, pulling the spear from me and using it to cut through another approaching soldier.

One by one, they fall beneath me. Two left, and my blade is still plenty hot.

Shaking, one of the soldiers charges. I cut clean through the steel, and he falls at my feet.

“You are an evil, vile creature,” the last one yells, spear quaking. “This blood you spill will stain you forever.”

His own sprays the ground next. And it’s eerily quiet, besides his raspy breathing.

I stand above him.

“Monster. You’re a monster,” he gurgles.

“No.” I drive the sword through his breastplate. “I’m a beast.”