Page 127 of The False Prince (Ascendance 1)

Where are you?” the man growled. Imogen back-stepped as he entered the room, holding the poker like it was a sword.

He was a big man, with a belt that had been stretched to its limits to fit around him. Even to protect us, Imogen never should have attacked him. She had no chance against this man.

He advanced and she swung at him, but this time he grabbed the poker. With one twist, he pulled it from her hands and yanked her toward him. “Who are you hiding here?” he asked. “Veldergrath will want to talk to you.”

Imogen tried to resist his grip, but it was pointless. Finally, she wrenched up her face, then stomped on his foot with all her strength. He released her only for a second and she tried to run, but he grabbed her again and shook her by the shoulders.

“Oh no, you’re coming with me,” he snarled.

By that time, I had crept to within only a few feet from him, my sword out and ready. Imogen didn’t mean to betray me. She glanced my way for only a second, but it was enough. The man pushed her to the floor and with surprising agility swung around with the poker, swiping hard enough to make a swishing noise in the air.

I ducked to avoid his attack and thrust my blade deep into his gut. He gasped as blood leaked from his wound, then for the first time really looked at me. “Prince Jaron?” he whispered.

“Perhaps soon,” I said as he toppled over.

Imogen ran into my arms, holding me so tightly that she nearly knocked me over. Her entire body was shaking, so I put my arm around her to try to calm her. One hand clawed into my wounded back, which I couldn’t have tolerated if it was anybody but her causing me the pain.

Then she darted back from me, hearing a sound behind us. I swung around, ready with the sword, then lowered it when I saw Mott in the doorway.

Mott’s eyes went from the man on the floor to the sword to me. “Drop the sword and get out of here,” he whispered. “Now.”

I gently set the sword on the floor, then took Imogen’s hand and pulled her into the tunnel. Before I shut the door behind us, I saw Mott use the dead man’s knife to stab himself in the arm. Reeling, he pulled the knife out, then fell on the floor.

Several of Veldergrath’s men ran into the room. “What happened here?” one of them, a leader of the group, asked.

Mott rolled over. Whether he was exaggerating his pain or not, I believed his performance. “Your man attacked me,” he mumbled. “I might have startled him when I came in, but it was only to assist him with unlocking these doors.”

One of Veldergrath’s men knelt down to examine Mott’s injury. “You’re lucky it wasn’t deeper, or in a more vital area.”

“I tried to dodge out of the way. He was aiming for my chest. I had to defend myself.”

“You must have provoked him!”

Mott shook his head. “You saw me walk in here. I had no reason to attack this man. Perhaps I should report to your master and mine exactly how this search is going.”

“Get rid of that body,” the leader said. “Veldergrath doesn’t want damage done to Conner’s property. One of you clean up this blood.”

A few men went to look for cleaning supplies, and after wrapping him in sheets from Roden’s bed, it took most of the rest of them to haul the body out of the room. Mott assured them he could get himself bandaged and was soon left alone.

He glanced at the crack of the opened passage door I’d been staring through, then nodded at me.

I closed the door tightly and sank against the wall with my arms wrapped around my knees. Imogen sat silently beside me. I vaguely felt her presence, but took no notice of it. As it was, all I could do was stare into the darkness and try to keep breathing.

Conner said he would let the devils have his soul if it meant succeeding with his plan. I had the feeling that when he did, the souls of all the rest of us would go to the devils too.

Imogen and I remained there until the search ended and Veldergrath’s company of men left. Conner himself came to claim us in the tunnels. He found Tobias and Roden first, and then they walked downstairs through the tunnels to find us.

Conner offered me a hand from where I still sat on the floor, numb. I’d never killed before, not even accidentally or for defense or for whatever label they would attach to it tonight. My only intention had been to stop him from harming Imogen, and without alerting anyone else in the house to my presence. That at least had been accomplished, but it had come at a heavy price.

And as hard as I tried to avoid the comparison, in that moment, I had seen myself as Cregan, sending a deadly arrow into Latamer’s chest, all to protect Conner’s unholy plan. Every feeling within me was pain, so I hollowed it out and barely acknowledged Conner’s greeting when he saw me.

I took his hand, but he did more work in pulling me up than I did with any effort to lift myself. I could tell from there that the imitation of Prince Jaron’s sword was gone. Mott must have taken it with him when he went to get bandaged. Conner led us into the bedroom, where I sat on my bed. Roden sat next to me, Tobias took a stool for himself, and Imogen stood, keeping herself apart from the rest of us. Mott was already in the room when we entered. His arm was bandaged and his face was grim. It was obvious where the floor had been scrubbed of blood.

Conner addressed Imogen first. “May I assume that you were in the tunnels because you were somehow involved in the death of that man?”

Imogen nodded, slowly.

“It was my fault,” I said. “I thought I struck him low enough to avoid any major damage.”