Page 144 of To Kill a King
Elessan leaned back as the metal sung through the air a finger’s width from his chin.
They circled, slowly moving to the left.
Black and red fabric flashed in his peripheral vision as the old guard scrambled back up the stairs as soon as his pathway was clear.
He snorted. Cowardly human.
Brooks tapped Elessan’s sword and jumped back before he could riposte.
Flashing his fangs, Elessan lunged, aiming for the inquisitor’s left flank. He supposed he should be grateful the human guard was staying out of the way.
Slamming his sword aside in a skillful parry, Brooks leaned forward with a quick stab toward Elessan’s sternum. “Are you so eager to feel your own blade in your gut a second time, knife-ears?”
Elessan spun aside as the tip passed through where his heart had been a heartbeat before. A phantom pain sliced through his abdomen as the tissue around the old wound stretched.
“I’ll separate your head from your shoulders, elf. Let’s see if you can come back from that.”
Their blades crossed again and again as they danced forward and back, sending echoes off the walls and down the stairs. Any hope he’d had of surprising Malkov was likely gone.
“You’re welcome to try.” With a grunt, Elessan pushed the inquisitor’s blade away a little too hard, leaving himself wide open.
Brooks spun in a circle, his weapon slicing through the air at neck level.
Elessan bent forward as the metal flew past overhead. Standing tall, he held his sword out to counter as Brooks completed his spin.
Anticipating the block, Brooks flicked his wrist again, bouncing his blade off Elessan’s and slicing for his gut.
Elessan stepped back onto the stairs.
“Don’t think the high ground will save you, mountain elf,” Brooks growled.
Elessan flashed his fangs. He wasn’t so concerned about saving himself as he was about Aliya.
Brooks followed him up the stairs to the landing with the guard room he’d passed bare minutes before.
“Why do you support Malkov?” Elessan asked as he shoved the other man’s weapon aside.
The red stone on Brooks’ forehead flashed, making his eyes shine red. He slashed at Elessan’s knees. “Power, elf.”
Swallowing against the dryness in his throat, Elessan tilted his head and circled to the right, stepping into the empty room. “Any ruler can grant power. Why serve a corrupt one?”
Brooks’ eyes glittered. “Few can grant access to magic.” He flashed his teeth as he followed Elessan inside. “Every mage he kills, I get some, courtesy of the magestone’s bond to his tattoo.” His fingers flickered with red light that flowed like morning mist over the mountain tops.
“Why do you want all this power?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know!” Brooks flicked his nails and five red blades no longer than his fingers coalesced and flew through the air.
Valek!
Elessan bent backward as they soared past, slamming into the wall behind him with a crash that sounded like lightning. Contracting his abdomen, he sprung back up onto two feet and into a front handspring followed by an aerial somersault that put him behind the inquisitor, blocking the exit. He spun and slashed across Brooks’ shoulder blades.
“Have you considered just walking away?”
The man arched his back and screamed as he spun, twirling his weapon. “Give me one reason why I would abandon my benefactor.”
Elessan parried, driving the sword harmlessly aside. “Your city has been overtaken by dwarves and elves. Do you truly think you can kill us all before one of us gets you?” His riposte aimed right for Brooks’ jugular notch.
With a quick flick of the wrist, Brooks slammed his blade off-target and over his shoulder. “I don’t have to finish off everyone. Cut the head off the snake, the body dies.”