Swords of Gilded Crimson

Chapter 51 | Fight to Flee |

I recalled as vividly as was possible, the layout of the compound I had thus far searched through, and from it, the basis of our escape route. It would be a brash, even reckless one, but if the impending battalions could stand to gain an advantage from the many crates within the vault, it would be a wise one.

Following a moment more of an inner debate, I gave Nikolai a curt nod, after which he gripped the poles either side of him in an effort to rise. He was still toiling to be halfway up, when I slung one of his arms over my shoulder, instructing him, 'Lean on me.'

While still gripping the other pole, he attempted to protest but as before, I paid the whim no heed. When at last, he caved in and trusted in putting his weight onto me. Unwittingly, a surge of warmth travelled through me as he did. Even slumped against me, he stood at a greater height; the muscles of his abdomen, though coated with blood, I could see stretched taut in the process.

I shook my head of the thoughts concerning his raw tenacity or willpower, and refocused onto the course through the prison compound. 'We'll have to find a way that leads out into the forest. There will be openings near the courtyard since it's half within the forest anyway, but the space will be occupied by coming reinforcements.'

Nikolai murmured his approval, and went on to voice more, but as we made a brisk egress out of the vault-like chamber, I heard, and felt from the proximity, the strain of breathing enough air into his lungs to do so. 'We can... go out the way I was brought in.'

I frowned at the idea. 'They'll expect us there, for sure.' In spite of it, as we arrived at the recess within the hallway from which I'd arrived, a different approach came to mind.  'But if it's close enough, maybe it's worth a shot.'

Beside me, he refuted that shred of wistful optimism, grimly. 'It wasn't.'

So the courtyard it was. Though as we made for the prison chambers I'd infiltrated through, it felt even longer than what Nikolai had pessimistically spoken of his route; the need to swerve at a near bend to evade nearing soldiers, or the instinct to draw my sword fighting to surpass the aura or stealth we were attempting, or even the shame felt upon breezing along the agonised, reeling fae that were still imprisoned, all together, felt far too incessant. The journey made to seem never ending.

We were taking cover under the shadows cast from a certain, annular hallway, when I remarked the first sign of a greater hurdle to the escape, than all of those I'd thus far, been lamenting over. With the few droplets of poisons that had already invaded my body, I couldn't tell exactly what she was saying, but with faerie ears perked to their prime, I knew I hadn't been mistaken in hearing the crisp, scathing voice of Veyren's seneschal, carried over the winding passageways we still had yet to get through. Of what I could distinguish, there was the occasional mention of Strycanine... Irondrift... and Lyrine. The latter I surmised, was likely a stronger, newer toxicant she'd brought with her.

Christina Fane's arrival could also mean Edwin Riley's; Veyren's second-in-command, who by now could have enough information on Nikolai to match up with the General in Luxandria. He was due to come in a day's time, regardless.

I recounted what I heard to Nikolai, keeping my attention on the ongoings of the courtyard up front, while he simply grunted in affirmation. But when I'd shifted towards him again to gain an recognition of what the seneschal's interrogation within the last few days might have consisted of, the mere thought of my questions petered out upon seeing him then, barely rendering enough strength to keep his eyelids up; most of which he must have expended in the race here. I hastened to reach him, putting a tentative hand on the hard ridges of his cheekbones.

'Stay awake.' The anguish of my tone betrayed the command I'd attempted, but I continued all the same. Tilting his head so that his eyes were level with mine, I depicted the situation out at the front again to him. 'Christina's arrived. She may have brought Edwin Riley. We still need to get past them.'