Death came for Issa.
The Necroseti guard drove his long, straight dagger at her chest. Issa twisted out of the path of the striking dagger, barely avoiding its biting edge. Her chains clanked and pulled tight, yanking her back toward the man attempting to murder her. His next attack scraped a long, shallow gash along her chest, tearing a hole in her thin under-tunic.
Fire flared down Issa’s shoulder blade, right breast, and sternum, and a pained growl escaped her lips. She leapt back to the full length of her chain, opening a gap between them. The man rushed her, dagger held low, his thrusts quick and furious.
Issa’s eyes flew wide as she recognized the attack pattern. Though her enemy wore the silver breastplate of a Necroseti guard, he fought with the savagery of a Mahjuri trained in the Institute of the Seven Faces. Dirty, brutal, and vicious, a flurry of quick swipes of the dagger aimed at her throat, belly, arms, and chest.
The chains that held Issa bound saved her life. Steel clanged on steel as the dagger struck her manacles, turning aside a savage swipe intended to open her wrists. Before the man could follow up, Issa brought her heavy boot up and snapped it into his stomach. Her kick, driven by muscles strengthened over hours spent running the Blades’ Two Hundred, sent him stumbling backward.
In the seconds it took the man to recover, Issa dove for the stone she’d spent the last hours sharpening. A former prisoner had worked the stone against the rough wall until it had a half-edge, and she’d continued the labor, a desperate attempt to occupy her mind and keep up her willpower as she sought to escape imprisonment. Her fingers closed around the stone’s smooth surface and she whipped around to face her enemy.
The man sneered. “That won’t save you.” He tightened his grip on his dagger and stalked toward her. “Surrender, or I’ll make your death truly agonizing.”
“A Keeper’s Blade never yields!” Issa growled.
“A foolish choice,” snarled the man. “Tethum will have to send your head to the Lady of Blades.”
Issa’s jaw clenched. She had no intention of fighting a defensive battle. She retreated to the full length of her chain, her eyes fixed on him. Watching his feet, waiting for him to come within reach.
Just one more step, you bastard!
He came toward her, and she attacked.
Her shackled hands snapped up, and her fingers released their grip on the stone. The rock hurtled toward him, right at his face. He whipped his head to the side and the stone sailed past, clattering against the stone wall behind him. A sneer twisted his lips as he turned back to face Issa. His disdain turned to shocked surprise as Issa drove clenched fists into his throat.
The man fell back, gasping, his breath coming in horrible wheezing gasps. Even as he staggered, Issa brought her foot around in a kick snapped right at his head. Her heavy boot crashed into his face and slammed him against the wall. His head cracked off stone with bone-crushing force. He dropped, blood gushing from his shattered nose, split lips. More crimson stained the golden sandstone behind him as he slid down the wall and fell in a boneless heap at her feet.
Issa leapt atop the man as he collapsed, her knee driving into his chest. The thump of his body hitting the floor was drowned out by the clank of her shackles as she wrapped the chain around his neck. One mighty yank, and the man’s neck snapped like a dried twig.
Silence filled the lamplit cell, broken only by the blood rushing in Issa’s ears. Her heart hammered a staccato beat against her ribs and her breath came quick, frantic.
Keeper’s teeth! Issa stared down at the body beneath her, mind racing. The man’s words echoed in her thoughts. “Tethum wanted you alive, but he’ll settle for your death!”
Who in the fiery hell is Tethum, and why does he want me dead? Or alive? She knew no one by that name, but she’d made a few enemies during her short tenure as a Keeper’s Blade. Perhaps he was one of the Indomitables she’d arrested on the Slave’s Tier, or a Necroseti seeking vengeance for the death of High Divinity Tinush—a death that had wrongfully been laid at her feet.
Issa wouldn’t put it past Madani, Natoris, or any of the surviving members of the Keeper’s Council to order her murder. Yet, if they’d wanted her dead, they simply would have executed her in the Crucible the moment she entered. Madani had insisted on a grand execution after sundown, refused to inter her body in the Keeper’s Crypts. By doing so, he’d ensured she would never join the ranks of the fallen Blades defending the Tomb of Hallar. A final indignity to heap on her after he executed her like a coward.
More than that, Madani would never send Issa’s head to Lady Callista. It didn’t matter that he had no idea Issa was the Lady of Blades’ secret daughter; the Necroseti knew better than to pick a direct fight with the Proxenos of the Keeper’s Blades, commander of the Indomitables, the most powerful military ruler in Shalandra.
She couldn’t discount the thought that Tethum was a Necroseti working independent of Madani’s orders, taking action against her of his own account. Yet one explanation seemed most likely: someone outside the Keeper’s Temple wanted her dead.
But if he’s not a Keeper’s Priest, how the hell did he get one of the Necroseti guards to do his dirty work?
