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Everyone in Acedrex knew the Decapitator.
Everyone in Acedrex feared her.
Knight Ferko was a cold-blooded killer who decapitated anyone who dared challenge her post as White Knight. She didn’t know the meaning of the word mercy.
I watched the passionate exchange between the Black Knight and the White Knight, my stomach turning with disgust.
After a long moment, Knight Ferko pushed Traian away. She straightened her uniform, composing herself.
“Leave,” she said in a firm command.
Traian lifted a hand and tried to caress her face.
She slapped it away. “Leave, I said.”
The Black Knight sighed in disappointment, then walked away.
A few beats passed. Ferko watched Traian’s retreating figure, then glanced in the direction of the throne room.
I froze as she peered into the dim hall. She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head, frowning.
Shit!
She had noticed the crack in the door. Could she see me through it? No, it was too dark. She couldn’t.
I stayed still, my lungs frozen. If I moved, she would surely notice me, if she hadn’t already.
She glanced back the way Traian had gone.
Seeing my chance to move, I jumped away from the door and retreated to one side. My arm hit something. There was a tittering sound that seemed to last forever, then whatever I’d hit crashed to the floor with the sharp sound of shattering glass.
The sound was a strident explosion inside my mind.
Looking for an escape, I turned away from the door and faced what looked like rows and rows of bookshelves. I was not in the throne room. I was in a library. What looked like a stained glass window made up the large fourth wall at the end of the long space.
Steps pounded outside the door behind me. I ran, my movements liquid, faster than humanly possible. I hid behind a shelf and peered over the top of a row of books.
The door burst open. It hit the wall with a loud boom that echoed through the room. The Decapitator stood at the threshold, peering in and standing in a threatening crouch.
I tightened the grip on my dagger as my mind raced.
I’m trapped. Shit. I’m trapped. How do I get out of here?
Ferko sniffed the air. I heard the deep inhale, followed by a long exhale.
Then she was moving, rushing around the shelf behind which I was hiding. I had a split second to decide what to do. Fight? Or flee?
I crouched and braced myself, holding the dagger in front of me.
In the next breath, a figure blurred before me. Faster than the eye could see, Ferko grabbed my wrist and twisted it at the same time that she drove me backward. Pain exploded up my forearm as it bent. My dagger dropped to the floor with a clatter and, next I knew, my whole arm was behind my back and my cheek was plastered against the wall.
“Who are you?” Ferko demanded, pushing on my elbow until it felt as if my shoulder would become unhinged.
“Are you alright?” A voice suddenly echoed through the library.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Knight Traian’s silhouette framed by the door.
Ferko’s head jerked in his direction. “I told you to fucking leave,” she spat.
Traian frowned peering at my face. He stepped into the room. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“You know him?” Ferko demanded.
Traian opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, his eyes went wide and his right hand jerked toward his stomach. His surprise lasted for only an instant, then he tried to turn. Someone was behind him.
An arm wrapped around Traian’s throat before he could turn.
“What...?” Ferko said in a shocked murmured, her hold on me relaxing a fraction.
A sword point suddenly poked out through Traian’s stomach. Blood blossomed in the vest of his three-piece suit. He struggled but was forced to his knees. As he fell, I could finally see who was behind him.
Bianca!
She pushed her sword deeper, all the way to the hilt. Traian twisted violently, throwing Bianca off balance. She crashed against a bookshelf.
I had to help her.
Ferko seemed to remember herself, but it was too late. Her hold on me had slacked just the right amount. I pushed her and dodged out of the way, batting at her hands as she tried to regain her grip. She was too strong. I couldn’t let her catch me.
Ferko spun, going after me. I grabbed a heavy book from one of the shelves and threw it at her. It hit the side of her head, slowing her a fraction.
There was a crash, a groan from Traian. I couldn’t see Bianca behind the tall bookshelves on the other side.
I lunged for my dagger, grabbed it, and rolled back to my feet, brandishing the weapon.
Following the sounds of Bianca’s struggle, I searched for her. I spotted two pairs of boots, thrashing and peeking from the edge of one of the bookshelves. I took a step in Bianca’s direction, but Ferko blocked my path. She was crouching low, her own dagger in her hand. Her eyes were glowing intensely, her teeth were bare. She looked more vampire than human.
There was another crash from Bianca’s direction. Would all the noise bring someone else to see what was happening? We were far from the party, but there might be Sentries patrolling the long halls. I couldn’t be caught here.
Ferko was standing between me and the door. Was there another way out? But I couldn’t leave, not with Bianca in danger.
As if to relieve my worries, the thrashing from Bianca and Traian’s struggle came to a stop. Ferko glanced quickly to one side, then took a step back. From her new vantage point, she peered behind the shelf.
Her expression revealed nothing as I tried to read her reaction.
“Dead?” she asked to whoever had won the battle.
No answer came from the other side of the shelf.
I imagined Traian nodding. I imagined Bianca vacant eyes and limp body. I clenched my teeth as my mouth went dry.
No. She couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t.
Steps sounded behind the bookshelf. The dagger shook in my hand.
Bianca, her white uniform soaked in blood, stepped into the middle hall. I breathed a trembling sigh of relief that could easily be mistaken for fear at the sight to two White Board members.
She appeared unharmed, though it was impossible to be sure, considering all the blood that covered her clothes and hands, even her face.
“Let’s kill this other intruder, now,” Ferko said, squaring her shoulders in my direction.
Other intruder?
Ferko was smart. She was calling Traian, her lover, an intruder. She was inventing lies that would hide what she’d been doing with one of King Maximus’s Knights... within the walls of the White Palace, no less.
“Yes, Knight Ferko,” Bianca said in a cold voice that froze my insides.
Bianca reached inside her boot for her dagger and joined the White Knight’s side. What was she doing? Had she decided I was more trouble that I was worth? That I knew too much?
I took a step back. They were blocking the only exit. If I tried to find an escape toward the back of the room, I might end up more trapped than I already was.
Ferko lunged forward. Bianca moved at the same time, lagging behind for a brief instant. I started to turn toward the stained glass window, but before I glanced away, I caught the glint of Bianca’s dagger slashing at Ferko’s jugular.
Blood shot from the White Knight’s neck in a spray. Shocked, Ferko dropped her weapon. Her hands flew to her neck and squeezed. A gurgling sound came from her throat. Blood slipped between her fingers, coating them crimson at a prodigious rate.
I watched in disbelief as the Decapitator collapsed to the floor and began convulsing. Her dark eyes set on Bianca in disbelief.
“I am not anyone’s puppet,” Bianca said, taking a step back as Ferko tried to grab one of her boots.
Her voice had been like the chill of a winter storm, biting and unforgiving. It made my stomach twist with apprehension. Though, maybe, I felt sick because of the pungent smell of blood that clogged the air.
As Ferko lay dying, Bianca turned to me. “Are you alright?”
I nodded.
Hurried steps sounded down the long hall outside the door.
Bianca’s head jerked back. She glanced over her shoulder. “Someone’s coming. You have to get out of here!”
“How?” I asked in a tone full of desperation.
Her eyes darted around as she seemed to think of a way out. Her mouth opened and closed hopelessly. Panic etched her features.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “There’s a door, though I don’t know where it leads.”
Despite her shaky knowledge, she ran toward the back of the long room and opened a door at the far corner. It opened to a narrow room lined with bookshelves. There was no way out. It was no more than a closet.
“What?” Bianca appeared confused as if she had expected an exit.
She slammed the door and ran to the other side of the room, opened another door. The same sight greeted us.
The steps sounded closer, now there were voices, too.
She glanced toward the stained glass window, then toward a chair. She pulled it out from under the table, picked it up, and aimed it toward the window.
“Don’t you dare,” a calm voice spoke from the small, bookshelf-lined room we’d just checked. A figure stepped out. It was an older woman with cropped, silver hair. She wore a severe-looking dress and expression. I held up my dagger.
“Loretta!” Bianca exclaimed. “Please don’t...”
“Don’t what?” she asked, appearing calm, even as her eyes traveled the length of Bianca’s bloody uniform.
“He needs to... needs to get out of here.” Bianca set the chair down. “Please help him.”
Without hesitation, the woman nodded. “This way.” She pointed toward the small room with no exit.
I frowned.
“There is a passage,” Loretta said. “Come on.”
I turned toward Bianca. “What about you?”
“I need to stay, deal with this.”
I shook my head.
“She’ll be alright,” Loretta said with a certainty that didn’t belong in a moment like this.
“You get out of here.” Bianca grabbed my arm and shook it. “Promise.” When I didn’t answer, she urged again. “Promise me!”
“I promise,” I said, then walked into the small room with Loretta.
As the woman closed the door to the room, Bianca stood on the other side. Then her blood-soaked figure disappeared, and everything went dark.
There was a click, followed by the sound of wood sliding, then Loretta guided me through the dark, narrow passages and out of the White Palace.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Continue reading in the next book, White Bishop.
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