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ARCHER IS REFUSING to leave. Everleigh is determined that he can’t stay and Will is standing between them.
“I have vowed to keep you safe. Let me do my job.”
“My brothers would never hurt me.”
“I’m happy to be wrong. Let me stay.”
“Let me be right. Just go.”
The room is dark, the lamps burning low, the bath water cold.
“Please?”
There’s a crash outside, further along the corridor. Archer pushes Everleigh behind him and reaches for his sword.
There’s silence, both inside the room and out of it. “What was that?” Will whispers, all of them looking towards the door. It’s heavy, made out of solid wood, but not locked. Anyone could open it and anyone could come in.
They laugh nervously. “We’re all on edge.”
“I’ll be fine. Knock for me at breakfast time.”
Archer nods. Were they just panic-stricken, would she be fine if they left? He takes her over to the grate. If she knows how to open it perhaps he would rest. There is a little maid outside her door while she sleeps, who would sound the alarm if something were to happen.
There’s a scuffling noise directly outside her room. “I don’t like this,” Archer says, looking towards the door as he pulls out the grate. They could all be out of the room in seconds.
“Quick.” Archer can hear muffled voices and someone rattles the door handle. If they weren’t all looking they wouldn’t have seen it or heard it.
Trusting his instincts and listening to his gut, Archer pushes Everleigh through the gap and jumps in after her. They don’t have a light. It’s dark and smelly and Everleigh is sure there are rats at her feet. “Come on.” He holds his hand out to Will. Will shakes his head.
“They’ll be expecting a body in her bed. If she’s not here, they’ll look for her.”
Everleigh shakes her head, reaching out to him. “No.” Her voice is low but urgent. “Will, quickly. Now!”
He ignores her and climbs in to her bed, pulling the covers up over his head, his back to the door, facing Archer and Everleigh.
“Will. Will!” Everleigh starts sobbing. “This is stupid.” She pushes Archer aside; she’ll drag Will out of the room herself. She won’t put him in danger. Archer grabs hold of her to stop her, as the door to her room is pushed open.
A cloaked figure rushes into the room, Archer quietly slides the grate into place and puts his hand over Everleigh’s mouth just before she screams out.
The man takes the several steps to Everleigh’s bed, where Will is tucked under her covers, and draws his sword. Everleigh is shaking she’s sobbing so much, her mouth working against Archer’s hand as she tries desperately to cry out, despite the danger.
The cloaked beast raises his hand, without checking under the cover; it’s inconceivable that anyone other than Everleigh would be there. If it wasn’t for Archer and Will, she would have been there.
She watches the scene like a play; it couldn’t be real.
The swordsman slices into Will, once, twice, three times. She has no idea which bits of him are hit but he must be dead.
Archer is struggling to hold on to her; she’s still rallying against him. Every instinct telling her to help her friend, even though she knows it is too late.
The cloaked man sheaths his sword and pulls back his cloak.
Everleigh’s legs buckle underneath her and Archer just manages to hold her up. If she had dropped, then he would have heard her.
Her brother Macsen would have heard her.
A noise in the corridor makes him cover his head again and slip out of the room. Maybe he had been planning on checking on his handiwork, taking a look at his murdered sister but luckily for them he did not.
Her brother.
She reaches for the grate.
“We can’t go back in. It’s not safe.”
“He thinks I’m dead. My brother thinks I’m dead.” Sobs overtake her again. Life as she knew it is over. Power did strange things to people but she would never have believed that Macsen would hurt her.
“We need to go to Halfreda’s rooms. We’ll be safe there till morning. Even if he comes back and finds Will he won’t look for you there.”
“Will.” Everleigh can’t move. The grief is too stark. She hasn’t experienced anything like it since she lost her mum, and that grief had been a different kind of grief as she had been too young to truly appreciate it; this is violent and cruel. She can’t stand it. She can’t breathe.
“Everleigh. We need to go.”
“I can’t leave him here. It’s cold and dark and he’s dead by himself.”
“You can’t do anything for him.”
“I won’t leave him.” Everleigh crosses her arms, tears coursing down her face. “He saved my life.”
Archer opens the grate and climbs through to Everleigh’s room, reaching back to help her out. He holds her back while he pulls the bedsheets off Will. He is in a bad way, but Archer can hear his gurgling breath.
“Everleigh, he’s still breathing, help me grab him.”
Everleigh moves around the other side of the bed and seeing her friend bloodied and dying, covers her mouth with her hand. She’s crying but follows Archer’s lead, helping him lift Will up and pulling him forwards. Archer moves next to her and hoists him up over his shoulder like a rag doll.
“Check the corridor.”
Everleigh runs forward, opens the door and nods that the way is clear. Archer carries Will easily, he is lighter and shorter than him, though slippery from the blood.
“We need to take him to Halfreda. She can fix him.”
Archer nods. “If anyone can.”