Agatine (Terres book II)

Chapter Thirty Four

Armand watched the palatial building from behind the stone facade of the cafe next door. It had been hours, and surely they should have come out by now. He passed out the door and leaned against the wall, trying not to let his worry get the best of him. Surely, had this plan succeeded, they'd be here, with the green-winged girl in tow. They'd just have to wait for the chaos to start...but so far it hadn't started yet, nor had they appeared from the building.

His heart was nearly ready to explode from his chest when a few tough-looking guards appeared in the doorway, then shoved Rannok, Elyn, and Michael down the staircase. Armand raced toward them while they picked themselves up. Rannok dusted the grime off his cloak, stood up, and strode toward Armand. The look on his face was pure determination, in a way that made Armand swallow the bile rising in his throat, then want to turn and run. 

Before he could blink, or say anything else, Rannok's fist crashed into his face so hard it made his ears ring. He let out a sharp 'Ow!'. Rannok's face twitched, and his eyes had gone a subtle shade of rage. Armand held his hand up while he cradled his throbbing face with the other one.

"What the hell?" he demanded. Rannok reached out to grab him, but Michael grabbed his arms and held him back. Rannok made a seething noise and struggled to get away from him, like a flapping parakeet.

Elyn fixed him with an icy stare. " The only reason we're not letting him kill you is that we're in public. If I were you, I'd get far, far away from here before we let him go."

"What?" Armand asked. He glanced between them, desperate for any clue as to what was going on. Then it hit him, like Rannok's fist to the stomach. He covered his mouth with his hand, and his eyes went wide. This was their last hope. The last, most selfish thing he could do for her, that might maybe make up for what he'd done before. And instead of helping her, he'd ruined everything.

"You must think we're stupid," Elyn said. Armand shook his head frantically from side to side. He grabbed at his hair and looked over to the side of the basement, where he knew the prison cells would be. 

"No," he said.

"Shut the fuck up!" Rannok shouted, so loudly it made everyone pause. Armand continued staring across the square. Around the bend, on the other side of the building, there would be a small wooden door. Outside it, there would be a guard that would act like he didn't actually have anything to watch. And if he got lucky, he might be able to get him to let him in. But he couldn't do it alone. They'd have to overwhelm him, and there were too many guards and too few of them. His heart sank.

"This wasn't supposed to happen. Seltus will kill her. We need to get her back, we need to--"

"--Need to what?" Rannok said. Michael let go of him, and Armand took a step back. Michael put a hand on his shoulder.

"We're in public," Michael said to Rannok. The other boy didn't seem to hear. He rounded on Armand and pinned him by the collar. Armand's feet left the ground a little ways. A cool shudder ran down his spine and he looked away.

"You don't even give a shit," Rannok spat. "You didn't care past when you figured out you couldn't fuck her. You left. And now you've tricked us into giving her to Seltus. I would kill you if there weren't people watching."

Heat rose to Armand's face. He put his arm on Rannok's wrist, then twisted until he let go. He rubbed the back of his neck where the crease of his shirt collar had bit into the skin. He remembered the hurt look in her eyes, like her heart was breaking too. He'd always intended to come back, and to make it up to her in some way he'd never gotten around to figuring out, because life got in the way first.

"You have no idea what you're talking about. I didn't leave because of her. I left because my fucking brother died. And if you ever suggest otherwise again, I swear to whoever's listening that I will choke you. What was I supposed to do?" Armand laughed, a hollow sort of laugh that made the inside of his chest hurt. "I couldn't follow you. People would have seen me--"

The words died on his lips, because Michael and Elyn were staring at him, as if to flaunt their wingless backs. There were other options, ones he didn't see until it was too late. Ones he could have taken had he not been so goddamn stupid. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see that some of Seltus' cronies had taken notice. He needed to make this short, so they could leave. He turned his head, then jerked it down one of the alleyways. To his surprise, the others actually followed when he turned to walk down it. He crouched behind a box, worried that he wasn't stealthy at all, and lowered his voice.

"If we can get rid of the one guard, we can probably get in and get them both," he said. "Inside there's only two or three guys. They're probably too much for us to take, but it's not like we have another option." Unless you want to leave her. Which was the sensible thing to do. The rational thing to do, even when your friends got hurt, when there wasn't that much of a chance of getting them back.

"If this doesn't work, I'm going to strangle you with my bare hands," Rannok said. Armand rolled his eyes.

"We can wait a few hours until he leaves," he said. "Follow me."

They snuck down the alleyway until it got dark and twisty, and the walls grew close and damp. Toward the end it veered off to the left, and Armand ducked down the narrow passageway. Rannok's wings made a wet sound as they scraped against the walls. He knew if he followed this route, it would eventually lead up the other side, where they could overwhelm the guard if he was around, and simply sneak past and go inside, if it wasn't.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the stones got light and the back side of the building came into view. The curved pillars of stone held no one, and not the sound of a footstep could be heard. Armand's feet felt like they were floating on clouds. He waved them forward, then grabbed the handle of the wooden door. He opened it and ushered them inside. When he was sure the way was clear, he turned to squeeze through himself.

They'd just barely disappeared into the darkness when someone grabbed him. Armand wheeled around, slamming the door with the heel of his hand. He reached for his sword, but his assailant knocked it out of his hands before he could grip the blade adequately.  Darius bore down on him like an angry reaver, then swept his feet out from underneath him with his leg, before Armand had a chance to blink.

His back exploded in pain as it hit the exposed brick. Armand scrambled for his sword, just barely catching the handle before Darius could kick it out of the way. Armand slashed the blade across Darius' face. The man let out a yowl, then stepped on Armand's hand. Armand screamed as the bits of bone ground into each other.

Darius reached down and picked Armand up by the collar of his shirt. He gripped his hands around Darius' arms and tried to pry them off. Darius' arm was like a stone pillar as he pinned Armand's chest against the wall, then fished something out of his pocket with his other hand. Armand closed his eyes and tried not to cry. 

Cold steel pressed against his neck. Armand swallowed and turned his head with just his eyes. The sound of breathing rushed in and out of his ears. Darius leaned his face in close. Armand flinched. The edge of the blade stung his face like a bee.

He remembered being six, and jumping off the building. He remembered being eight, and being trapped by a larger boy, like a jackal in a cage, then kicked until he nearly collapsed. He was that boy again. The boy with the bent leg who could not run or scream or defend himself. He wanted Griffon back, more than anything. More than saving Wren. More than feeling like he belonged for the half second that lasted.

"Jonah knew you'd come back, you little rat. Looks like I came back from a piss break just in time to catch you." Darius dug the point of the metal into Armand's jaw. His heartbeat quickened as the sharp metal cut into his flesh. He'd expected a guard. Someone who would be easily overpowered. He let out a weak laugh.

"What are you going to do, threaten me some more?"

Armand stared at the door. Darius could have seen, and if he couldn't see, he might hear. He wanted to pound it with his fists and shout out a warning. To make them run as far from it as they could, and stay there without moving before they started raising terror. He prayed they'd gotten far enough away that their footsteps would be silent.

"No," Darius said, in a voice that should have made Armand frightened, but it didn't. Darius tilted his head into the blade. The pain was like a flash through his skin, but it only lasted a moment before something warm and wet flowed down his chest, and then he felt nothing. Armand did not have time to scream before dark patches crowded out his vision, then overcame him completely.