She raced around one more corner and found the assassin surrounded by the bodies of three more guards. It looked as if one had gotten in a blow, for the tattooed girl was bleeding profusely from a gash across her ribs. As Jandra ran toward her the girl looked up, her eyes still full of the same dark hatred. Yet now something new flashed within them: confusion.
"Ah ough ah ill ooo," the girl grumbled.
"You thought you killed me?" Jandra asked, drawing up short, her eyes focused on the deadly blade. Jandra no longer feared the poison, but she wasn't anxious to be stabbed again. It was time to attempt a feat she'd witnessed Vendevorex perform many times. She dipped her fingers into the pouch of silver powder that hung at her side, then flicked her fingers toward the girl. She waited several seconds as she and the girl circled each other, their eyes locked. The girl seemed wary, as if she were facing a ghost.
The microscopic dust settled over the dagger. Vendevorex had been able to command the particles to instantly decay matter. Jandra reached out with her mind, willing the dagger to crumble to rust.
The dagger glowed with an internal fire, then began to crack and crumble. The fire didn't stop at the dagger, however. The girl dropped the weapon and wailed, shaking her hand as if it were in terrible pain. As she shook, the skin of her hand unraveled, the flesh falling away in damp nuggets until she was waving fingers of bone.
Blood gushed from her wrist as Jandra watched in horror. The glow continued up her arm. Jandra reached out, trying to find all the particles with her mind, commanding them to stop. The girl fell to the floor, her right arm now nothing but bone. The flesh of her shoulder bubbled, but the girl had stopped screaming. Jandra finally brought the reaction under control, but it was too late. The girl was dead, with a good portion of her right rib cage exposed. Jandra turned away, sick to her stomach, as the girl's blood pooled across the floor. She slumped against the wall, welcoming the coolness of the stone. The sound of the girl's dying agony still echoed in her ears. Only, as she listened closer, she realized it wasn't the girl's death cry she was hearing. Another girl was screaming, several of them in fact. There was more than one assassin in the castle.
There would be time to feel sick later. Now, she clenched her fists and ran toward the noise.
Pet weighed his odds. He was confident he could deal with any given girl. It was just a question of how quickly the other two would move to attack when he acted. The two that Shandrazel had fought were wounded. The bitten girl grew paler with each step as her wounds trickled wet red ribbons across her breasts and belly. The other girl was limping after her collision with the column. So, the greatest threat was the girl he'd tripped. He tilted his head to see her movements from the corner of his eye. She was growing closer… closer… and then, she leapt.
Pet whirled, slapping the knife from his attacker's hand. Before she could react he swung his fist in a roundhouse punch, catching her on the chin, putting his full weight into it. The blow numbed his arm. The girl spun backward, stumbling, her arms flopping limply. He was certain he'd knocked her out. Unfortunately, she stayed on her feet and turned around to face him, her eyes full of hatred. She stood next to one of the decorative marble columns and placed one hand on it to steady herself. She used her other hand to wipe the blood from her mouth. Pet's eyes flickered over the bricks. Where had her knife flown to? If he turned his back on her…
Suddenly, a heavy flower pot dropped parallel to the marble column, crashing into the girl's head, smashing into a hundred fragments. The girl toppled sideways, her legs twitching.
Pet looked up. Androkom perched atop the marble pillar, his eyes wide with fear. "Watch out!" he shouted.
Pet spun to find the limping assassin barely a yard away. Her blade cut the air as Pet jerked away, the tip missing his throat by inches. His feet carried him backward, trying to open some space between him and the girl. Unfortunately, the enormous towel he was wrapped in wound up under his feet and he tripped, falling to his back. The girl loomed over him, raising her blade high.
Then, suddenly, her blade was gone, along with most of her hand. She lowered the stump of her wrist, staring at the blood jetting out with each heartbeat. She grew white as Pet's towel as her eyes fluttered up in her head. As she fell, Pet saw a familiar figure behind her.
"Jandra!" he yelled out. "There's a third one! Be careful!"
"Where?" said Jandra, her eyes scanning the room.
"She's behind that column," Androkom yelled, pointing with his wing.
Jandra crept toward the marble pillar as Pet found his footing. He cinched the towel up higher as he, too, approached the column, his eyes alert for any movement.
Rounding the column at a respectful distance, Pet found the final assassin sitting with her back to the marble, her legs splayed before her, her arms hanging limply by her side. She was shivering, and her skin had taken on a bluish cast. She held the black dagger loosely in her right hand.
"Drop the knife," Jandra said.
"She's dying," Pet said.
"I see that," Jandra said, sounding annoyed. Then, to the girl once more, "I can save your life. Just put down the knife."
The girl cocked her head toward Jandra, fixing her vacant, dying gaze upon her. A smile played briefly upon her lips. Her mouth moved as if she was saying something, but no sound came out, only a gush of fresh blood. With a final burst of strength, the girl raised her blade, grasped it with both hands, and plunged it into her left breast, burying it to the hilt.
Her head drooped as her arms fell to her side, a final sigh bubbling from her lips.
"These were servants of the Murder God!" Androkom shouted from his perch. "Suicide assassins! There could be a whole army of them!"
"Let's hope there's just the four," Jandra said, running to Shandrazel. "How long since he was stabbed?"
"Only a few minutes," said Pet. "Four assassins? I counted three."
"I killed one upstairs," she said as she ran her hands over Shandrazel's hide. "Where was he stabbed? I need to touch his blood."
"He was struck in the jaw," Androkom called out.
Jandra ran her hands along the line of his long, crocodilian jaw. "Found it!" she shouted as her fingers wriggled into the stab wound. "He's still alive," she said, seconds later. "I'll need a moment to find all the poison."
Pet stood over her, looking at himself reflected in her silver helmet. "This is a new look for you," he said. "I liked the tiara more. But the skirt does show off your calves."
"Can we discuss my wardrobe another time?"
Pet shrugged, then went back to check on the other two assassins. The girl who'd been hit by the flower pot was obviously dead, the top of her skull dented in. He moved to the second one, kneeling beside her. Blood no longer spurted from her wrist. He placed his fingers on her throat, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. She'd lost too much blood.
"Too bad we didn't take one alive," said Pet. "We could have found out what they're here for."
"Isn't it obvious?" Androkom said. "They're here to free the Murder God! Damn Shandrazel! I told him to kill that monster."
Shandrazel mumbled, his jaws barely moving, "I will… consider your counsel."
There was a commotion in the hall, the heavy slapping sound of earth-dragons running at full speed, their weapons and armor clattering. Two of them burst into the courtyard, shouting, "Sire! Sire!"
Shandrazel raised his head slowly, an effort that seemed to require all his strength. Jandra, her fingers still in his wound, looked almost as if she moved his head like some oversized puppet.