In the darkness, Che drove in with her blade, with no time to think: I am killing another of my people. He was Rekef in her eyes, and that removed any trace of kindred. She ran him through without mercy.
Or that was the plan. The Beetle threw himself backwards but one arm was already sweeping for her swordblade. She felt the flat of her sword taken aside by his armoured forearm, and then he punched her with his other hand.
Even though he was moving backwards at the time, the blow hit far harder than it should have done, stopping her short with her head ringing. He followed up, grappling for her sword hand and driving a solid shoulder into her chest, knocking her backwards. She swung at him again but he was too close. The guard of her sword struck him in the face and gashed his cheek, and then he backhanded her hard enough to rattle her teeth. His fists were weighted with gnarls of bone about the knuckles, a Beetle's Art-given weapons.
She tried for distance, hoping to get him at the end of her sword again while ducking aside from his next blow. He did not give her a moment's peace, already grabbing for her wrist to get the sword off her. She cut his fingers once as he misjudged the distance, but even that did not slow him. His expression was implacable, a man performing a difficult but routine job.
I am really not a fighter. I forget that. She broke away sideways, hacking at his head, but he got an arm in the way. The blade bit into the leathers he wore under his Khanaphir clothes, but did not draw blood.
In the darkness of the far side, Thalric's hand flashed fire twice, three times. One of the men barrelling towards him abruptly tumbled out of the air. The other twitched aside at the first flash, and then was on him, faster than either of them was ready for. He had his sword out but Thalric skipped aside from it, and shoved an elbow painfully into the man's jaw. For a moment they were grappling, each trying to find a clear moment for either stab or sting. Then Thalric dragged his opponent down and drove a knee as hard as he could high into the man's ribs, at the point where the armour of the light airborne left off. He heard at least one crack, as the soldier hissed in pain and fell away. Thalric sent a stingbolt after him but it flew wide, the man's wings taking him back into the dark.
Running out of time. Thalric let his own wings lift him, and was scudding back towards the lamplight and towards the diminished enemy. The leader in the centre had a sword out now, Osgan kneeling at his feet. Thalric extended a hand towards him, and swooped in with all the speed he had.
In her own fight, Che stumbled back three paces where she had intended one, catching the man by surprise. For a moment she thought she had him. The Beetle was at her sword's end and she drove forward triumphantly. It had been a feint, though, to draw her out. He was already moving aside, after reading her perfectly. One solid hand smashed down on her wrist, the blade spinning clear of her numbed fingers. The other slammed for her jaw, but hit her shoulder instead, hard enough to take her off her feet.
She landed flat on her back, momentarily unable to suck in breath, one hand scrabbling uselessly across the slimy floor for a sword that was well out of reach. The Beetle dropped on her, planting a knee solidly between her breasts. He had his own sword out now, held point down. In a swift, businesslike motion, he raised it to stab her in the throat.
A metal ball bounced and rolled nearby. The Beetle man hurled himself away from it with instinctive fear, whilst Che just stared. Only later did she realize that he must have thought it was a grenade.
The sphere suddenly clicked open, its top half sliding into the underside to reveal the dancing flame of an oil lamp. A quisitor's lamp for exploring caves and ruins, Che recognized it. It was a common enough toy in the markets of Collegium. But who?
The Beetle man had come to the same realization, as Che thought, Well, we're both lit up like a bonfire now.
She heard the solid crunch of the crossbow bolt, as it took the man in the small of the back and split two inches out of his chest. His face at last wore an expression, although it was hard to categorize. He dropped.
She cast a moment's glance towards the Wasps, and saw Thalric swoop into the lamplit circle and kill one of the soldiers there with a single blast of his hands. The other Rekef spread out, as if trying to get clear of their leader, but Thalric's palm was now right in line with Sulvec's forehead. They froze, waiting for orders, while Sulvec locked eyes with Thalric. He had one hand on Osgan's collar. The other held the sword directed at his prisoner's neck.
'Let him go.'
'Give it up, Thalric,' Sulvec said. 'Marger, take his sword.'
'Not a move,' Thalric warned, and Marger stopped, his own hands ready to sting.
Sulvec smiled.
Che had stared at them for far too long before going for her own sword. Even as her fingers touched it a boot kicked it down the hall. She found herself looking up into the face of Accius the Vekken.
'What …?' she said, utterly thrown. There was nothing readable in his expression. With a deft motion he scooped up the quisitor's lamp and flicked it shut.
He grabbed her, finding her in the darkness by simple memory. Even as she recoiled instinctively, he had grasped her sleeve and yanked her towards him, off balance. His arm was about her throat, tight enough to hurt. She pried at it, but it was like iron. Ant-kinden strength. Even putting all of her weight on it there was not an inch of give.
'Thalric!' she got out, a strangled squeak. 'Help!'
But as the cry rang out, it was Osgan that moved. He abruptly lunged upwards, his head striking directly under Sulvec's chin. For a moment he was free. A stingbolt lanced over his shoulder, and Thalric returned the favour with both hands, making the Wasp soldiers scatter and scorching Marger's arm.
Sulvec snarled furiously. His shot at Thalric was close enough to singe his hair. His other hand drove towards his prisoner.
The blade sank into Osgan's gut, all the way to the hilt.
Thalric felt it as though it was plunged in him too, the sudden severing of his hopes. Not after all this! Not after the swamps, after dragging him across the city, all that thought in a fractured second. Osgan gasped, eyes wide, dropping to his knees with blood welling about the sword-hilt. Thalric had seen wounds like that, had inflicted a few. They were agony, and they meant death in almost every case, and never a quick one.
He bared his teeth, torn. He heard Che cry out again, more distant now. Don't make me choose- The stingshots began to burst around him. He made an abortive move towards Osgan, felt one shot sear a line of fire across his leg. His own hands were blazing, aimed he did not care where.
Che.
He let his wings spring to life and hurl him backwards into the dark, after her. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. He was Thalric, loyal to those who served him and obeyed his orders. He did not abandon them. But Che, I can't leave Che.
Into the utter dark he went, and heard Sulvec bellow for his men to give chase. The crackle of stingshot was all around him. He risked a look back and saw two men coming for him. To hell with the darkness. He gave his wings their rein, keeping to where he imagined the centre of the hall was, hands outstretched for the walls. The blue fires are ahead, yet not so far ahead, and Che will see me coming. She will see me and warn me.
Marger had darted off after Thalric, as had one of the others. The second soldier crouched by the writhing Osgan, ludicrously looking as though he was checking that the man was all right.