As soon as her mother closed the door, Everna began rummaging through the chests. Cobwebs and dust filled the first. A half-finished manuscript, and a half-eaten loaf of bread sat at the bottom of another. In the third, she found a set of lock picks and an odd-looking metal rod. Forged of silver and set with a ruby in the ends, it radiated magic so powerful it numbed her hands. Shoving it into the leather belt wrapped around her waist, she went through the last two chests. In one she found a set of robes, from which she took the mask and pulled it over her face. The final chest contained a poor healing potion, the shimmer of the amber liquid not as vibrant as the ones Leah brewed, and a Shadowguard badge.

Frowning, Everna took the badge into her hands, her fingers tracing the outline of the sword embossed over the shield. Was there a mole in Shadowguard? Or had Shroud taken out one of their agents and kept it as a keepsake? Regardless, Everna pulled aside the top of her armor and pinned it to the underside, as she'd seen Lisette do. It sat flush against the top of her breast, warm with the gentle touch of magic.

Peeking beneath the pillows, as her mother once claimed there were many things hid beneath them, she found nothing but an unenchanted dagger and a meager coin purse. She took the dagger. There was nowhere to put the coin purse, and she didn't need the racket it would make.

With nothing else to rifle through, she pulled the rod free once more and inspected it. The bottom ruby shifted beneath her finger. It wasn't loose, per se, but meant to move. Curious, she pressed her thumb against it. A bolt of white-hot fire shot from the other end, startling her. It struck the thin pillow on the nearest bunk. In a flash of white light, and with a burst of charred feathers, the pillow vanished.

Eying the pillow warily, she removed her thumb from the ruby and kept the opposite end of the rod pointed away from her. She knew what it was now; her mother had a similar rod, though more ornate and adorned with sapphires, perched on a rack above her vanity along with several others she had collected over the years. Disintegration. How convenient.

The magic emulating from the rod wasn't as strong as when she first picked it up. Unsure of how long it might take to replenish, Everna decided not to test it further. She may yet need what magic remained.

Deciding enough time had passed, Everna placed her thumb over her ring, which wasn't as easy with a dagger clutched in her hand, and started for the door. Just as she reached for the handle, the lock clicked. Cursing under her breath, she spun the ring on her finger and took several careful but hasty steps back as the door swung open.

Her heart sputtered to a halt as Landen stepped into the bunk room, fuming. Another agent strode in behind him, dark robes swirling as they passed. They paid the bodies, still lying in a careless heap on the floor, no mind.

As she inched towards the door, Landen flung a chest open. "Someone's been in here."

"I still cannot believe a lowly tavern wench outsmarted you," the other agent said, her voice tight with contempt. She spoke with an Anwellian accent, though far more refined than Vina's. "I should have left you in your cell and at Godwin's mercy for your incompetence. This is twice now you've failed to secure her."

"Because your agents in Windhollow did so much better.” Landen slammed the lid of the chest closed and moved onto the next. "How did your Enforcer get their head taken off by a lowly tavern wench, hm?"

"Even a blind troglodyte finds a gem every once in a while," the woman said. "'Twas but a fluke, and nothing more."

Everna took a step towards the door. Then another.

Landen scoffed. "Was it a fluke when she evaded the Courts? When she escaped Windmore? She's smarter than you idiots gave her credit for. I warned you about that."

"You call others foolish, yet you went into her cell, fully armed and with the keys. And where do I find you? Locked in that same cell with your legs bound in shackles."

"You—"

On the third step, her heel caught on a body, and she stumbled. Her hand shot out, reaching for something to steady herself. The blade of her dagger struck the stone. Landen and the agent whirled.

"Perhaps she's not so bright after all," the woman said, chuckling. "Hello, dear. We've been looking for you."

"Well, you found me," Everna said as she flung the rod out in front of her and pushed her thumb into the ruby once more. "How unfortunate."

Landen shoved the agent into the magical bolt and dove for cover behind a nearby bunk. The agent shrieked, the sound echoing off the stone walls before coming to an abrupt halt. With a burst of embers, and the stench of burnt flesh, the tattered remains of her empty robes fluttered to the floor.

"A fluke, my ass," Landen snorted. He peered at Everna from beneath the lowest bunk, his face half hidden by the wooden frame. "You're going to kill me too, aren’t you?"

"Perhaps, if you quit being such a coward and give me a clear shot at your head," she said, her voice laced with false delight.

He laughed. "You should've run by now, sweetheart."

The rod went cold in her hands, its magic depleted. She bit back a curse. Damn her curiosity; if she hadn't wasted the first shot on a pillow, she'd have one left.

"If it's so safe, why are you still hiding?"

"Because you missed something when you pilfered my belongings."

A flash of metal appeared beneath the bed. Then, a bolt of blinding white, the color very similar to the glow that encased her dagger, leapt out at her from beneath the bed. She ducked out of the way, her foot once again catching on the corpse, and stumbled. The bolt sailed past her face, a glancing blow, and struck the far wall.

Landen lunged.

Her mother was right about the armor. Landen’s first strike, delivered by a black-bladed dagger, bounced harmlessly off Everna’s thigh as she scrambled to her feet. The second narrowly missed her heart, the tip of his blade skimming across the top of her breasts. She easily dodged the third attempt.

The fourth strike, however, came from his fist. He struck her in the face and she stumbled, pain blossoming along her jaw. His knee caught her in the stomach a second later.

Landen didn't give her a chance to recover. He seized her by the hair, fingers snagging in her tangled waves, and flung her into the post of a nearby bunk. She hit hard, the air rushing from her lungs.

"That's a pretty little set of armor you have there," he cackled. "Makes your ass look good."

She slammed into the post again as his foot connected with her rear. Stars danced across her vision. Blood gushed from her nose as it struck the post, spilling down her face and onto her chin.

It occurred to her then, just how lucky she was over the past few months. She escaped nearly every fight relatively unscathed, either by chance or convenient intervention. This time, she had none of that. She was alone, her family and Wil likely well on their way to Godwin, and severely outmatched.

Landen seized her by the hair again and hauled her against him, pulling her head back as far as her neck allowed. His other hand came around the front, diving beneath her top. She flung her curled fist back, aiming for the junction between his legs, but her hand bounced harmlessly off his thigh.

Landen's fingers closed around the badge pinned to the underside and ripped it free. "Now, what were you planning to do with this? Call your little sweetheart for help?"

She should've thought of that sooner. She'd forgotten Shadowguard's badges had that capability. Damn it all.

Everna dove her heel into the junction between the top of his foot and his ankle as she brought her dagger up and swiped at the hand in front of her. He jerked away from the blade, growling. As if she weighed nothing at all, he hauled her towards the wall and drove her head into the stone.

This time, the entire night sky appeared before her as her vision went black and returned a few seconds later. Her teeth clashed together, her lip caught between them. A sharp ringing settled over her ears.

Fighting through the daze, she made a clumsy jab at the hand buried in her hair. It connected, Landen's grip tightening further. Then the ground dropped from beneath her. Rough sheets brushed against her face, her knees colliding with solid wood as she struck the side of a bunk.

Landen laughed again, the sound distant, as if echoing through a long hallway. Everything hurt. Her nose ached, the taste of blood heavy on her tongue. The world spun as she pushed herself off the bed, wobbling on her feet.

"Godwin wanted the pleasure of breaking you," he said, sauntering towards her, though it looked as if he too was wobbling. "But I think he can wait a few minutes, eh, sweetheart?"

Her gaze fell on the thin trail of blood trickling down his finger. On his other hand, a thin weeping line tread across his knuckles. Then she lifted her aching head, her eyes narrowing. His eyes were cloudy, not with depraved lust, but fluttering with exhaustion, as if he could barely keep himself awake. He took a step towards her, teetering precariously on one foot before he found the ground.

She glanced at the dagger, relief bubbling within her chest. Bless Wil and his impeccable timing. And gods bless his forethought.

Landen jerked his head to the side, as if throwing off the spell. Perhaps he had; he seemed steadier on his feet as he took another step towards her. His eyes were no longer clouded with sleep, but fury.

"Well, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"I still have a few tricks up my sleeve," she said, spitting blood. Her mouth felt funny, her lips swollen. Split, she realized when she tried to smile and her skin twinged in protest.

Her training with Wil may not have improved her blade work, but it had improved her constitution. Wil hit hard, perhaps not as hard as he could, but she'd grown accustomed to heavy blows over the last few weeks. He pushed her to the fringes of her limits each time, the sessions slowly lengthening as she regained the endurance she lost after four years of idleness. Her body ached, surely, but not enough for her to give in just yet.

She rushed forward, catching him in the chest with her shoulder. Landen, not at all expecting the assault, stumbled. He tripped over a body on the floor, sending them both crashing into a heap.

The same haze that gripped her mind in Windhollow once again took hold. Her veins were alight with absolute fury, the familiar buzz of adrenaline coursing through her. This depraved son of a bitch deserved everything coming for him, just as the agent in Windhollow had.

Without thinking — with no regard for skill or finesse — she raised the dagger and slammed it down onto him. The first blow caught him in the chest, just beneath his collar. He jerked, his hands flying to hers to block the second strike. His legs flailed and his hips bucked, trying to remove her.

He missed.

The cloudiness appeared in his eyes once more as his fingers fumbled past the blade as she brought it down again, carelessly hitting his shoulder. Another blow caught him in the jaw, the edge of the dagger grazing his neck. The following struck him somewhere in the other shoulder.

His arms dropped as the fifth hit impaled him between his ribs. If he was lucky, she'd miss his lung. If she were lucky, she'd hit it.

On the sixth, his eyes slid closed.

With the seventh, his body slacked.

Groaning, Everna rolled off of him and onto the floor. Her chest heaved as she struggled to fill her lungs with air, her heart thundering in her chest. The ringing in her ears dimmed, the sharp whine now little more than a dull drone. She spat out a mouthful of blood and wiped her face on her arm.

After a few moments, she staggered to her feet and made for the chest with the potion. Ignoring the stench, which was absolutely appalling compared to the honey-scented potions Leah brewed, she popped the cork and chugged. It tasted like chalk and mixed herbs. The barest traces of magic emanated from the bottle.

Leah's potions worked in a matter of seconds. This one took half a minute to set in. It was a slow process, the pain ebbing bit by bit. The ache in her skull dimmed, and the blood ceased spilling from her nose.

She leaned down, snatched Shadowguard's pin from the floor beside Landen, and fastened it into place once more. Pointedly stepping on his hand, she made for the door, plucking the rod off the ground as she went. Situating it in her belt once more, she stepped into the hall.

Fury

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