Page 37 of The King has Fallen
“Do notshushme, I amtryingto help you,” he snapped. “There must be some way—”
“I said,hush!Shut up and use those battle-honed instincts because something is afoot—unless you want it provenagainthat I am superior?” I whispered, letting my eyes scan the tent slowly, but there was nothing.
I kept looking back at that tent flap, but the only movement was the air fluttering the loose canvas…
Melek prickled. But stopped lecturing me.“What?”He asked through gritted teeth.
I shivered. “I can sense… something… someone is close. Who would be out at this time of the night?”
His hands clenched to fists at his sides, but he turned, frowning, to scan the tent behind him. “There will always be movement. There are Nephilim all over the camp, and always patrols—”
“No, no. Not your hulking flesh. Something walks the shadows tonight,” I whispered.
He followed my gaze as I swept the tent again, frustrated because there wasnothing.But relieved when Melek’s frown deepened and he didn’t dismiss me again. Instead, he trotted to the side of the tent where he’d undressed and discarded his weapons, picking up one of the spears and holding it prepared for battle. Then he crossed to the doorway and used the point to push aside the flap just barely, to peer out.
After a few moments, he shook his head. “Don’t move,” he muttered, then slipped outside in a surprising show of stealth. For such a large man, he moved light and quick.
I waited barely breathing, listening. I thought I heard his passage once, when he was at the end of the tent, behind where his bed was placed. But then nothing.
Moments later the tent flap pushed aside and he strode in, frowning. “Nothing. There’s no one out there. Were you just trying to distract me from—”
The shadow seeped in behind him, barely making the tent flap flutter, so subtle I almost missed it. But as he came striding towards me, I leaped to my feet.
“Melek,behind you!”
13. Living Shadows
SOUNDTRACK:Looking at the Devilby Seibold, Neutopia, and Leslie Powell
~ MELEK ~
I whirled, bringing the spear up instinctively, yet barely brought it to bear in time to stop the dagger flashing towards my back.
With a grunt, I whipped the handle of the spear up to push that blade up and away, but my adversary’s movements were quick.
I’d barely blocked one blow when another came and there was never a moment to bring my own blade to bear, to stage an attack and put my foe on the defensive.
Once, twice, three times I defended against a new slash—with only a hairsbreadth of space before that blade would slide between my ribs, or across my shoulder.
Yilan was hissing warnings, but there was no space in my head to even take in the words as every instinct for combat I’d ever honed as a warrior, every defensive reflex, took over. Somehow, impossibly, I kept that blade at bay, but everything in my headscreamedthat something was wrong.
With a long-handled weapon I should not have such trouble defeating a dagger—yet somehow, impossibly, I couldn’tquitesee my foe.
He had the form of a tall man—though trim and wiry—still a foot shorter than me. But it was as if his every existence was shrouded in shadow. Even when he moved, I couldn’t keep eyes on him, my gaze sliding sickeningly past each time I tried to focus and anticipate his next move.
I took a step back to give myself more room to maneuver, to bring the spear head to bear, but found myself still defending a volley of stabs and slashes. If I was even half a second slower on any of them—
I had the presence of mind on the next defense, to turn my wrist, and as I blocked, in that split second that my spear handle connected with his blade, I twirled and flipped the spear, sending it in an arc that rang against the assassin’s wrist.
There was a hissed curse, and the flash of that dagger flying through the air, the light from the lantern gleaming on it.
I smiled and took a firmer hold on the spear, ready to take action—then was forced to shove it aside to block a second dagger he’d already drawn and stabbed straight for my throat.
What the hell was he, and how did he move like a striking snake?
“Focus on the weapon, not on him—he can’t affect that!” Yilan
There wasn’t time to think, but I tried to do as she said, and kept my eyes fixed on the blade rather than trying to read the adversary. And for a time it worked.
