Phoebe was gone in a flash of purple. The silks flew out behind her like smoke, swirling through the air and billowing in puffs. She streaked past the guards protecting the entrance to the lair so quickly that all four of them whipped around to look at us in confusion. I could hear the soles of her sandals slapping on the stone ground through the tunnel, echoing back to me and reassuring me that she was safe, at least for that moment.

Terrik bellowed a wordless shout, and I whirled around to face him just as he lunged. My daggers were out of their sheaths in a split second. The crimson geodes glowed red light into my palms, reminding me of blood, and I brought the blade slashing downwards in a cross. Terrik bellowed again, this time in pain, as he was sliced down his face exactly where his scar already was.

The A’li-uud behind him were on me faster than I could react. I felt a blade that was not mine slip across my neck, pressing into my skin and creating warmth where it drew blood. An arm was around me, holding me up against a beefy form, and I heard a voice in my ear speaking A’li-uud. “Move, and I will take your head off.”

I had never been good at following orders.

I swung my right arm up, and my fist connected with a temple. The knife in that hand met resistance against what was presumably a skull, and the henchmen shouted in my ear. He shoved me forward, knocking me onto my knees, but I rolled and was back on my feet in the blink of an eye. Terrik was bearing down on me now. The other two, both armed with thick knives identical to Terrik’s, advanced. If I was going to survive this, it would be a miracle.

Terrik jabbed forward, shoving the tip of his blade at me as if to spear me through the gut. I jumped back, but my heel caught on an uneven brick, and I fell again. This time, I was not so fast. I had only made it into a crouch before a body was thrown on top of me, crushing me to the floor beneath and driving every ounce of oxygen out of my lungs. It was the A’li-uud I had wounded. Dark blood was pouring from somewhere on the back of his head, dripping in rivulets down his neck and around to his front as he hovered over me. A droplet splashed on my cheek, staining me with his injury. He raised his knife, poising it over his head, and brought it careening down through the air toward my eye.

I did the only thing I could do: I stabbed. I brought my arm around and sent my dagger plunging into his spine, just above his tailbone. He fell forward onto me with the impact, and his roar of pain deafened me until the only thing I could hear was an incessant ringing. I pushed him off, sending his knife clattering across the floor, but was unable to stand before Terrik’s foot slammed into my ribs.

Again, all of the breath was knocked out of me. I grunted and tried to roll away before a second kick could be landed. I was not successful. His two cronies circled me, and one reached down and snagged his hand into my hair. He pulled, wrenching me up to my feet by my scalp, and I yelled in agony. Now standing, I was able to see Terrik’s face clearly. He was furious, absolutely seething, but there was still a measure of undeniable enjoyment hidden beneath his marred mask. The slices where my blades had cut into his face were thin and not nearly as deep as I would have liked, but beads of blood had formed along their trails and drizzled down to his chin. He looked more fearsome than I had ever seen him before.

“And here I thought you may have gotten wiser with age,” he remarked sarcastically. He was no longer speaking English, which made him more intimidating, but I was not frightened of him. On the contrary, I was just as angry as he was.

“I did,” I spat. “I was wise enough to walk away from the likes of you.”

“Not this time,” he jeered. He drew his arm back, wielding his knife, and sent it sailing down before me. The blade licked my face, stroking deep past my eye and down my cheek. I felt no pain until he pulled it away, and then I was riddled with it. I shouted, my face burning. I did not know if there was blood falling from the wound or even if he had just hit me and I had been so dazed I had thought he had cut me, but it mattered not. I was blinded with the agony.

“An eye for an eye,” he said delightedly. His grotesque mouth was twisted with glee, and I knew then that he had indeed cut me. I would now bear a scar like his.

Unless he killed me.

He drew the knife back again, but a hand suddenly appeared around his wrist. Terrik spun on the spot to see who interfered. Faro jammed his elbow into Terrik’s jaw. I heard a crack, but my eyes were still too blurry with pain to see clearly. I would not have known it was Faro who came to my rescue if I had not smelled the drink that accompanied him.

They scuffled, battling over the knife. The two cohorts holding me were shouting to Terrik, asking for direction. Terrik was too distracted to respond. He battled with Faro in a desperate attempt to keep his weapon, but the older, more experienced A’li-uud had the advantage.

“Let. Him. Go.”

Faro’s voice was deep, unyielding. He sounded more commanding than Terrik ever had, and I realized he had managed to wrangle the knife away and was now wielding it at Terrik’s throat.

“This does not concern you, old man,” Terrik snarled.

Faro did not deign the jibe with a response. “Let him go,” he repeated.

Silence fell. It was one of the few times I had ever heard silence in the lair. I could only assume all eyes were on us, though I could not be certain. Terrik’s breathing was heavy and labored, and I could hear frustration in his wheezy gasps. When it became clear that Faro had no intention of backing down, Terrik ceded to his will.

“Release him,” he snapped.

I was dropped immediately, my body falling to the ground like a doll. I scrambled up, and I lunged forward to snag my blade out of the back of the A’li-uud I stabbed. When I turned, Faro was still holding the sword to Terrik’s neck, but he spoke to me.

“Go now,” he ordered. “Find your human. Get out of here.”

Terrik laughed a menacing, evil laugh. “That human is mine,” he growled sadistically. His eyes burrowed into mine. “And so are you.”

Rage boiled into me. I cared not whether Terrik took issue with me, whether he wanted to seek me out to exact revenge, even if he wanted to call me “his” to sate his need for control. But to hear him say Phoebe was his infuriated me. I was blinded again, this time not by pain but by ire. I started to move toward him, my daggers held aloft, but Faro stopped me.

“I said go, boy,” he hissed. “You are better than this now.”

I was not so sure. Part of me wanted to rip Terrik limb from limb, carve the smugness right off his face. In fact, I actually fancied the idea of him finding me in the future solely so I could do just that. I stepped forward again, and Faro shot a warning look at me.

“Zuran,” he said persistently. “Your human is alone. Go to her. Ka-lik’et is not safe for her at night.”

As quickly as my desire to perform violent acts upon Terrik had arisen, it vanished at the thought of Phoebe. Without another word, I turned and fled from the lair.