The attack was swift and sudden, armored figures bursting through the door in the back, the covered windows to the sides, and a full three of them through the front door. All of them carried weapons, shortswords, axes, maces.

All rusty, Samuel noted, and... was that some dirt clinging to the inside of that mace's spikes?

These were the thoughts going through Samuel's head as one of the zombies swung a brutal blow at him and he was forced to dodge.

A cry caused him to look over at Milton, who had been surrounded by four of the armored warriors. His compatriot had pulled a wicked looking short club from somewhere, and swung it at the knee of one of the warriors, but it was easily blocked and all four of them swung brutal blows down at the man. The first set of blows sent him to the ground. The second ended any thought that Milton may still be alive in Samuel's mind.

Samuel quickly pulled the blade from his pocket, his sharp mind analyzing the situation. They had been found out, and Ustral forces were going to put him down. The soldiers had not even asked for surrender, so it was unlikely he'd gain anything other than a swift death from that route. There were too many to beat, and he was neither armed nor trained to take on five armored warriors at once.

Samuel dodged the next attack from the warrior in front of him which was... slow. It had nothing like it's characteristic brutal speed when it initially attacked. It looked like it was trying to... grab him? Awkwardly? It smacked him with the flat of it's axe, but Samuel took advantage of it's slow speed and ripped his blade through the tendons of the soldiers axe arm, who surprisingly made no sound at all in response to the vicious injury.

As the axe fell from the soldiers hand Samuel swept past him and ducked, cutting into the back of the soldiers boots, forcing him to his knees, again peculiarly without any sound, when the soldiers arm speared backwards and grabbed Samuel's arm, and hurled him against the wall in front of them.

Samuel impacted with a thud, and he felt his spine crack and snap in response. He looked up at the soldier in front of him, unsteadily standing up, Samuel's knife apparently not having bitten deep enough.

Samuel jammed his right hand down into his pocket and flung it out to the soldier in front of him, sending the mix of sand, pepper, silver and iron filings into the visor of the man's helmet, before bolting for the door as the man scratched at his helmet, finally undoing the straps and letting it fall.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Samuel had a split second to gasp at what he saw, the rotted face of what was unmistakably a zombie in front of him.

And then he was out the door and running down the hallway. He spotted the broken remains of the outer door in front of him, where the zombies must have bashed it in, and he skidded to a halt.

“There must be more watching the exits...” Samuel muttered to himself, and went back to the middle of the hallway. He heard the zombies coming for him, but he forced himself to calm down and ran his hands along the seam in the wall, feeling the click as the hidden panel slid forward and back, he squeezed himself into the space between the walls, and slid the panel back. He heard the zombies once more stomping down the hall, and held his breath. He had expected shuffling but the zombies were now moving like they had when they first broke in, brisk and forceful, without grace, but also not exactly clumsy. Purposeful. Not like they had when they started trying to capture him.

Hearing their footsteps retreat Samuel began shimmying along through the the innards of the house. In his mind he was putting together what had just happened.

One, someone had found the safehouse. There were no operatives in the city besides him and Milton, and Milton had more to lose than he did. So how had they found it?

'The crystal ball, must have been for the princess, Elaina, she's a seer... she must have sensed the mirror... and hijacked it!' Samuel said, subvocalizing to himself, a trick he learned to help sort through information without giving himself away.

'What about the soldiers though? The undead? That's hasn't been done in Ustral for at least a century, maybe more, not since the queen's father... and you need talent in both healing magic and dark magic in order to... I see, Vincent. Your mother is going to be very cross with you. Oh yes...' Samuel thought and said to himself, as he reached the narrow hole into the escape tunnel. Milton had thought him paranoid to put such a tunnel in place, but paranoia, as it turns out, is an asset to a spy.

Thinking about Milton made Samuel frown.

'What am I going to do now?' he thought to himself.

'Communications with my employers have been disrupted, my handler is dead, I am being hunted by one of the more ruthless and effective leaders of this country, who is currently with his fiance, who by all accounts appears to be a powerful diviner who can see what I am doing at any time and possibly what I am going to do... which means if I make any long term plans she might be able to pick them out... but she hasn't seen me yet which means she has some limits.'

Samuel dropped down into his escape tunnel and splashed into the sewage.

'Gods it's going to take forever to get the smell out.' He said to himself as he trudged down the underground.