CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT—BLADES IN THE HOUSE

Shiro shook his head, orienting himself to his surroundings.

His sword.

Where is my sword?!

At the bottom of the stairs his naked blade lay still, glinting from the light of the glow rocks set within the sconce above it.

Rushing steps started approaching from downstairs. Shiro’s eyes widened and he scrambled down the steps for his blade.

“Shiro!” Ali called from above.

Glancing up, he saw Ali drop his scimitar. Catching it seemed easy.

Just as Shiro caught the sword by the hilt a guard came into Shiro’s view, moving incredibly slow as he stepped over Shiro’s katana.

He swung Ali’s blade, putting the cold hard metal into the man’s head. The guard jerked for a moment, then his body went limp and he fell.

Shiro wasted no time. He took his katana by the hilt and rushed back up the stairs, his sandals pounding on the marble steps. When he reached the top he flipped Ali’s scimitar over so the Abassir could take it by the hilt without getting cut.

“The lamp,” Ali said. “Go! I’ll watch the stairs.”

Feeling hesitant in leaving Ali there by himself, Shiro ran to where the lamp had landed. It was still there, but could he touch it without it sending a magical shockwave through him again?

Faridoon must have bewitched it!

“Ali!” he called. “I don’t know what to do!”

“Agh!” Ali hissed. “Gods! Neither do I, Shiro!”

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There were shouts on the stairs followed by clashing blades. A man cried out and the sound of a body thundering down the steps followed.

Shiro was staring at the lamp, but he glanced toward the stairs to find Ali still there, his scimitar dripping with blood.

“Well,” he said with a shrug, “that’s two guards down.”

“You!” a woman hissed from the stairs.

Shiro glanced up to find the woman who had been sleeping in the bed staring at him. She had robed herself, though barely. In her left hand was a dagger.

“Leave now or I will kill you!”

“Go back to your room!” Shiro shouted, but the stupid woman didn’t flinch.

Who is this woman?

When he had visited Faridoon at his personal residence in the past he had so many bed slaves it was impossible to tell any of them apart.

Was this woman one of them?

She came down the stairs, her bare feet slapping against the marble floor that shimmered with the reflected light from various glow rocks and fire lamps ensconced throughout the room.

Shiro stood, grabbed the woman by the wrist just as she pulled the knife back so she could stab him. She cried out as he tore the dagger from her grasp, then pushed her back.

“You devil!” she hissed.

Then she jumped atop him, her arms flailing.

“Shiro!” Ali called. “What are you doing?!”

Growling, he threw the woman off himself, but she was determined to stop or kill him for her lord. She charged him again, crying out and trying to scratch out his eyes with her bare hands.

“More are coming!” Ali shouted. “Shiro! I need your help! Hit that bitch and come here!”

Instead of hitting her, Shiro tossed her atop the lamp to see if the spell was still active. Upon touching the golden vessel, she shook and then went flying. She landed on the smooth marble, slid and hit the bannister.

She didn’t move after that.

Gods, Shiro thought. Stupid woman. I hope I didn’t kill her.

He couldn’t touch the lamp. Not now with that spell upon it. The woman, whoever she was, had landed on the lamp with the vessel touching her stomach through her robes.

It hadn’t touched her skin!

And still it had reacted to her.

Shiro rushed to the banister and glanced down. A man appeared with heavy robes slashed in purple and black, a metal staff with a massive pearl ensconced at the top.

“Jump!” Shiro yelled.

And then a sizzling bolt of energy jerked forth and exploded against the wall where Ali had been standing. The explosion cracked the plaster and rocks and put a large black hole there.

Ali glanced back at the damage. “Well,” he said, “that was lucky.”

Shiro nodded.

“What is happening with the lamp, Shiro?”

The mage had backed away, giving them a moment of respite.

And then shouting guards started stamping up on the plant-strewn veranda on the second level.