Page 44 of Hollow Court
I wokeup to a hand over my mouth.
Gwyn’s intense gaze bored into mine, evident by the low light of the lanterns. Blood rushed to my ears as the scrape of metal sounded at our door.
Someone was breaking into our room.
Half a heartbeat later, the familiar click of a lock sounded. I kept perfectly still, watching as the moonlight bounced off of the door handle. It dipped downward before the door itself was gingerly pushed open.
Gwyn curled up into my side, feigning sleep, but I knew she was silently reaching for one of the many blades she kept on her person at all times.
Whoever it was, they were skilled. The gentle clinking of keys muffled as our visitor tucked them into a pocket. The intruder shut the door noiselessly before creeping across the aged floorboards without a single scuff of their boots or groan of the wood.
No one tried to stop them, so either the two guards outside her door were complicit…or they had been silenced.
A flash of silver glinted above us. In a single fluid motion, Gwyn slipped from the covers and spun behind the man, covering his mouth with one hand while she restrained him with the other.
“Surprise, arsehole,” she taunted in a low tone.
His eyes did, in fact, widen in shock, probably as much because a woman had bested him with such ease as because that woman was clearly not Socairan.
I kicked his dagger out of his hand and it went flying across the floor, skittering to a halt just beneath the window. Gwyn pressed her knee to his lower spine, and he groaned behind her hand as he sank to the floor.
While she kept a hold on him, I drew my own dagger, cutting a couple strips from the blankets and using them to tie him up and gag him. Gwyn released him from her grip, pushing him none too gently until he was kneeling with his back against the wall.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, mock pouting down at him. “You were expecting someone else?”
As soon as she moved the gag to let him speak, the would-be assassin spit in her face. Before I could react, Gwyn’s fist connected with his jaw, snapping his head back with a resounding crack.
I held out a handkerchief. She reached out for it without taking her eyes off the man, wiping off her cheek and looking like she very much wanted to punch him again.
“Look at that.” I tutted. “You’ve already made her angry. I might be tempted to help rein in that legendary temper of hers if you tell me what the Uprising wants, or is it just death to Socairans?”
I was sure to speak in a tone that conveyed how very unimpressed I was by that idea.
He bared his teeth in a macabre smile, stained red with his blood.
“We want you gone. All of you,” he said meaningfully, looking from me to Gwyn.
This wasn’t just about Galina. It was about our family.
“Well, good luck with that,” my cousin shot back. “You would hardly be the first to try.”
I wanted to share in her confidence, but something in the man’s gaze gave me pause.Arrogance.This was not the look of a man cowed. It was the look of a man who knew something we didn’t.
He raised his eyebrows in a clear challenge, chewing viciously at the inside of his cheek. At least, that’s what I thought he was doing, until I heard a crack.
Had he broken his own tooth? Had Gwyn broken it when she punched him?
But when he smiled again, there was something more than blood running over his lips. Dread pooled into my stomach, an alarm sounding in my head.
“Cut his ties,” I told Gwyn.
She shot me a questioning look but did as I asked.
For all the good it would do.
“Too late,” he confirmed. “We’re closer than you think.”
He bit out each word in a rasp, a sharp contrast to his harsh, mocking tone from before.