Page 37 of Blood Slumberm
The Gift Collector threw three blades from each hand in rapid succession.
Rudhira whipped his sword up, repelling all six with the flat of his sword. He laughed. “Cordium has grown lazy in my absence, I see. Try again.”
The necromancer drew a butcher’s knife. “The bounty on that red head of yours is the highest in history.”
“And it gets higher every time I kill one of you,” Rudhira replied with a fanged smile.
The necromancer leapt down from the dais to face the prince of the Hesperines.
The moment he turned his back on Troi, another aura emerged from Rudhira’s veil spells. Her presence washed over Troi like rain on his parched senses.
“Celandine,” he gasped. “You’re alive.”
Tears streaked the grime on her cheeks. “So are you.”
She took hold of Troi’s chains with bloodstained hands, her face hardening with determination. Without a distaff or spindle, she unraveled the malevolent magic from around him, and the chains fell to dust.
She ran her hands down his face and arms. “Did he hurt you?”
Troi shook his head, barely able to speak around his fangs. All his pain was from needing her.
The clash of blades echoed from Rudhira’s duel with the Gift Collector. Rudhira was clearly trying to drive the necromancer away from the dais, but their enemy kept circling, regaining his ground.
A flicker of light on steel caught Troi’s eye. “Celandine, behind you!”
He pushed her out of the blade’s path. A bleeding knife hurtled past her and landed in Troi’s chest. Necromancy and pain exploded across his ribs and lungs. He froze, not daring to move. How close was the cursed blade to his heart?
Celandine let out a cry of rage and snatched up her distaff, rounding the table. The Gift Collector ignored her, sweat trailing down his face as he focused on Rudhira. With a great heave, the necromancer swung a cursed chain at the Blood-Red Prince. The links spun around his blade, trapping his sword.
Through the pain needling his senses, Troi felt Celandine’s aura pulling on all the magic in the room.
The Gift Collector’s chain shattered. Surprise flashed on his hardened face. Rudhira’s blade swept down toward the necromancer’s neck. He threw himself out of the sword’s path.
And right into Celandine’s reach. She rammed the sharp end of her distaff into his chest.
He stared at her, his face frozen in shock. With another scream, she twisted the staff, driving it deeper.
The Gift Collector fell at her feet. She gave her staff one last shove into his corpse.
Rudhira lowered his sword. “I’m not sure you needed my help rescuing Troi.”
Blackness was growing at the edges of Troi’s vision, but he saw Celandine appear at his side again.
“Can you heal him?” she pleaded.
Rudhira’s aura came near. Royal healing power surged into Troi’s chest, driving back his pain. He felt nothing as Rudhira slipped the blade out of his chest.
Troi’s vision cleared, and he looked up at a greater prince than himself.
Rudhira smiled. “Good moon, Troi. It’s high time you woke up.”
“It’s high time you came to rescue me.”
A shadow passed over Rudhira’s face. “We came back for you every ten years. We kept trying to get through the spells. We had all but despaired of you.”
“I had despaired of myself until Celandine.” The pain in Troi’s chest was gone, but not even Rudhira’s healing spell had diminished his Craving. Troi had never been so happy to be in agony.
Rudhira’s brow furrowed, and his magic swept through Troi again. Astonishment softened the prince’s hard gray eyes. “Troi, you have a malady I cannot cure.”
