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June ducked, a shiny, silver-plated knife stuck in the stone where his head had just been. Thanks be to the damned gods for all the years spent combat training. If there was one thing his mother actually did good at, it's for training him to have fast reflexes.
Cracks groaned as they webbed from the point of impact. The bright gray sheen brought back unpleasant memories. This couldn't be...
He skittered sideways, as another knife whistled for him. It embedded itself a few inches from the first one. Alright, time to run. He couldn't deal with this right now. Or ever. He swung Xanthy across his back, wincing as it put a strain on his wounded arm.
"This seems to be my lucky day," April Sylkrana, his half-sister, strode into view, smiling like a krou poised to strike. "Not only will I get to kill you, but I will also have retrieved the Virtakios too."
June forced his tongue to unlatch from the roof of his mouth. "Who are you working for?" he said, recalling a piece of random information that April worked with Cardovia in Dwanzeig in an attempt to find him.
April shrugged, her metal shoulder pads clinking against her bevor. "The Synketros has been helpful so far. But I might dispose of them later on."
June cursed. Fool. Nobody disposes of these organizations. They dispose of you. Still, it's not his job to worry about April. Let her do the hell she wanted. Right now, he should run. Finding answers about what happened to Xanthy should be his priority. To do that...he needed to find Nyxis or any other of Xanthy's friends, wherever they may be.
He couldn't very well do any of that if he's going to die here.
His eyes landed on the window to his right. Thank the gods that these demoted nobles thought that having floor-to-ceiling windows would elevate their status in life. He just had to figure out a way to distract April and destroy the window at the same time. Piece of haagen.
April stalked closer, eyes flicking here and there. She's studying June, trying to see into his mind if he's coming up with something funny. Well, he was. He just needed to be quick with it. Well...now.
April's lips parted in shock as June slung Xanthy over his shoulder and shouted two consecutive spells with hands pointed at April and at the window. They exploded—the window in a shower of glass and April in a bunch of feathers.
June bit his lip to avoid laughing as a white vulkraine clucked in angry hisses in April's place. He braced Xanthy's back and winced as pain slammed into his arm once again. He stared at the fresh fountain of blood running down his limb. Oh, he tore his wound open.
The vulkraine growled—a sound uncharacteristic to those fowls—but it sounded like nails screeching against a wooden plank in June's ears. He leaped out from the window, gave April an acknowledging nod, and took to the streets. His cloak settled over his shoulders; his hood draped low over his face. His footsteps echoed against the road lightly dusted with rocky debris and mud. Hitching breaths tore from his chest. The disfiguration spell would not last long, especially on the likes of April. He needed to find somewhere to hide. Somewhere...
