My Sister Is The Villainess

The five soldiers charged.

They did not run, rather they jumped and all at once, all I saw was five huge golden shapes arcing over the heads of the front rank and landing in the middle of the rebels like boulders dropped into a pond.

The floor cracked under their feet.

Dharum!

Rebels were thrown in every direction because of the shockwave.

One of the guests, a broad man with a scarred face, did not run. Indeed, he was brave.

He swung an obsidian morning star at the nearest creature with sincerity, a heavy spiked ball on a chain, and used his whole body’s force and mass.

The creature caught it with one bare hand without any worry.

It stood there, smiling.

It was a cruel, wide smile that did not belong on a face with no eyes.

Then it closed its fingers, and the black glass shattered into dust that drifted to the floor like soot.

The man stared at his empty hand.

The creature waited for a moment before it kicked him in the stomach.

I heard every rib break. I heard it over the screaming. The man folded around the blow and flew backward ten feet, landing in a heap that did not move.

A woman nearby grabbed his collar and tried to drag him back, but another golden shape landed beside her, and the floor trembled under its weight. She let go and ran. I did not blame her. Nobody could have.

My eyes went wide and my throat went dry.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Saud fired again.

This time, everyone who could duck ducked.

Ten people did not, however.

Bullets went through them in short, neat arcs, and they dropped, screaming, clutching shoulders and thighs and ribs.

Blood spattered across the iron gates and ran down the black metal in long red streaks.

I searched the chaos, frantic.

Looking for two people: Sera and Charolette.

I found them in the same breath. Sera stood a few paces to my left with Puppeteer on her shoulder, white-faced but unhurt.

Charolette was crouched behind a toppled bench, her sword drawn, her eyes burning. They were alive. They were both alive.

I let out a ragged breath.

It did not last.

The creatures were tearing the rebels apart.

They moved like avalanches, fast and heavy and unstoppable, and every blow they threw was a killing blow.

If this continued, there would be nothing left of our army in less than a minute. The guests would be dead, and the soldiers who had turned, and every piece of the plan.

Beside me, Sera did something I did not expect.

She slid a small gold whistle between her lips and blew.

It was called Sun’s Grace.

The sound was not loud, but it was bright.

It felt as if the sun itself had been born inside the palace. A wash of warm gold light poured across the corridor, so pure and fierce that I flinched. Every shadow in the hall shrank to nothing. The torches paled.

It was a weapon that would have made any Unorthodox creature scream and burn.

She was testing them.

The golden creatures stopped for one breath. They turned their eyeless faces toward the light.

Then they went back to killing.

Sera lowered the whistle. Her jaw clenched. It had not touched them.

Whatever they had become, they were not creatures of the Realm of Evil, and the sun had no power over them.

’Of course it did not,’ I thought bitterly. ’Nothing is ever easy.’

I did the only sensible thing I could.

I looked around and I counted and I thought.

The strongest body on our side belonged to Theodore. He had a ring that enhanced his strength and fists that could crack stone.

I met his dry gaze across the corridor and jerked my chin toward the monsters. He tilted his head, shrugged, and cracked his knuckles. A thin line of blood already glittered on them.

Sera had Puppeteer, and Puppeteer could strike a mind directly. Against something that had lost its eyes and its humanity, the mind might be the only soft thing left.

I looked at her and nodded. She nodded back, her face hard.

Charolette’s starlight could punch rays through almost anything. I found her through the smoke, held her eyes for half a second and tilted my head toward the golden bodies. She gave me the smallest smile and rose from behind the bench like a blade.

And Arthur. Arthur had his book, the one that could stitch a torn body back together through poetry. If any of the others fell, he would be the only reason they got up again. I caught his eye. He swallowed once, hard, and hugged the book to his chest.

Four of them. Five monsters.

They were the best I had.

It was not a plan. It was a prayer with names attached. If even one of them failed, I would be carrying that too, on top of the nineteen, and the ten, and the old man on the stairs.

Then I turned to the rest of the corridor. Lee had finally caught up, dragon scales gleaming, a smear of soot across his cheek and the big sword already in his hands. Mary stood beside me, calm and pale, her blade held loose.

I jerked my head toward the gates.

With me.

They came without a word.

Behind us, the corridor erupted.

Theodore’s roar. The crack of Charolette’s rays. The shriek of Puppeteer. I did not look back. I could not. Every second I wasted was another body on the floor.

My legs burned. But I kept my hand on Fury, and Lee’s breath was steady beside me, and Mary’s footsteps made no sound at all.

Saud stood in front of the black gates, revolver raised, watching us come with that thin, patient smile.

We had to defeat him fast. Only then could we get to Culex.

And the clock was running.