Read Out of Exodia for Free Online Page B

The
adrenaline that gushes through my veins adds a colored haze to my
vision and meets the heat that flushes me with shame. But I will not lose her . And
in the instant that I bear the awful ebbing of life from this poor
man’s body I see the letters of my simple promise move across a
mental screen. They flutter like violet colored symbols that change
into the phrase till we honor lies then fade into a lusty red that burns into my
brain and changes again. The final phrase foretells a useful
stratagem: slit in lower
hole . I trust this unlikely clue as if it
held a solemn promise. I know it will lead me to Lydia.
    * * *
    Lydia wiped away her tears and bolted
upright when she heard someone unbar the door. Amal held his finger
to his lips and gently pressed the door into place. He stuck a
yellow orb on the wall and gave it a turn; it began to glow, giving
enough light in the small room for Lydia to perceive the intention
in his eyes.
    “ What’s your name, pretty
one?” Amal kept his distance, opened his hands palms up, and raised
his eyebrows.
    Lydia wasn’t fooled by his innocent
act. She considered screaming since he seemed to want her silent,
but a second thought gave her a better plan.
    “ I’m Lydia,” she began. She
worked a quavering sigh into her voice and moved her hands in
helpless gestures, waving them at her head and stomach as she
rambled as fast as she could. “I must look a mess. My hair. Oh, my
clothes. This … this is not my best look. Let me comb my hair.” She
went off on a tangent about dirt and snarls in her hair, the smell
of horse, her need for soap and water, clean clothes, anything she
could think of as she rose from the floor and slipped her hand into
the belt sack to retrieve the sharp metal comb.
    “ Pretty enough.” Amal took
a step closer.
    Lydia drew the comb through the ends of
her hair, keeping the tail of the comb hidden along her wrist.
Amal’s face contorted into an obvious leer and he took another
step, lowering his arms, unaware of his own
vulnerability.
    * * *
    The flash bang has alerted my fellow
Reds. I can hear them running my way. I backtrack a few yards and
retrieve the foot-long section of rod, grip it like a club and run
toward the guard who dropped from the tree. If he’s not dead I’ll
have to strike him or break his neck.
    His body is sprawled beneath the tree.
No pulse. I search him as I did the other one and only find the
whistle and signal light. I stuff them both in my second belt sack.
Like the other guard he has no weapon. I don’t understand why these
people would post men to watch for us and not arm them.
    The Reds are halfway here. I scan the
area. Is this a trick? Could all the men and horses and the rest of
their people be huddled in that single building?
    I climb the tree and look
around from the guard’s perch. I see my people stumbling down the
slope, their lights bobbing. I climb higher still and squint in all
directions. There are dots of light scattered upon the earth
between my people and me and beyond toward the single building.
Small round lights blush upward in sly shades of pink or gold.
Holes. Slits in the earth. An underground city. My pulse
quickens. I will not lose
her . I look for a hole that is lower than
the others and spot its faint yellow glow.
    * * *
    As soon as Amal stepped into range
Lydia brought her knee up hard against his groin. He grunted and
doubled over. She stabbed at him, aiming for the soft tissue of his
neck, but instead slashing across his skull when he jerked
downward. Blood gushed from the head wound. Lydia circled toward
the door and held the comb up, ready to gouge at his eyes with the
pointed end that was now red to the hilt. Amal lifted his head and
straightened up slowly, keeping a wary eye on her.
    Suddenly the ceiling shook and they
both looked up. A second tremor followed the sound of glass
breaking. Amal shook his head and sneered as if a punctured
skylight was a common problem. Lydia felt for the door