The Iron Butterfly (Iron Butterfly #1)

The Iron Butterfly (Iron Butterfly #1) Page 3

Kael, who I thought was unconscious, moved in a flash and grabbed the knife from the guard’s belt. He thrust the blade upwards into the guard’s throat, sinking the blade in to the hilt. Pulling it out, the guard released Kael's arm and fell to the ground choking, his life ebbing away.

Before the guard even hit the ground, Kael had gained his footing and slashed at the man holding his other arm, slicing in a downward arc and forcing the other guard to release him.

The rear guard rushed him while swinging his short sword at Kael. The difference in the two blade sizes made Kael look like he was playing with a toy.

Kael jumped back, missing the swing of the short sword, as he adjusted the weight of his confiscated knife in his hand. When the sword swung at him again, Kael ducked and took the brunt force of the sword handle on his shoulder. Wrapping his hand around the rear guard’s arm, he swung the handle of the knife into the man's temple, knocking him unconscious.

Scar Lip screamed obscenities at the last guard, “Grab him, you fool! What are you doing? Hit him! Don’t let him up!” all the while keeping a safe distance.

But Kael was bleeding from his shoulder wound, and he was still outnumbered two to one and tiring quickly. The second guard, also bleeding from a slash on his arm, carefully stalked Kael; trying to push him back toward his opened cell. He pulled out a knife from his boot and picked up the dead guard’s knife. There was no way Kael could take out the guard with two knives unless he threw his dagger, giving up his only weapon.

The pain in my head began to be unbearable. “Do something!” I yelled at Tym.

“I’ll try,” Tym answered.

Tym reached his hand under the grate and grabbed at the uniform of the guard. A flash of light appeared, catching the guard’s clothes on fire. He screamed in panic dropping both knives to bat at his burning uniform. Kael used this opportunity to rush the burning guard and elbow him in the throat. The guard sputtered, and dropped to his knees. Kael punched him in the face knocking him out cold. As soon as the guard lost consciousness, the flames about him disappeared.

A small squeal escaped Scar Lip’s mouth and he turned white with fright, as he realized he was the only one left to face the deadly Kael. Scar Lip turned to run up the stairs as Kael threw the dagger. The silver blade sunk into Scar Lip’s back and he fell over with a grunt and slid down the stairs, coming to a halt on the bottom step.

Kael ran over and retrieved the keys from Scar Lip’s still body and ran to Tym’s cell. He quickly unlocked the door and a wide eyed Tym emerged, shaking. “Did you see that? I did it. I helped,” he sputtered.

“Thanks!” Kael quickly shot out to Tym, “but you have to get out of here and quick.”

Tym wasted no time and shot up the stairs and down the corridor toward freedom.

Kael unlocked my cell. As the door swung open I could see his face close up for the first time and my heart fluttered with apprehension. Here was someone who wasn’t afraid to die. A fierce look came from stormy blue eyes that were partially obscured by long dark hair. Kael’s hard mouth was set in a firm line as he studied me. He looked beyond me into the darkness of my cell searching for an ambush or possibly another prisoner. Kael looked older than me by a few years, but was striking and fierce looking at the same time. Here was a man bred to be a warrior.

I knew what he would find looking at me, a short little thing that looked more like a child than an adult. My height stopped at a few inches over five feet, and I was small compared to his towering frame. My hair hung dark and limp down my back and my blues eyes looked sickly surrounded by my swollen face and bruises. His look was grim and determined as he reached for my arm, and then stopped, his hand inches away.

“Come on,” he growled, curling his fingers into a fist at his side.

I ignored his gruff demeanor. After all, I didn’t know him and he did rescue me. I tried to stand, but all I was able to do was take a few steps and then stumble into the door. I was weak from malnourishment and the intense pounding in my head was making me feel awkward and unbalanced.

Kael inhaled his breath as if he was holding it and stepped back not bothering to assist me. “Get going,” he snapped.

The tone of his voice made me stiffen in resistance. I squared my shoulders and ordered him about. “Well, then move out of the doorway.”

Kael moved to the side, letting me pass before he reached for a torch from a wall. He entered each of the opened cells and gathered all of the blankets, clothes and straw into a corner to make kindling. Once done, he set them ablaze. He deftly stepped over the dead and unconscious guards and moved to the hall. The hungry crackling fire would soon spread to the wooden door and along the support beams in the wall. I hoped he would bring the whole thing down.

I stood watching him work until I had a prickling sensation on the back of my neck and I moved as fast as my feet would take me up the stairs and out the first door. Not bothering to notice that the stairs were empty of a body that was previously there, I hurried down the corridor to where the passageway split. To my left I could smell the air of freedom, but to my right down the other dark corridor, stood the huge metal door of the laboratory and possibly Cammie. I started to take steps away from potential freedom when Kael loomed up behind me.

“No, leave it well alone. GET OUT of here!” he yelled, as he dragged the still form of an unconscious guard after him. The other guard must not have survived.

“But Cammie could be down there!”

“You get outside. I’ll go look for her.” He propped the guard against the wall and ran toward the laboratory room.

Nodding my head in assent, I silently made my way down the opposite passageway, realizing that I wasn't eager in the least to travel the other one.

I followed the dark passageway by feeling the wall with my hand, wishing that I had thought to grab a torch. The wood beams became sparse and the ceiling started to slant lower and lower, until I was feeling the cross beams skim the top of my head. Anyone taller would have to duck to traverse the same path. My hands started to get entangled in roots that protruded from the wall. The gloomy darkness of the passageway seemed to go on forever until it came to an abrupt end, and I encountered a wall of dirt.

Feeling a moment of panic, I felt around in the darkness, for a door or handle, anything to help me escape. Something rough brushed against my face and I squeaked in surprise. Touching the object I found it to be a rope that dangled from the ceiling. Following the rope up with my hands I found that it was attached to a trapdoor in the ceiling.

By now the darkness was slowly being lightened by the glow of red flames behind me. I pushed the wooden door and it barely moved an inch. I was so weak it took me three tries to push it open. But I still had to pull myself out of the tunnel. I could smell the smoke and it stung my eyes making them water as I desperately tried to lift my own bodyweight out of the trapdoor.

“Come on!” I cried aloud. I scratched the ground for purchase trying to find any handhold to assist me. I finally dragged my chest across the dirt floor bruising my ribs in the process.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I emerged, but I wasn’t expecting a stable. The trapdoor was carefully hidden in the back stall under straw. The whole prison and experimental lab was housed and camouflaged by a stable. The smell of the horses would definitely cover the smell of the prison, experiments and death.