She lunged to her feet and raced toward the blast furnace. She dodged track, pipes, and bins and darted into the open area she had seen from above. The first body almost tripped her. Downed men littered the floor amongst pools of blood. Where was… The lone standing figure amongst the carnage, Sicarius grabbed an axe. Black shirt ravaged, blood spattering him from hair to boots, he looked like—he was—the harbinger of death. He stepped to Sespian’s side and lifted the dripping blade overhead to hack at the chains. “Soldiers,” Amaranthe barked. “We have to get out of—”
