#Chapter 368 – Deeper In
Sinclair
“We have to get to them,” Roger snarls, moving towards a window intending to bash it to pieces, I know – but I grab his arm as he goes, pulling him back.
“The priests are not that stupid,
Roger,” I say through clenched teeth. ” If they can make the door disappear, they can make the windows solid – ”
“So what do we do,” Roger growls, frantic, as our remaining healthy men take advantage of the momentary reprieve to attend to the men who are wounded. I glance around, doing a quick survey and finding that about eight of our men are down. I grimace when I realize that two are not moving at all, or making any noise. But I look away from them fast, not needing the distraction.
“We retreat, I say, holding Roger’s eye, “or we move further in. But there’s a reason why they’re not attacking here – they’re letting us stay in relative peace because they want us to stay here. Which means they don’t want us to leave, and they don’t want us to go further.”
“What?” Roger asks, frantic and a little baffled, looking around. “Why don’t they just kill us? Why don’t they just -”
“Because they can’t,” I say, nodding as I figure it out. If they had more priests to send – enough to take us out – they would do it. But the fact that they’re not sending them…
on us that they can’t risk it. That we, somehow, outnumber or outmatch them. My wolf bares his fangs within me, eager now, on more secure ground now that we know more about
looking frantically for a
to me. “If you think I have any less concern for Ella than you do Cora,
hears me. “But you need to pull it together. You’re not going to help them by acting on impulse, all right? We need a
but then he turns back to me and nods so I
I ask, crossing my arms and glancing up towards the staircase and the second level where I suspect more are waiting for us, guarding…. something. Perhaps their
they can’t hold us forever. So the only question is – do we fight to leave? Or
idea that – well, that they want us to stay here means that they knew we were coming. And if they
about us than we thought they
bunker. I groan inwardly at the possibility, but I force myself to turn away from it, to focus
the stairs with me, putting the pieces together. “If they aren’t sending more,” he murmurs, meeting my eves,
steeling myself
Roger nods his
– as is part of their protocol – to continue tending to our wounded. I give brisk orders for the men to
one, Roger and I turn towards the stairs, determined to continue the
of a hallway or a door through which
face close, sniffing it.” It’s off,”
arms over my chest and looking it
that the priest’s power comes from binding
you mean?” I ask, turning
me askance.
have it, but our wolves too are gifts from the goddess. They’re magic, as much as we don’t generally describe them
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