Infinity Blade 01- Awakening

then, I see.” Her voice had a faint accent that Siris couldn’t place. She said her “eh” sound too long, like it was an “ee” instead, and she punctuated her syllables too much.
    Siris blinked in surprise, but didn’t reply. He moved across the room back toward the throne dais. It made for good cover.
    “This is very awkward,” the hidden assassin said, voice echoing in the room. “I’m going to flay that vendor alive; he promised the poison was a three-breather. You’ve taken considerably more than three breaths since I shot you.”
    Siris reached the base of the dais.
    “I don’t suppose you’re starting to feel tired?” the voice asked.
    “Afraid not,” Siris called back.
    “Weak? Dizzy? A little peckish?”
    Siris hesitated. “Peckish?”
    “Sure. You know, like something has pecked you? Isn’t that what the word means?”
    “It means hungry,” he said flatly.
    “Damn.” There was a sound coming from one of the back pillars, like the assassin was writing . Taking notes? “Your language is stupid, immortal.”
    “Wait,” Siris said. “Immortal?”
    “And might I add,” the voice continued, “that when people speak of awe-inspiring divine powers, spontaneously growing a beard doesn’t really come up. I expected lightning, thunder, earthquakes. Instead I got facial hair. I’m less than impressed.”
    Thunder . . . earthquakes . . . immortal?
    Siris almost laughed. She thought he was the God King!
    What else would she think, finding someone sitting in the throne, with the God King’s sword beside him, speaking with a troll?
    “I think there’s been a misunderstanding—” Siris began.
    At that moment, she leaped out from behind her pillar and leveled her crossbow at him again. She’d removed her mask, and he was surprised to see that she was completely human.
    And she was not unattractive, with long black hair that she kept in a simple ponytail. But her eyes spoiled it. Those were grim and hard. Dangerous.
    Siris’s hard-won reflexes meant he got the shield up in time to deflect a crossbow bolt; the woman ducked back behind the pillar, her black coat swishing. She’d been trying to lull him with the conversation.
    “Look,” Siris said. “You’re making a mistake. I—”
    The door to the room exploded. A massive, hulking thing of sparks and darkness broke its way through the far wall, tossing down chunks of rock. It held a blade as wide as a man’s stride, and its head was capped by a helm that trailed black mist through the eyeslit.
    “What’s that ?” Siris demanded.
    “You didn’t think I came alone, did you?” the woman called.
    Great, Siris thought, turning toward this new foe—though he had to be careful not to put his back to the woman. That would likely earn him a crossbow bolt between the shoulder blades. His armor was good, but she obviously had an enhanced crossbow built to punch through the best steel.
    The newcomer stepped into the room, the beautiful marble tiles crunching and cracking beneath its feet. Siris was half-afraid the tower floor would fall out from under them. They were at the highest point in the castle, and the drop would be deadly.
    Most of the daerils fled, though Kuuth retreated to the side of the room. The ancient troll rested on his staff, head cocked to listen.
    None of the daerils offered to help Siris, despite their willingness to call him “great master.” Siris put himself into an Aegis fighting stance—well, as best he could, while watching two places at once. The machinelike monster took a pair of crunching steps forward, and then another one just like it followed through the hole the first had made, knocking pieces of rock to the ground.
    Great, Siris thought. He made a snap decision, then attacked forward, intending to try to defeat one of the monsters before he could be overwhelmed.
    The assassin had been waiting for that move, however, and took a shot at him as he charged. Siris had to lurch to a stop, letting the bolt shoot in front of him, then awkwardly raised his shield to block a blow from the first golem.
    The monster’s gigantic sword crashed down, hitting hard and sending a shower of sparks from his shield. The shield’s magic held, but just barely. Terrors, he thought, I’d never be able to parry a blow from something like this unaided.
    He breathed out, bringing his sword around to strike, but caught another motion from the corner of his eye. He leaped to the side in time to dodge yet another