Demonbane (Book 4) by Ben Cassidy

possible.
    The guard swung his sword and batted the thrown grenade aside with the flat of his blade.
    The smoking sphere landed in the hay a few feet away. It flared and sparked as the precious few seconds of matchcord it had burned rapidly away.
    The second guard backed fearfully towards the stable door.
    The first guard gave the grenade a dismissive glance. He looked back at Maklavir with a taunting smile. “Fool me once, barrister, shame on me. Fool me—”
    Maklavir dove for the farthest stall he could. He cowered behind the wooden wall, then covered his head with both arms.
    The smile disappeared from the guard’s face.
    He looked down at the grenade again.
    It exploded.
     
    Kendril dodged to one side
    For one brief moment he had the idealistic hope that Mayer might bury the tip of his blade into the wooden cabinet door.
    The captain, unfortunately, was no such fool.
    He twisted mid-strike, then forced Kendril back into the small kitchen space.
    Kendril backed up. He could feel the heat of one of the cooking fires behind him.
    He was running out of places to go.
    Mayer allowed himself a triumphant smile, then brought his sword back for a killing strike.
    Kendril brought up his own mangled poker.
    A loud roar came from somewhere outside.
     
    One of the horses was screaming.
    Maklavir hoped it wasn’t Joseph’s horse. His own steed, Veritas, had been near the front of the stable.
    The air was thick with the smell of burning hay and gunpowder. From somewhere outside came yelling and screaming.
    Maklavir pushed himself up to his feet. His ears were ringing from the shattering noise of the grenade, his mouth was dry from the gunpowder in the air. He didn’t seem to be injured, though. No sharp stabs where shrapnel had hit, no cuts or even bruises.
    His clothes, on the other hand, were an absolute mess.
    Maklavir staggered out into the aisle. He looked down to where the grenade had gone off.
    A large hole was blown in the side of the stable wall. Cold air and snow blew inside. One horse was dead, another was injured and crashing around crazily in its stall.
    The first guard was…dead.
    Maklavir turned his head away from the gristly sight. Hardly a gentleman’s weapon, the grenade. Still, he couldn’t help but admit that his rather perverse interest in explosives had gotten him out of a scrape or two. Including this one.
    He felt bad about the horses, though. Couldn’t really be helped.
    Something continued to nag at the corner of his brain. Like he was forgetting something important…
    Maklavir straightened his collar, swatted away a piece of burning straw that was drifting down through the air, then turned towards the stable’s entrance.
    The second guard appeared in the doorway.
    Maklavir stopped in his tracks.
    Now he remembered. Two guards.
     
    Captain Mayer turned his head at the sudden noise.
    It wasn’t much. A natural reaction, almost a flinch.
    But it was all that Kendril had. He knew that it was all he would have.
    And he didn’t flinch.
    Mayer’s attention was diverted for about a second. Probably less.
    It was all Kendril needed.
    He hurtled forward and swung the poker at Mayer’s head.
    The mercenary captain snapped his head back, then tried to yank his sword around in time to block the attack.
    He was too slow
    Kendril cracked the iron poker into the man’s face with a bone-shattering crunch.
    Mayer collapsed back onto the kitchen floor.
    Kendril tossed aside the fire poker and turned back towards the stairs.
    Only then did it hit him.
    The noise had been an explosion, like a grenade.
    Kendril scowled. No wonder Maklavir hadn’t returned yet. The fool was probably off getting himself killed.
    So much for being clandestine…
     
    There was a time-honored tactic that Maklavir had often found useful in situations like the one he was in now.
    He spun on his heels and ran like all the creatures of the Void were on his heels.
    Batting his way through the smoke and charred pieces of wood, past the