Free Duel At Grimwood Creek (Book 2) by Lucas Thorn

sucked at the vagrant light, searching for sign of movement.
    Could smell rot and mould.
    And something else. Something more familiar.
    The tip of her tongue slid across her lip. Ears starved for sound. She took a step toward the doorway where the door itself clung desperately to its frame by perhaps the barest thread of metal hinge. Cracked open wide enough to permit a glimpse inside.
    But all she could make out was a sea of sodden gloom which revealed nothing of the interior behind the door. Shadows gathered sullenly around its edges.
    Nysta moved with deliberate care, eyes latching onto something which appeared to confirm her need for caution. Crouching, the elf touched the cold stone ground. Kept her gaze firmly fixed on the doorway.
    Fingers moved slowly over rubble and found splashes of wet. She lifted her finger to her nose and her eyes glittered at the rusty smell of blood.
    The elf picked her way forward with care, taking her time. Slow to avoid disturbing the rubble at her feet, though there seemed less of it as she passed the stairs leading upward and in front of the doorway.
    Angling sideways, she placed a hand on the ancient wood. Probed the iron ribs binding it together. Didn't push on it, though. Just felt it. Willing a sense of the room beyond to somehow transmit up her fingertips.
    But felt nothing.
    Wondered if anyone was waiting behind the door. Sword raised. Ready to split her down the middle.
    Or an archer, opposite the doorway. An arrow in the chest might be waiting.
    Or nothing at all.
    Maybe the blood belonged to something which had wandered further up the stairs. A rat, caught in the falling debris and crawling away to die?
    Impatience bubbled away in her belly.
    Twisting her fear into a ball of fire. She battled the desire to kick the door down and rush inside.
    A muffled sound intruded on her thoughts.
    Cough?
    It was the far side of the room, though. Not close to the door.
    Her palm itched.
    She started to slide forward, to push on the door. Then tried to throw herself back as she caught the barest whisper of noise from behind. But froze as cold steel whipped around to press hard into her throat, angled firmly against her jaw.
    “Well, now,” a thin voice cooed into her ear. “Didn't figure to catch me a raghead so easy as that. Guess Raste was right. You're just a whore pretending to be something you ain't. Now take your hand off that blade before you cut yourself. And let's go inside, shall we? Someone's waiting for you. Real eager to meet you too, he is. Ain't stopped talking about you since we made it out of Spikewrist. Wouldn't want to disappoint now, would you? That's it. Arms out. Come on.”  
    The elf scowled as she lifted her arms away from her sides and let him guide her forward, rigid with fear pulsing hard in her chest between the drumming of her heart.
    She'd been stupid.
    There wasn't enough rubble on the ground around the door. Should have noticed it straight away.  He must have cleared it so she wouldn't hear him coming. Waited on the stairs above the doorway. And she'd walked right into it like a rabbit.
    She could feel his triumph as he prodded her forward.
    Annoyed, she kicked the door with her boot. The door swung open with a splintering of wood and slammed hard into the wall.
    For a moment, she thought she could take him. Thought she'd got him off-balance.
    But he was quick. His free hand snatched a fistful of her hair. Jerked her head back and hissed into her ear; “Don't do that again, bitch. I'll let that one go. Reckon you know you ain't making it out of here alive. And that's gotta be a disappointment. But there's more than one way to die, if you get me?”
    She said nothing.
    Nudged into the room, she expected to see Raste gloating. Instead, a crumpled shape huddled in the corner. She couldn't immediately see his features, but she'd know Raste even if she was in an alley with her eyes closed. And this wasn't him.
    This one looked to be in a bad way. Was probably