Page 89 of Hidden

“Ademar,” she said softly. “Have a care.”

“Yes,” Farras repeated, loud enough for all to hear. He tilted the spear head in Ademar’s direction. “Have a care what you say. You’ve only got one leg to stand on as it is.”

Gareth managed a caustic smile at Farras. “I see you’ve lost none of your diplomatic touch since you threw me in a cell.” Then he gave in to a wracking cough.

Lila passed the wine bottle to her mother, who held it to Gareth’s lips.

Farras’s lip curled in derision. “It was Teegar who arrested you.”

Her father took a second swallow of wine. “Does it matter? He never put on his drawers without your explicit order, at least until you tired of him trotting at your heels.”

Farras lifted his weapon, but stopped when one of the gargoyles twitched. He backed away, eyes Arctic with displeasure. “You’ll regret those words.”

Ademar’s sword flew from his cane, but he froze as the stained glass on the opposite wall exploded with a crash.

Someone screamed as sharp-nailed hands grabbed the window frame and ripped it away. A gaping hole revealed the pale faces of a dozen Undead, their eyes glowing as they reflected the indoor light. More hands grabbed the edges of the wound in the wall and tore. Sections of wall peeled away like the rind of a fruit.

“Impossible,” Galeeta murmured, her voice shaking with terror.

Lila’s knees trembled as she moved to stand beside Ademar. She’d hoped for an army to stop Farras and his troops. She’d even planned to go find one. But this—this wasn’t what she’d imagined.

“Do you have a weapon?” Ademar asked without taking his eyes off the far wall—or lack of it.

“Only my magic,” she replied. All she had in her pockets were leftovers from the banquet.

“Then that will have to do, but hold your fire for now.”

He was right. One of the nobles lobbed a defensive spell at the vampires, but only succeeded in scorching a section of the wall.

“Stop, you fools!” Farras pounded the butt of his spear on the floor. The noise was like thunder. “Conjure a barricade!”

No one listened. Fae warriors were without peer, but this was not a field of war. It was pandemonium. Panic had seized the room, and those with the discipline to fight were swamped by terrified civilians. More spells blasted the wall to splinters before the fae realized they were doing the enemy’s job.

“Where is my barricade?” the lord snarled as he stalked to the center of the room, brandishing his spear in the air.

No one replied, because it was too late. The Undead spilled into the room, Izetta in the lead. The dark-haired vampire paused long enough to scan the room before she marched straight for Galeeta, a grim smile playing around her lips. She pulled a long blade from her boot. Not a gun—some of the vampires had them, because Lila heard the rat-tat-tat of automatic fire—but a weapon guaranteed to inflict pain. The vampire tested it on her thumb as she approached, then licked the wound.

Ademar took a step forward, but Lila caught his arm as the gargoyles surged forward, blocking Izetta’s path.

“I’ve come for you, Lady Galeeta,” she said with sinister courtesy. “Call off your monsters and fight.”

“I will not leave my husband’s side,” Galeeta responded. “He was freed from prison tonight.”

At some unseen order, the two creatures parted just enough to show Lila’s parents huddled on the floor. Lila’s breath hitched. Her father slumped against Galeeta’s shoulder, eyes closed, as if he’d used up the last of his strength. Tears tracked down her mother’s face.

“Fireballs and damnation.” Izetta’s face twisted. “Where’s the sport in this?”

She did not have a chance to say more. Brilliant light flooded the room, searing everyone’s eyes. Lila flung up her arm, but it was no good. The radiance had a weight of its own, pressing into her skin and on down to her bones. It flared to a teeth-jarring pitch and then receded, the air tangibly cooling as it did.

When Lila’s vision finally cleared, she saw an arch of flame where the hole in the wall had been. The Undead had fled that spot, giving the ferocious light a wide berth. Even so, not all the fighting had stopped. Wolves and fae and vampires still battled, both inside and out.

“Freeze!” boomed a disembodied voice.

The words rolled over the scene, as deep and resonant as thunder in the mountains. Lila’s knees bent under the weight of compulsion. She could not move. No one could. An eerie quiet fell over the scene.

And then Lila heard the silvery tinkling of bells.

The air beneath the arch rippled, then broke like the surface of a lake. The head of a gray-dappled horse emerged, the golden bridle richly decorated with silver bells and tassels. A moment later, the rest of it was visible, including the rider. He was tall and dressed in robes rich with the shifting hues of autumn. His face was broader than most fae, with a cleft chin and square jaw. A golden crown shaped like twisting branches circled his brow. This was Elroth, the Forest King.

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