Page 82 of The Shadow Heir

“There she is! Grab her!”

I only made it up five steps before a shadowy figure swirled around me, halting my escape. Erik’s wide shoulders and square jaw were barely recognizable in this form, but his voice was the same.

“We’ve got a fun little game prepared for you, mortal. And you won’t survive this one.”

34

Casimiro

Outside the dining cavern, Zara screamed.

I had my hands out at my sides, my magic bracing two fae from attacking each other as they argued over what some were calling thefailedtrial. But as soon as I heard her, I lunged for the door.

In my moment of distraction, two mortals spun from where they appeared to be pouring wine at nearby tables and attempted to clamp iron shackles around both my hands. Only one succeeded.

But one was all it took.

An immediate weight settled over me as my magic dimmed. My years of building up immunity to iron kept me moving forward, fighting off the attackers as they descended upon me, but I wasn’t strong enough to fend off twenty fae as their spells hit me like arrows.

These were the faces of the traitors I’d been hunting, all converging on me at once.

I’d taken to bringing Diego with me to each meal, and the dip defended me earnestly, sinking his fangs into Viro’s thigh.

“Alba!” I shouted, hoping she was already gone, already somewhere safe. “Hide!”

The air beside me shimmered right before it split like a cake under a knife. A doorway opened up and I was shoved through.

I stumbled onto a cobblestone courtyard in the center of a sleepy mortal village crisp with cool fall air. No one stirred, save a startled cat. With a grounding inhale, I numbed my mind to the pain of the iron, which for now burned hotter than the pain of my curse, and focused on finding something to break the cuff around my wrist. Whoever planned this had been smart. Iron cuffs were much more damaging than blades, which could be ripped out quickly.

As I raced toward the shabby thatched roof buildings nearby, the traitor’s faces flashed before me. None of them were courtiers I considered friends, but among them were some men and women I’d never imagined would be part of a coup. Erik and Viro were not a surprise, but Niv and Reyna and Manuel and—I stopped thinking about them as soon as I spotted an axe leaning against a shabby building with a thatched roof.

I dropped to my knee and placed the cuff on the cobblestones, pressing my arm as far to one side of the iron ring as possible, then slammed the axe blade into the metal.

Sparks flew and the cobblestone beneath my wrist cracked. The broken cuff fell away and my magic surged back through my senses.

The traitors didn’t know of my immunity to iron. They assumed I’d be stranded here, dying a painful death as the effects of the iron and my curse consumed me.

But as I attempted to reopen a door in the dining cavern, my magic ricocheted and sparks flew from the air where I’d aimed my spell.

“Clever,” I said aloud, fuming as I realized whoever was behind this had at least considered the fact that I might be ableto return. Magical doorways had predictable properties, and any door once opened could bereopenedwith the right spell, unless someone sealed it from the other side.

Alba had already sealed the doorway in my study, the one I used most often to return home. I let out an angry yell, not caring who in this mortal town woke from the sound.

My sister and Zara were both in danger now, and I had to get to them. The traitors knew that my father would only be weakened if both heirs were killed within minutes of each other. My body was bound to his with a curse, and severing it would cause him pain. At my death, Alba would become his only living heir, and her life would inherit the curse. To weaken my father, I had to die first, then Alba. And if they really wanted to weaken the Shadow King, the traitors would likely kill every mortal bound to him as well.

If I didn’t return soon, it would be a bloodbath at Nightsong.

The traitors couldn’t have closed every single magical door in the palace, as some were permanent windows between worlds. Though I sensed I was far from any of these doors, I knew where each of them sat on the various maps of the worlds. Shifting into my shadow form, wings spread at my back and I took to the air.

35

Zara

The moon hadn’t yet crested the mountain as Ivy, Tomas, Eudoria, and I paraded out into the freezing night air. Eudoria wasn’t allowed help this time, so she hobbled along as best she could. Samuel was still too weak to leave the infirmary, and I hoped he wouldn’t have to endure this trial. We peeled out of a tiny, arched door and descended a narrow stairwell that zigzagged down the steep rock face until it spilled out onto a flat, long terrace. On one side was a sharp cliff; on the other, stands had been cut into the mountainside. I’d seen this place weeks ago, at the time being reminded of our back terrace, where Nina hosted tea parties in the spring.

But as the stands filled with fae, I realized that this was no terrace built for parties.

Ivy leaned forward and whispered, “This was where my first trial took place. We were blindfolded and told to follow the person who led us forward.” She choked back a sob. “They led us straight over the cliff. Tomas and I only lived because we heard the fae screaming with laughter as…as…”

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