Page 143 of Steel Heart Iron Claws

The soldiers bow before rushing back toward the castle, picking their way over the rubble in the twilight darkness.

“Woudix. Samaur. Iyre.” Vale snaps. “Lock this idiot in the dungeon until I decide his punishment.”

Artain gapes, resting a hand on his hip as he tries to protest, but his fellow Blades and Iyre shove him around with enough glee that he finally holds up his hands in surrender. He follows them toward the castle, throwing a possessive glare back at me.

In the distance, two soldiers jog toward us across the Woodland Garden with a stretcher, but they’re still half a minute away.

For a moment, I’m alone with Vale.

My father’s strange calmness makes the hair lift along my arms like a ghost whispered across it. I fold my arms across my chest, rubbing away the goosebumps, and lift my chin to face his ethereal beauty.

“You’d let me go?” I ask. “Just like that?”

He slowly runs a hand down his tangled beard. “You were bound in a fae bargain. You won your freedom. Naturally, after the lengths I’ve gone, I want you to stay here. But what I feel bears no consequence. I cannot force you.”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, locking my knees to keep myself upright. My entire body is heavy with exhaustion. I feel wrung out from worrying about Basten. My father’s words should fill me with relief, so why do I still feel uneasy?

This could be anotherfae trick.

Or…is that only paranoia talking? I can’t find any faults in Vale’s logic. Ididoutsmart Artain. I followed all the fae rules. Even the King of Fae himself is standing here telling me that I’m free.

Gods, I don’t know. I’m too damn spent to keep standing. Too tired to think straight. All I want is to know that Basten is safe and then to collapse into days of sleep that would fold around me like a cocoon.

“Good,” I murmur. “Okay.”

My voice rings hollow—because I’m empty. Depleted. I sway on my feet by the time the soldiers arrive with the stretcher, and it’s all I can do to murmur soft reassurances in Basten’s unconscious ear as they cart him off to the Aurora Tower.

And then, it’s done.

It’s over.

My father watches with an inscrutable look that makes it impossible to know his true thoughts. My legs finally give out. When was the last time I had water? Food? I’m bleeding from dozens of scratches, a rash of bruises blooming along my arms and legs.

I stumble forward?—

—and catch myself on Tòrr’s horn, which he lowered to me like a helping hand.

Take me away from this damn castle,I tell him.

No one argues against a monoceros, not even King of Fae.

Tòrr uses his muzzle to lift me onto his back, and he carries me to the stable, to Myst’s stall, where I collapse in the soft, clean hay.

Outside, Tòrr stands watch by her stall door.

Myst sinks down to curl up beside me, nuzzling her velvety nose against all of my sores.

As I drift off—I’m free, Basten is alive—I feel little paws climbing over my gown. The stable’s mice form a warm blanket on top of me. A snake comes to lick the blood from my arm.

And the spiders?

The spiders sing me to sleep.

Chapter 37

Basten

Fuck.

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