Page 36 of Fae Exile

“No kidding,” Ryder said.

Hiroshi tossed his dagger to his other hand. He’d had to regrow his dominant arm, and it still tired faster than usual. “Let’s get moving. We need to be back and out before she catches on to what we’ve been up to.”

He was right, of course. Even so, for an entire minute none of us moved nor released the grip we had on the wall behind us.

Eventually, I clutched my sword more tightly and forced myself to step away. I stalked a mere three paces from that safety net, and yet each one ignited my desperation to get the dragonfire out of here and never look back.

Over my shoulder, I told the others, “It must be part of the spell.” We were, after all, both warriors and drakes who’d accepted that every single day we worked to better the mirror world, we courted death.

“Does it get better there?” West asked, as if I stood an entire league away.

I snorted. “No, but get your asses moving. We gotta go.” They edged forward, but hesitated, so I added, “For Gadiel.”

Even in the dark, I saw West’s throat bob, but then he was the first to move to my side. “Let’s move. Before the place falls down around us.”

As if he’d thrown down the gauntlet to whatever was shaking the castle, a roar shot up from the deep pit below us—so mighty, so powerful that I didn’t have a chance to react beyond throwing myself to the floor and spreading out flat. The bellow enveloped me like a suffocating heat, making it difficult to breathe for several long beats. When it seemed the effect would only further entrench itself, it dissipated, and I sensed a quake about to follow.

Urgently, I sheathed my sword and dug the fingers of both hands into the crevices between the stones. They were rough and sharp in places, perhaps enough to keep me in place.

I flicked a quick glance at the others, and in the dark managed to confirm they’d all pressed low to the platform. Then the rumbling of stone and earth grew deafening, as loud and enraged as the roar of the beast—whatever it was. Like violent, churning waves, the shaking force barreled toward us, unavoidable and intent on tumbling us into oblivion. I couldn’t breathe properly and panted short, shallow breaths and clenched shut my eyes, forcing away panicked thoughts of Elowyn and Ramana, seemingly summoned from the bowels of this hellhole.

I’d failed them both.

The stone beneath me, which had once felt solid and sufficiently thick, wobbled and vibrated as if it were liquid, as if in the very next moment we were sure to fall through it and perhaps never reach the bottom. That I’d ever believed myselfcapable of taking down the queen and saving our world was laughable when she could engineer a situation like this one.

And it had to be her. In Embermere, it was alwaysher.

When the shaking finally subsided, I lay where I was, my fingers bent into claws where they’d grappled for a hold. Gradually, and too slowly, I forced my fingers to loosen their grip, my breathing and heartbeat to resume a normal pattern. I rubbed at the cheek that had pressed into the stone, its indents transferred to my skin.

Before I was ready, I rose only to a crouch, my instincts insisting I keep low to the ground. We were incredibly far from safe. But then, even in the Hall of Mirrors or throne room, dressed impeccably and on our best behavior, our fates were no more certain.

Intending to rally my brothers, I looked behind me.

All three of them already stood, in a crouch much like mine. Their eyes were shadowed, barely visible in the scant light, but there I saw all I needed to know. They were shaken yet equally determined. We wouldn’t run away without knowing what hid beneath us.

I nodded, they nodded back, and we proceeded across the walkway that no longer felt as sturdy as the carved stone once had. Like everything else the queen touched, it was likely to disintegrate.

I focused on how the pygmy ogres must walk this path every day, and a single one of them probably weighed as much as all four of us combined. Their living quarters must be somewhere on the other side of this footpath.

We didn’t dawdle, not even pausing to peer off either edge of the pathway in case we could make out what awaited us below. No railings prevented a fall. I kept my attention ahead and nowhere else.

It took us entire minutes to traverse, but eventually we reached the other side, where we practically ran onto the corridor that was carved out of the rock, a partial tunnel that was fully supported from beneath. The path was spacious enough to accommodate the pygmy ogres, opening to the left, to the right, and up ahead, deeper into the bedrock.

Completely silent now that we were closer to where pygmy ogres must congregate, my friends and I studied each option. All paths appeared the same: unmarked, gaping openings that certainly didn’t lead anywhere good. Worse, moving forward, they were enclosed. There’d be no hiding should we cross paths with any of the guards. We’d run smack into them. Our only assurance was that we were swifter than any pygmy ogre. We’d easily outrun them, but even as dull as the brutes were, they’d report to their precious “queenie” that we’d been down here, and then our plan would be as good as dead—and perhaps us too.

Still, our only other choice was to remain in ignorance, and there was a chance whatever we discovered below could help us wage our war against the evil queen.

The path to the right was the only one that might tip downward. Holding up a hand signaling to my friends they should wait, I stalked down the tunnel. Within maybe thirty feet, it began descending sharply.

I ran back up to fetch them and they fell into line behind me. Ryder and West clutched daggers, but Hiroshi and I left our weapons holstered for now.

Without a plan for what to do should we encounter our enemies, I strained my ears for any sign of their approach. I mostly heard my pulse, and made myself focus on calming my breathing.You haven’t been safe since you first met the queen, I reminded myself.This is no different, just more of the same.

Of course, it still felt different, like we were willingly marching into the belly of the beast. Perhaps, even with its roar,capable of tearing apart the palace, this beast would be less fearsome than the queen. In her own way, she was dismantling all that was good about the mirror world, person by person, creature by creature, night by wicked night.

The ground shifted from a smooth slope to roughly hewn steps that I couldn’t imagine the queen descending in her opulent dresses with their long skirting trains. I pressed my hands to my weapons to keep them from rattling. Long minutes passed. The air grew cooler and damper still. Suddenly absent were the ogrish grunts and the cracking of whips. The bellowing beast was silent—a significant blessing.

Straight down we went until I heard the heavy breathing of creatures. I stopped, the others piling up behind me, and waited, listening.

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