Page 80 of Vow of the Shadow King

Shouts rise from below, sounds of pounding feet and activity. Then Hael draws back a step, her eyes widening.“Morar-juk!”she snarls.“Woggha!”

The word sounds familiar, but in that moment, I cannot place it. My head pounds too hard as darkness threatens to close in my vision. I shut my eyes, press into the stone floor under me, search for the answering stir of crystals. Whatever traces ofurzulare here in my balcony, it’s not enough. I cannot clear this pain.

My eyes flash open. “Hael.”

She turns, stares down at me. Her fear jolts through my senses, and I wince, drawing back slightly. But I need her strength. Now. “Hael, take me to the gardens.”

“What?” She shakes her head, brow puckering. “What are you talking about? The gardens? You can’t mean—”

I rise. It’s an agony, and doing so means removing my hand from the stone. I kick the slippers from my feet so that I may ground myself through my soles instead. It’s enough to help me hold my balance as I face down the tall trolde captain. “At once, Captain,” I say.

She wants to protest. She wants to lock me up in this chamber, trap me inside like the prisoner we both know I am. How could I stop her? She has the brute force. I have nothing. No power, no authority. Nothing.

But I throw the full force of my spirit into direct combat with hers. It takes everything I have, gripping my pendant, bracing my feet. Hers is not a will to be trifled with.

In the end, however, she dips her eyes. “Very well,” she murmurs and steps around me, leading the way from the balcony back into the room. She’s nearly to the door when she stops, looks back. “Are you coming?”

I swallow hard. The humiliation is almost more than I can bear, but I keep my head high and my voice even. “You will have to carry me.”

She blinks. Swallows. Then, without a word, she crosses back to where I stand and scoops me up in her strong arms. She’s not gentle like Vor. She carries me like a sack of potatoes, slung over her shoulder. But she moves with easy grace, strides to the open door and out into the passage beyond. By now, screams erupt from inside the palace. Some of them are audible, but the rest crash inside my head alone. I press my fist to my forehead. Without the grounding touch of stone under my feet, I’m nearly overwhelmed by my curse of a gift.

Hael steps from the stairwell into the arched hall. The moment she does so, more screams burst nearby. She turns toward the sound, catches her breath. “What’s happening?” I manage to ask. “What do you see?”

“Nothing yet,” she replies. Her jaw is tight, her teeth grinding. With a little growl, she hastens the opposite direction. “The palace is vulnerable. So many of the house guard went with the king,” she mutters, more to herself than to me.

“Is the palace under attack?”

Rather than answer, Hael lifts her head and barks something in troldish. A cluster of women rush by, clutching their skirts, their mouths open in terrified screams. Hael shouts after them, demanding answers, but her voice cuts off in a ragged cry.

A cave devil lurches into view. Its savage mouth is open wide. Its long tongue spills out, lashing the air like a whip. Hideous, hairless gray limbs bunch with sinewy muscle as it propels itself in pursuit of its prey.

Hael takes three more running strides before she pulls herself up short, pivots, and darts into the nearest chamber. There she drops me unceremoniously on the floor before grabbing the door and slamming it shut. She hauls a nearby table screeching across the floor to bar the way.

I lie where I’ve been dropped, breathing hard. At least here on the floor, I can press my palms flat once more and search out whatever faint vibrations I can find. There aren’t many here, but I pull what I can into my body, steady myself, find a space of clarity within the storm. Pulling myself upright, I look across at Hael as she adds to her barricade. “Hael!” I shout.

She pauses, looks over her shoulder at me.

“Those women! They need your help!”

She shakes her head. “My duty is to protect you, Princess.”

I stare up at her. Even now, even with the thrum of the crystals to steady me, I feel the fear, the terror, the death outside that door. I can’t hide in here and just let it happen. Swallowing back my own agonized screams, I pull to my feet, stagger across the room. I all but fall against the table Hael has pushed in front of the door and lean heavily on it for support. Then I grip its edge. “Pull it back,” I demand. “We’re going to help them. Now.”

Hael meets my eye. “I have only one duty here,” she says, but her face is agonized.

“Yes,” I reply. “To serve me. And I am giving you an order, Captain.”

Mine is not the voice of a prisoner. In that moment, I am her queen. It doesn’t matter if it’s true. It doesn’t matter if my marriage was consummated, if I am Vor’s wife in name or deed or only in my dreams. In that moment, I am what I must be.

“Open this door.”

Her lips pulled back in a snarl, Hael grabs the table and hauls it back. Pushing the door wide, she steps into the hall, draws her sword. I stagger after her and grip the doorway for support. The screams of the women have not progressed far. The cave devil was right on their heels after all.

Hael looks back at me. “Stay here.”

“Save them!” I reply.

Then she’s off, sprinting hard. I follow after, despite her demand, staggering along like a drunkard. My head pounds with the dissonance of terror. Death surrounds me. It slashes across my senses, sudden, ripping, horrific. I fall to my knees, pick myself up again, push on until I come to the end of the hall and turn the corner.

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