Page 147 of With Wing And Claw

Becausethere, at long last, was the grey wall of the mountain’s slope, looming between the foliage. And there was the gate she’d been lookingfor, its irregular shape dark, specks of light flickering in the shadows beyond.

She staggered into the Labyrinth half-sobbing with exhaustion, trickles of blood running down her scraped and scratched legs. Around her, the caves vibrated with worry. Relief to see her again. Most of all, growing steadily stronger as Naxi pushed herself farther into the mountain, the sort of fury that felt like a question.

Who hurt you?that feeling asked.Who do we need to hurt?

Despite herself, Naxi laughed. High-pitched, hysterical laughter, like a declaration of war.

‘Let’s kill some fae, sweetheart.’

Chapter 31

Had Thysandra been tryingto kill Nicanor, breaking the walkway would have been a ridiculous first strike.

Which was exactly the point.

The bastard had not seen it coming. His wings broke his fall before she could blink, of course; he did not plummet to his death, he barely lost his footing. But it was that moment of surprise – that single moment in which conscious thought had to move over for reflexes – that she needed more than his imminent demise, more than a brilliant first attack to gain the upper hand.

The upper hand was meaningless, with an army mere steps away.

What she needed was time, not blood. What she needed was to keep them busy –allof them – for just as long as she could. And a direct battle would see her dead within minutes … so instead, as all heads on the field snapped towards her at once, she used that ephemeral moment of shock to do the one thing a clear-headed Nicanor would never have allowed.

Flee.

Like a coward – but a coward with a plan.

She soared back into the castle just in time. The doorpost flew apart in marble smithereens two feet behind her wings; Nicanor was already hollering commands, with that unflustered efficiency she’d once believed her ally. Now it only meant they were after her more swiftly, more orderly. Already the first winged shapes came shooting past the windows, and glass shattered around her as she flew …

Their fucking problem.

This washerbattlefield.

Her home. Her gods-damned court, and she’d spent four hundred years learning every nook and cranny of the place … so let them follow. Let them try to lock her in. They would win in the end – but she could give them a hell of a chase, first.

More glass shattered. Fae came barging in from the side.

Thysandra dove through the doorway of the soldier’s library.

It was a waste of space, this room. Not one warrior ever came here to study the tomes on battle strategy and military history. Exceptshehad, of course, in her neverending eagerness to please the Mother with her knowledge and devotion – and so she knew exactly what to aim for, zigzagging through the maze of shelves and parchment as behind her voices yelled about splitting up and searching.

The little door wasn’t on any official maps. She wasn’t sure if even the Mother had known about it. Since it led straight to the castle’s wine cellars, she suspected the tunnel had been created by a bunch of soldiers less committed to their studies – boozing idiots, but she muttered a word of thanks all the same as she swept aside the velvet curtains, unlocked the hatch, and squeezed herself into the unlit dark.

It would win her perhaps a minute.

For now, that was enough.

Even here, slipping between the castle’s walls and floors, she could hear the shouts of the army surrounding her, the magic slamming into stone. She’d just reached the end of the tunnel as light flooded in from the other end and triumphant cries grew abruptly louder – an advantage of just about half a minute, then, but at least Nicanor wouldn’t have surrounded the cellars.

Yet.

She gave herself no time to think as she darted through the pantries and larders, avoiding the kitchens and the fae working in them. The voices behind her sounded less confident now, unsure of their direction in the labyrinthine cellar system. Clearly, she grimly concluded, they’d never snuck in here in the dark of night to steal their evening meal, after having spent long enough on the training field to miss dinner.

She didn’t dare take the exit near the harbour, the exit through which provisions were brought in – because if Naxi was leaving the island, she’dhaveto find a ship sooner or later, and it would be less than helpful to put the army in her path. Instead, Thysandra picked the corridor that led up into the heart of the castle – the one through which food and drink were served at the Mother’s feasts.

Time to draw some attention again.

She didn’t even need to make an effort. Two armed females raised the alarm behind her before she’d crossed the first hallway.

To her left were the archives – rooms she didn’t know too well. To her right, however, lay the salons, the council chambers, the places where she’d spent hundreds upon hundreds of hours dealing with everything from looming rebellion to petty fae disputes. She made her decision in a split second, sprinting right and down the black-and-gold marble corridor as the roars of her pursuers swelled louder behind her – this was not the time for surprises.

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