Page 151 of Throne of Dreams
“Go.” The guard tossed an anxious glance behind them. “Go now.”
Maeve ran.
* * *
Maeve didn’t encounteranother Autumn soldier as she sprinted down the corridor, but guilt gnawed at her gut. The female guard had been right. She was a cold-blooded killer, the same as Garvan. Never once did she stop to consider that one of them would let her go, or maybe even help her escape. No. She assumed death had to be the only way and she’d wielded her Aurastone brutally. Without consequence. Without consideration for the lives she was taking.
Angry shouts echoed from somewhere behind her and Maeve pushed herself faster, her legs firing. She bolted around the second corner, just as the female had instructed, and already she could hear the noisy cascade of the waterfall beckoning to her. A sudden burst of energy crackled in the air around her, sparking violently like a force field of some kind. She stumbled against it, into it. The world shifted, but it wasn’t a glamour. It was something else entirely. A ward, maybe. She couldn’t be sure, but right now, there was no time to think. No time to question.
The soft glow of moonlight spilled into the hall in a flood of silver. Maeve bolted toward it, then came to a sliding halt.
It was a balcony all right, but she’d have to find a way to climb it without impaling herself on one of the many stakes vaulting up from the railing. They rose in varying height and formed two complete rows with a long rod anchoring the top to the bottom. She darted over to the edge, wrapping her fingers around the slick metal and looked down.
Nausea roiled inside her, and she backed away.
Fade. The thought flared inside her like a burst of lightning. Her magic was faint, barely a glimmer inside her, but she would try anything if it meant she didn’t have to jump from that godsforsaken balcony.She didn’t want to fall into the darkened depths of the waterfall waiting to swallow her whole. She was too afraid to care if the merrows were down there, swimming, waiting for her. Too weak. Once again, her past was going to become her downfall.
Her magic flared and she thought of Summer. Of Tiernan’s bed, not her own. Of the way the warm breeze brushed across her skin like a lover’s caress. Of plumeria, sandalwood, and palm trees. She held her breath and…nothing.
Nothing happened.
Her magic was blocked. Barricaded. She reached out again, calling to it, entreating a response, but it flowed through and around her. That must’ve been what she felt during that intense burst of energy. The palace had been charmed, likely Garvan’s doing. Merrick knew Maeve would have to jump. There was no other way.
Stepping forward, she peered over again and clamped down on the swell of panic. She wassohigh up. Flashbacks of the cage dangling over the Cliffs of Morrigan assaulted her mind. The creaking of the branches, and the sting of the salty air. The angry waves. The rugged cliffs. The terrifying moment when she thought for certain she would drown.
Maeve shook her head.
No.
She was past that. Beyond it. She’d overcome that fear of the water, that fear of imminent death. Gods be damned though, if she survived this, she would throttle Merrick for this absolutely absurd idea.
Sheathing her Aurastone, she grabbed the stakes and attempted to hoist herself up. She planted one foot on the crossbar, but the poles were coated in a faint sheen of mist from the falls. They were damp and slippery, and she couldn’t maintain her balance. Her grip slid and the dagger-like tip of one stake cut across her palm.
“Sun and sky.” Blood coated her hand, and she scrubbed it off onto her leggings. Pain rippled through her and a second later, the burning sensation took over as her body tried to heal the wound.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” Garvan’s cruel voice sounded from behind her.
Maeve whipped around to face him and paled. All the blood drained from her face when she caught sight of what he held in one hand.
It was the decapitated head of the female guard who’d helped her. His fingers were curled into her chestnut brown hair.
Maeve’s stomach revolted, but she clamped down on the urge to vomit.
“Pity. She was one of the prettier ones.” He tossed the head to the side, and it rolled across the stone balcony, the long brown tresses wrapped and tangled in blood. “Though I always suspected she sided with Shay on things.”
At the mention of her brother’s name, Maeve’s skin caught fire with rage. “You’ll pay for what you did to him.”
Garvan’s upper lip curled in disgust. “He died a traitor’s death.”
“As will you.” Maeve’s fingers tightened around the bar until her knuckles turned white. “Not only as a traitor to your Court, but as a traitor to all of Faeven.”
His laughter was despondent, like his soul had been lost long ago.
Four more guards came rushing out of the corridor. One gaped in horror at the head by his feet, the other three zeroed in on her.
Garvan flicked his hand in her direction, flippant. “Get her down.”
Two of them started forward and Maeve pulled herself up onto the railing. “Touch me and I’ll ensure you’re skinned alive just like the merrows your precious prince has murdered.”
