Page 89 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams
Hyllus is holding one cleaver down on the ground, pinning him for Warren as my friend cuts the cleric’s throat. Stratton’s clutching some kind of projectile in his hand as he battles against a cleaver attacking him with jets of fire. The ground to my right is moving, and when I look closer, I see it’s writhing with snakes, hissing and darting out, sinking their fangs into the cleavers’ legs. Damia must’ve called on the distraction she orchestrated for the others and left the serpents to their devices.
Meanwhile, she’s moving like a whirlwind. I sneak up on another cleric, taking him down as I watch her duck and weave, swinging her blade like it’s an extension of her arm. She told me once her sensic magic doesn’t work well on cleavers, but she hardly needs it, her fighting a beautiful dance I can only tear my eyes away from to dodge a stray spell.
A flame flares into existence over by the snakes as an incendi cleaver lowers her hand to torch them.
“Oh no you don’t,” I mutter, burying her in shadow. She shouts, surprised by the sudden darkness, probably wondering why her incendi flames aren’t illuminating anything past her nose.
“Corrin!” Damia shouts. “Barb’s over there!”
“I’m on it,” I say, charging the incendi as she emerges from my shadows and burying a knife in her back. She falls forward, her fire extinguishing, and the snakes quickly swarm to cover her. I turn, searching for Damia again. There are only three cleavers left now, and Warren, Stratton, and Hyllus are each fighting an opponent. I risk running to Damia.
“We need to get out of here,” I say. “Caledon’s here.”
“Yes, I gathered that from the presence of these lovely specimens,” she says, kicking a corpse at her feet. “But we can’t go until we’ve completed the mission.”
“You’re insane,” I say. “No one expects?—”
“Iexpect it,” she says and opens her mouth to say something else, but I don’t hear it.
Warren’s shout of warning gets my full attention, and I act on blind instinct, grabbing her arms and pulling her toward me. A knife spinsthrough the air, the metal singing past her shoulder, but if I hadn’t moved her, I have no doubt it would’ve landed in her neck.
There’s a garbled cry as the fae men quickly end the cleaver who threw it.
“Now do you believe we need to go?” I gasp, still gripping her tight against me.
“But Oclanna—” she protests.
“It’s a suicide mission, Damia. Caledon’s with her right now. You’ll never be able to get close enough to do any damage, and youwillget captured. If you go in there, you’ll be handing your life away to him.”
She pulls away, turning to better face me. Her chest is heaving with exertion, and she looks wildly around us, taking in the dead cleavers and the lights still glinting up at the palace.
“We can’t give up,” she says.
“It’sover,Damia,” I say.
“He’s right,” Stratton pants. “More will be on their way.”
Still, she hesitates, and I want to shake her. What madness is keeping her from letting this go?
“For gods’ sakes, accept that it’s time to leave and live to fight another day,” I say.
“The gods have nothing to do with it,” she spits, and then turns to scoop up a small serpent from the grass—Barb. “But alright, let’s go,” she says.
We exit the same way they came in, at the sagging portion of wall. Warren pulls out the ladder and rope they stashed under the hedge when they came over and sets them up.
“Ladies first,” Warren says.
Damia opens her mouth to argue, but Stratton gets there first. “Shut up, Damia, and do as the man says.”
I hear it then, the backup on its way—many pairs of booted feet sprinting in our direction.
“I can hide us with shadows, but they’ll notice the magic if they search this area long enough,” I say. “So be quick.”
Damia’s over the wall in a few seconds, but it takes Hyllus, the largest and bulkiest of the fae, longer to navigate the rungs and rope. I send Warren up next, leaving me and Stratton.
“Go,” I say. “I’ll lift the shadows once we’re at the top and drop them on the cleavers.”
“Thanks,” Stratton grins, and he starts up the rungs with me close behind him. When we’re halfway up, there’s a shout from behind us. Someone’s detected my magic.
