Page 74 of A Court of Hearts and Hunger
I slash his fingers off with my claws.
“The fuck?” Ushur stares at the blood spouting from his mutilated hand.
“It’ll grow back.” I give him my most malevolent grin. “That’s what you said to me, isn’t it?”
Suddenly the crowd around us surges, compacting together. It’s as if the Fae at the edges of the throng have been spooked by something. Voices raise an outcry of alarm, and bursts of magic begin to explode from the borders of the line.
Every instinct in my body lights up with alarm.
Enough of this. Time to get myself through that gate.
Reaching into a wrapped bundle in my satchel, I extract one of the little cakes I plan to use later, to impress the Queen.
“One side will make me grow shorter,” I murmur, “and the other side…”
I nibble a corner of the cake, and immediately my legs and body begin to extend. It’s a strange sensation—bones expanding, joints popping—but it isn’t painful.
I’m head and shoulders above everyone in the line now. Over their heads, I can see the source of the disturbance.
Heartless are pouring out of the trees, racing toward the refugees by the Calamity Gate. Some of the Heartless lope along the ground on all fours; others use their claws to swarm up the city walls. They scuttle along, impossibly fast, and then spring from the wall onto the heads of the Unseelie in the crowd. Screams and blasts of useless magic erupt from the site of each attack.
There’s a contingent of guards at the gate itself, but they’re already retreating inside, along with the Court Manager. The gate slams with a shuddering echo, the finality of doom in the sound.
Everyone outside the gate is being abandoned to their fate. Within the hour, all the Fae in this crowd will be dead, and the numbers of the Heartless will have doubled.
Fuck.
The makeshift tents in the refugee camp are being crushed, their residents being clawed open. The crowd of Unseelie at the gate churns in panic. Some are hurling magic at the oncoming Heartless—which of course does little damage.
“Weapons!” I shout. “They’re resistant to spells. Use weapons!”
But I suspect most of these Fae have already laid aside their weapons, since none are permitted within Mallaithe.
Winged Unseelie leap into the air, gusts of wind beating from their wings as they try to rise. But some of the Heartless can fly, too. The Unseelie are shredded in midair and dragged down, their bodies disappearing instantly under the naked hunched shoulders and flaying claws of the Heartless.
With my exaggerated height, I can see the sheer numbers of the monsters—a swarm blackening the ground between the forest and the city.
God-shit. This is going to be a massacre.
I bite off the remaining half of the cake in my hand. Ushur screams as I begin to swell even larger, rising to ten times my usual height. By a trick of the spell, my clothes grow with me, and so do the knives still concealed in my boots.
The Unseelie roar with shock and fear, fleeing from my huge feet as my gigantic form rears up among them.
This is a spell I’ve been working on since Lir regained his royal powers. He showed off his titanic form to Clara once, and she seemed so impressed I couldn’t resist working on a spell to give myself the same size advantages. I’ve been saving the spell to surprise Clara, once I decided on the perfect time and location to reveal it. I wanted to explore all the sexual possibilities of such a size difference without anyone interrupting us.
But as a giant, I’m also a weapon.
I step carefully over the screaming Unseelie beneath me, crushing a few Heartless under my boot. This spell won’t last long. I need to make quick work of the threat.
It’s immensely satisfying that my mind and my skills are equal to any inherited powers Lir may have. If only he could see me.Not so special, are you, cousin?
I draw my huge knives, leaning down to slash through lines of Heartless. It’s ridiculously easy now. I’d have used this spell earlier in our travels if I hadn’t been trying not to draw too much attention.
The Heartless roar and howl, while the Unseelie cluster against the gate, some shouting to be let in, others shrieking encouragement at me. I kick several Heartless back into the trees, whirl and slash through group coming in from the left, whip my knives through row after row of monsters. I slaughter them as swiftly as I can, conscious of the limits of this spell.
The Heartless must have some sense of self-preservation, because they halt their mad rush, hanging back along the edges of the forest. A good thing, because I can feel the burst of magic beginning to wear off. I shrink slightly, lashing out at another cluster of the monsters before I retreat toward the gate.
At the edge of the Unseelie crowd I see Ushur, trying to force his way past two Seelie females so he can get deeper into the knot of bodies.
