Page 43 of The Grip of Death
The king’s gardeners and several of the guests had already begun to beat the overgrowth back, but with the cake still spitting out its contents like some deranged piñata, who knew how long it would take before the Palace of Briars was once again transformed into a choked, thorn-filled death trap?
“Whitby and I will find a way,” Lore said, zipping off into the crowd. I appreciated his initiative, but something about his tone told me that Gertrude needed to watch her back. And her front.
“The fucking nerve of her,” I muttered. “The last person I expected. A guild master, too. Why would she go through all this trouble, and at our wedding, too? How could this possibly get any worse?”
“Remember Titania’s plan. The Chrysanthemysts lay the groundwork for corruption. It saps power where it grows, sending it back to those who control it, and now it’s growing right in Oberon’s backyard.” Xander tugged on my jacket. “And don’t look now, but things have just gone from bad to worse.”
The crystals had transformed again, the vines sprouting the familiar deadly blooms of the Chrysanthemyst. But now the petals were falling, the shards of crystal reshaping themselvesuntil they resembled little stars. And then the stars began to stretch — four limbs and an awful, spiny head.
Sharp and spindly things. Slender gauzy wings. The Fractures.
“Oh, fuck,” I breathed.
The Fractures screeched as they staggered outward, lunging and slashing at anyone nearby. The guests screamed, though most of those attending weren’t at all the kind to flee from a fight. Whether or not that was a good thing remained to be seen.
I clenched my fist, instinct and muscle memory instructing me to send a flow of essence to the Gauntlet — except I wasn’t wearing it. I hadn’t even brought it with me to the Verdance.
“Not that I want to make this a big thing,” I grumbled to Xander, “but I really wish you would have let me wear the Gauntlet to the wedding. Or at least let Beatrice take the sleeves out so I could keep it under the table or something. In case of emergencies. Like this one.”
Xander nodded attentively as he kicked over our table to use as cover. “I love you too, babe. Glacia! Who would have guessed our first fight as a married couple would involve weaponizing menswear?”
“This isn’t a fight,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder for taking down a Fracture. “That over there is a fight. Those people need our help.”
I leaned forward into a run, except that my jacket suddenly felt so much harder to move in. Lifting my arms wasn’t supposed to be this damn difficult. I frowned down at myself, only then noticing the brush of Beatrice’s hand along the front of my suit. Magic trailed from her fingertips, sinking into the fibers of the fabric.
“Speaking of weaponizing menswear — sorry, Jack, you should sit this one out. I put a silkensteel spell on your suit.Makes the material tough as hell, but your mobility’s gonna take a hit. At least you’ll be safe.”
“Thanks, B. Xander gave me a shield, too, but better safe than sorry. Gods, this spell you cast — did it have to be so tight?”
Beatrice’s eyes rolled down, then up my body, her lips twisting with disappointment.
“You really should have let me tailor the sleeves enough to accommodate the Gauntlet.”
Xander smirked. “Yeah, Jack. You really should have let her.”
My jaw fell. “You guys are going to kill me. Not the Fractures. You two, specifically.”
Bedlam at the Palace of Briars. Good thing so many of our friends and guests were capable of erecting their own magical defenses. Calls of “Arma!” echoed across the gardens, flashes of red light as the Grayhaven boys threw up their shields.
Sedgewick had engaged every single candle on the premises, conjuring great gouts of flame to harass and dazzle the Fractures. Master Lobelia exerted her will over the native flora to rip them apart, summoning strange and terrifying plants from around the gardens to help in the fight.
Edric and Wilhelmina fired spells like a pair of magical gunslingers, launching the elements from their fingertips. Reza was an actual magical gunslinger, his refined mastery controlling the flight of his ensorcelled bullets and ensuring that they only struck their intended targets.
But we stood a better chance if we cut this off at the source, and I had nothing better to do. I squeezed Xander’s hand and gave him a peck on the cheek.
“I’ll be back.”
His eyes widened. “Oh, no. You’re quoting action movies. Jackson Aurelius Pryde, don’t you dare — ”
I vaulted over our table, risking the loss of cover, but I had a shielding spell, a silkensteel jacket, and bravado on my side, plusI looked really cool doing it. Fighting the new stiffness of my suit I shuffled as fast as I could go down the garden, making a beeline for the wedding cake from hell.
Poor Lore, crafting the perfect cake only for Gertrude Goodness to use it as a Trojan horse packed with actual grenades. Poor us for having to suffer through this bullshit at our wedding. And the poor fae, King Oberon’s kindness repaid by his ex-wife’s posthumous attempt to repave their palace into a dystopian crystal hellscape.
I struggled out of my jacket, muttering obscenities the entire time. It felt like someone had overstarched it, then starched it some more, turning it into more of a sculpture than a garment. I clenched my teeth as I eyed the gash in the wedding cake, still never slowing its relentless release of Chrysanthemyst grenades. How many of these glass eggs had we actually sold to Mother Dough? Did Gertrude really load all of them by herself?
Ripping the jacket off my arms with one final triumphant roar, I slammed it over the opening, sealing the hole in the cake. I stood back, watching warily to see if it would hold. My pulse thumped in my temples. Glass and crystal clinked as the eggs collided with each other, but the jacket didn’t budge.
The jacket was indestructible, a ringing endorsement for Beatrice Rex’s boutique. I waited to see if the cake’s contents would explode out the sides instead, but nothing. A belated cheer went up from around the gardens. Now we only had to clean up the last of the Fractures and Chrysanthemysts.
