Page 10 of Wicked Prince of Shadows
My pulse thudded so hard it made my chest ache, and my breath came fast, shallow, edged with panic. Stone dust rained down, stinging my eyes and clinging to the sweat on my skin.
I ground my teeth together, every nerve alive with the need to run, to flee, todo somethingbefore the walls closed in and crushed me.
The wailing roar grew louder as another tremor shook the palace, nearly knocking me off my feet. Cracks spiderwebbed across the stone floor beneath us as chunks of ceiling crashed down. One of the guards shouted something I couldn't make out over the din.
The southern and eastern walls sounded like they were especially dangerous. He wanted me to get into an open place. Seemed like the right call in what was the equivalent of a beast attack and an earthquake as opposed to getting indoors. He needed me alive, so that meant it would be reasonably safe on the northern side facing away from the chasm. That probably meant there were extra guards there to protect the vulnerable. If I were to escape, I needed to get out. That left the western side as my best bet and the fastest course to get to the chasm and cross to the portal.
Assuming that the cardinal directions were the same here with the sun setting in the east, I just needed to place it. I ran away from the roaring bellows and shrieking wails, the marble floor shaking.
As I raced out into the hall, I caught sight of the arched windows. Weak light filtered through, highlighting the dust and ash in the air. Coughing, I made my way forward as steady as a drunken sailor and slammed my hands down to peer out up into the sky.
There!
That weak, watery sun was visible enough through the haze of low clouds to give me my bearings.
Right now I was facing an inner courtyard, empty of everything but pale statues with eroded features, urns with withered plants, and grey and white tiled paths. The outer palace walls rose higher with their towers at regular intervals.
While a few flew, most of the guards ran along the top toward the east and the source of danger, but I still couldn’t see whatever was wailing and bellowing. A few started slashing and hacking at something on the rampart, and one flung something that looked like a dog-sized beetle over the edge. The pale-silver insect snapped its legs out and drove them into the stone wall. Small cracks formed beneath its feet as it shot back up to attack.
My stomach lurched. I’d thought I was good at killing big bugs after handling my own gardens so close to the forest, but these were massive! If I was lucky, I prayed I wouldn’t run into any of those.
Smacking my hand against the stone, I spun around and ran.
Another distorted roar shuddered through the palace, followed by heavy thuds. I ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction, bare feet pounding across the marble. When the floor shook again, a chunk of an archway cracked down. I slipped and slid just out of reach as it punched through the tile and sent up a wave of silt.
My eyes burning, I staggered forward.
I made it to the end of the hall and out into another courtyard. No one was out here either, but I was clearly headed west, the sun properly placed in the dull sky.
The coarse stone walls of the palace here were far rougher than I’d expected. It was as if someone had just sketched them in. Only weeds and sparse growths filled the planters and raised beds here, and a manticore statue in the center of the fountain had snapped in half. The bitter taste of ash remained heavy on my tongue.
Another deeper, heavier roar sounded, followed by a deep thudding tremor. The walls went taut as one of the towers some forty feet away swayed. Jagged cracks formed at tension points. I threw my arm up to shield my face from flying debris as I charged forward. Chunks of rock fell behind me as an archway collapsed. The tower on the left side of the western wall gave another sickening lurch, then with a thunderous crack, it toppled, ripping up part of the wall. Grey and charcoal beetles scurried up its side along with massive centipedes.
The ground lurched again. Whatever that behemoth was, it was getting closer. I could feel it in the rhythm of the tremors—no longer distant and sporadic but powerful and deliberate, like massive footsteps.
“Drive it back! Focus on the nostrils and the eye sockets!” The Hollow King’s voice rang out from the air above. I twisted around to tip my head back and squint.
The Hollow King rose into the sky, his dark eels flying with him. His wings had spread out as the shadows swirled around him like a cyclone. Then they shot down toward something I still couldn’t see.
Heavy footsteps shook the earth. Then a massive form leaped up, landing heavily on one of the towers.
My stomach twisted with terror. That had to be the behemoth, a hulking mass of stone-grey flesh and ridgedmuscles with massive foreclaws. It tore through the top of the tower as if it were little more than brittle dry clay. Instead of eyes, it had gaping sockets and an oversized jaw with an underbite and large slanted nostrils. Its great claws gouged into the broken stone, dragging it forward as beetles the size of dogs scuttled across its limbs and centipedes with armor-thick plates poured around it in a tide.
Guards flew toward it, halberds striking down, sparks flying where metal scraped against chitin. Above, the Hollow King shot into the air, his smoky wings spread wide, his eel-beasts gliding with him like streaks of lightning. He dove, slamming his claws into the creature’s hide while his warriors rained steel from above.
My legs nearly buckled. Fear prickled like needles through my skin. The ground trembled with every step of the behemoth. I knew this was it—this was my only chance.
Other winged guards rose in the air. A dark-grey winged warrior pointed toward the east. “Deathbeaks from the salt flats!”
“KLAK-KLAK-KLAK-KLAK!”
I froze at the deep rattling sound, my blood chilling. What in the Maker’s name was a deathbeak? Obviously nothing good.
"Defensive positions!" Someone shouted on the other side.
“Don’t let the deathbeaks near the northern courtyard!” another shouted. “Silver Squadron, get to the half walls.”
“Don’t let the behemoth through,” the Hollow King bellowed. His attention snapped to the right as a large grey bird shot toward him, its heavy armored beak opening. His shadows lashed out and snared around it like a rope, then flung it down.
