Page 66 of Wicked Prince of Shadows
My mouth went dry, and the sickening feeling in my stomach twisted harder. Gone? Was there enough left to survive the day and into the night? What if the creatures attacked again? All of the magical restoration had taken place before this, and everything that still stood would be weakened.
"Casualties?" Vetle's voice was clipped, controlled, but I heard the strain beneath it.
"None so far. We had everyone as you ordered, but the walls?—"
“Yes.” Vetle stepped back. He straightened his robe and then spoke louder above the murmuring. “It’s past midnight, and this is our last day here. But we must survive until the curse can be dealt with. Guards, begin searching the walls. Baza, Keldron, if repairs must be made or weak points shored up, create teams. Everyone else, move everything possible to the farthest reaches away from the chasm. Set up shelters out in the northern courtyards so that we use this space without as much fear of deathbeaks. The children and elderly should remain out here in the courtyard until we determine whether the palace is safe.”
I pushed myself up on trembling legs, my arms still wrapped protectively around the children clustered against me. Osric had a protective grip on my waist, his expression grim. The dust made it hard to see more than a few feet in any direction, but I could hear voices calling out—guards coordinating, people checking on loved ones, the shuffle of movement as everyone tried to orient themselves.
"Can we stand up now?" one of the smaller children asked, her voice muffled against my side.
"Yes, but stay close." I helped them to their feet one by one, checking each for injuries. A few scrapes, some bruises, but miraculously nothing serious. Osric scrubbed his hand over his face.
"That was worse than before," he whispered grimly.
I squeezed his shoulder. “I know.”
The dust was beginning to settle, revealing the full extent of the damage. Great chunks of marble had been torn up, leaving gaping holes that showed the foundation stones beneath. The outer wall beyond the courtyard had been visibly weakened in several areas just from this vantage point alone, confirming the risk of opening the courtyard to the wasteland beyond.
I took a breath. Dust clung to the back of my throat, dry and bitter, but it wasn’t just the grit that made it hard to swallow.
An eeriness had settled over us. The music, the laughter, the dancing—that felt like a memory belonging to another life. Everyone was moving slowly as if rousing to life. The courtyard at least appeared relatively safe. The walls were strong enough to protect against roaming chitter hounds. For now.
The children still huddled close, wide-eyed and shaking. Their hands clutched my skirts and arms, the edges of one another’s sleeves, anything solid. I bent low, brushing a bit of stone from a boy’s shoulder and tucking a loose strand of hair behind a girl’s ear.
“We’re all right,” I said gently. “You did so well. All of you. If your parents or guardians are here, then you should let them know you’re all right, but don’t go inside. If you want something to do, then you can help me.”
They looked up at me, wary but listening.
“I want you to find some good stones—smooth ones, about this big.” I held my hands apart, showing the size of a small loaf of bread. “We’ll use them to hold down whatever we use to make shelter. If you find broken wood, set it aside too, all right? Don’t step on anything without testing it first. Don’t crawl into any holes.”
A few exchanged glances, then Osric gave a nod. “Come on,” he said, already moving. The others followed, some slower than others, but all with purpose.
I stood and dusted off my hands, squinting through the shifting haze. Figures moved through the courtyard. Some were already working to right the overturned tables and test out twisted marble slabs. Others moved chunks of rubble.
There was no panic. Just steady efforts to reclaim this place, even though the uncertainty of these next hours loomed over us all. The guards flew to the outer walls and began their search while some remained behind and moved out the largest chunks of marble and rock.
Fear gnawed within me even as I prayed and cleaned. So many questions and so little time left.
Vetle passed near the northern archway, speaking to one of his captains in a low voice. He caught my gaze across the courtyard, and for a heartbeat we just looked at each other. Everything in me wanted to go to him now and hide in the strength of his arms, but I just lifted my chin.
A slight smile curved his lips. Those same lips that had worshipped me and claimed me. I could still feel the echo of his body pressed to mine, the weight of his love, the promise in hisvoice. But now there was a different weight on his shoulders—familiar, but heavier than before.
Then Maltric approached him, his steps heavy and favoring his right side.
Vetle listened to whatever Maltric was saying and frowned. I couldn’t hear from where I stood, nor was I the best at reading lips. Yet as I watched them speak, it seemed as if Vetle said, “it means what?” And as his manner intensified, his hands then braced against his waist as he scowled and leaned forward.
Whatever Maltric said troubled him, and his wings flared, then snapped against his back. He disappeared beneath the arch with Maltric behind him.
I wanted to run after him and ask what had happened. But something held me back.
I focused again on tidying up the courtyard and clearing space for the makeshift shelters.
Osric knelt on the ground beside a large jagged chunk of boulder, the same place where he had been painting, his brow furrowed with thin lines. He pushed at the rock, but it didn’t budge, splatters of color leaking beneath it. I hurried to his side, placing my hand on his shoulder. “What is it?” I asked.
“It fell…on my paints. That was all I had left.” His voice was tight as his face pinched. “Paintings are gone too. But I wanted to see if I could save any of them. Unless they’re just…gone. I think they’re gone.”
His voice cracked on that last word. The way his face twisted to stop the tears cut me deeply.
