Page 65 of Wicked Prince of Shadows
The words had barely left his lips when the ground bucked and ripped beneath us.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Istumbled, my body slamming into Vetle's chest as the marble floor rippled like water. All around us, screams erupted. The music cut off mid-note, instruments clattering to the ground as the musicians scrambled for balance.
"Everyone down and away from the walls!" Vetle's command rang out as his arms locked around me, steadying me as the world tilted sideways.
The shaking intensified. Lanterns swung wildly on their chains, casting manic shadows across the courtyard. One broke free, crashing to the stone in an explosion of glass and oil that ignited in a burst of flame in the middle of the courtyard and then snuffed out as stone and grit crushed over it.
I clung to Vetle, my fingers digging into his robe as my legs threatened to give out. The roar of grinding stone filled my ears, so loud I couldn't hear my own breathing. Cracks spider-webbed across the marble floor, racing outward from the center of the courtyard in jagged lightning patterns.
“Osric!” I cried out. “Where’s Osric?”
Vetle's head whipped toward the far side of the courtyard. "There!" He pointed, and I followed his gaze to see Osric stumbling toward us, his arms wrapped around two smallerchildren. Behind him, more children followed, holding onto each other as they navigated the bucking floor.
"Come here!" I reached for them as they got close, pulling Osric and the little ones against me. They crashed into my chest, their small bodies trembling. Three more children made it to us, then two more, all of them crying or whimpering in terror. I gathered them as best I could, my arms wrapping around as many as would fit while the others pressed close.
"Down! Get down!" Vetle commanded, his wings flaring wide to shield us as he guided us into a crouch. The children and I curled together, away from the walls and towers that groaned and swayed above us. I curled over them, trying to make myself a barrier between their bodies and whatever was coming. Some of the other guests and guards pressed the other children, the aged, and the ill into the center as well, forming a protective ring as those who had wings extended and covered all they could.
Vetle's hand pressed against my shoulder. "Stay here in the center. Don't move unless I tell you to." His voice was steel, absolute authority cutting through the chaos.
"Where are you?—"
But he was already gone, his wings beating hard as he launched himself into the air. The downdraft from his takeoff nearly knocked me over, and I tightened my grip on the children, anchoring us all against each other.
I looked up, watching him rise above the courtyard, above the palace towers, his silhouette stark against the setting blood moon. His wings spread wide as he hovered, scanning the destruction below and beyond the walls. Then he dropped back down and spread his wings out over us.
Maker, help us!
The whole world screamed as everyone pressed in on one another. Cracks in the marble floor widened, chunks of stone breaking free and splitting like glass. The lanterns that hadn'tfallen yet swung in wild arcs, their light making everything seem surreal and nightmarish.
A section of the eastern wall collapsed with a thunderous roar that made my ears ring. Dust and debris billowed across the courtyard, and I ducked my head, shielding the children's faces as the cloud engulfed us.
Then everything went deathly still.
Vetle's jaw tightened, his amber eyes scanning the destruction. I coughed, tasting grit and ash on my tongue as the dust settled around us. The children whimpered against me, their small hands clutching at my gown.
"Is it over?" Osric's voice was barely a whisper against my shoulder.
“Are we safe?” another child asked.
I wanted to say yes, wanted to promise that the worst had passed. But I couldn’t lie. "I don't know, sweetheart." My ears rang from the cacophony of the collapse, making everything sound muffled and far away. Slowly everything came back to life.
Vetle's wings remained spread above us for a breath more before he drew them back, his body tense and ready. I watched the line of his shoulders, the way his head moved as he scanned the ruins. Something in his posture made my stomach clench with dread even more.
The palace—or at least this section—hadn’t been dragged into the chasm if the chasm had expanded. But that didn’t mean there hadn’t been a cost. Somehow in my gut, I knew the chasm had grown. How much had it taken? The outer walls? An outer courtyard?
Vetle reached for my face, tilting it up to examine me. His thumb brushed across my cheekbone, wiping away dust and grit. "Are you hurt?" His voice was rough with barely restrained emotion.
"I'm fine," I said, though my whole body trembled from adrenaline. "The children?—"
"Osric?" He shifted his attention down. Osric remained pressed against my side.
"I'm all right." Osric's voice wavered but held steady. "We made it, but we shouldn’t have any more earthquakes. I don’t think the palace will hold.”
“If it can be avoided, it should be.” Something in Vetle's expression softened for just a heartbeat. His hand moved from mine as he checked on the remaining children around us and gripped the arms of others to ensure they were safe.
"Your Majesty!" A guard's voice called out from somewhere beyond the archway. "The southeastern wing is gone. And the southwestern wing is too unstable to enter.”
