Page 9 of Forged By Heart and Claws
Myantha nodded meekly. Thalen's brow tweaked, but he remained silent.
I pointed at her. “If you betray my beloved, I will destroy you without a second thought, and I will ensure you suffer.” Then I looked at Thalen. “I need your dagger for Rhielle since she can see in the darkness.”
Nodding, he handed it to me, and I passed it to Rhielle. Briar still had her dagger, and I had my claws. Since they insisted on being out, handling any other weapon with finesse would be challenging. Everyone who could see might as well be armed.
Another thunderous crash rocked the door, rattling the furniture barricade. The dresser slid forward several inches, its legs scraping against the couch.
"Feck them. They're breaking through!" Rhielle darted forward, pressing her shoulder against the furniture pile. Briar joined her, bracing herself against the shifting mass and pushing one of the velvet chairs back into place.
I moved quickly to help them, ignoring the burning pain in my wing as I threw my weight against the barricade. A jagged crack appeared in an upper door panel as another impact shook the frame. The dresser wobbled precariously, threatening to topple. Angry bellows rose as someone shouted for more light.
Briar grunted beside me, her face flushed with exertion. "They're getting angrier."
"Let them waste their energy." I shoved the dresser into a more stable position. “Veralt?”
“It’s clear. Far as I can see.” He pushed himself up from the ground near the door, then snatched up the broken spear, still wet with my blood. “But it’s time tomove. Do you understand?”
The furniture creaked as we forced it back into place. More wood splintered, and a heavy crack suggested that someone had gotten an axe.
I shoved the couch against the door again, checked to ensure that two swords were still in place, and glanced around at everyone. "Let’s go." I gave the furniture barricade one final shove, ensuring it would hold for at least a few more minutes. The door frame creaked under the pressure from the other side, another heavy blow landing.
I thrust my hand into my own pocket to retrieve the keys. When the palace had been built, sigils had been used to protect almost everything, but my own ancestors had insisted that we have traditional locks as well, in case something disrupted the magic. Fate bless them for their foresight.
I thrust the slim key into the lock of the other door and twisted it. It clicked open, and I eased the door ajar, peering into the darkness beyond. Even with my natural Shadow Fae vision,it took effort to see. The hallway stretched out in both directions, furnished with the odd end table and several oil paintings. The air smelled of incense and smoke, no trace of blood or death. A touch of stale emptiness undercut all of it, as if to remind me that the magic of our kingdom had vanished.
We made our way out slowly, those who could see helping those who couldn’t. Veralt took a position near me and strode farther down the corridor, head cocked as he listened. I drew Thalira and Quen out and guided them to the wall, whispering for them to follow it in a straight line until they reached Veralt.
Briar gripped Yuki’s and her Many-Greats-Grandfather’s hands. Rhielle took hold of Thalen and Myantha, and Vyraetos guided Velessa and Silus out, walking between them while Silus carried Elara. Once they reached the narrower hall, he pressed Velessa in front and put his hand on her shoulder.
A deafening crash against the barricaded door punctuated my orders. The furniture shifted again, more violently this time. Wood splintered.
Feck.
I closed the door, locked it, then grabbed the nearest ebony end table that sat beneath the painting. This wasn’t going to hold long, but every second gave us an advantage. I lay the painting on the stone floor and put it at an angle so that it would strike the wall when someone tried the door—with any luck, it would buy us a few minutes—and then I jammed the rug under the door as far as I could.
I slid to the front of the group. Other than Vyraetos, I was the only one with sight who knew the palace, and I was the only one who could seeandknew where we were going.
The palace was full of intersecting passages, and these were at least finished. I hoped that we could make it to one of the larger halls before a fight broke out. Choke points like this were death traps.
My nostrils flared. This corridor smelled of fear and sweat, our scents mingling. The cracking and pounding against the door of the groom's chamber grew steadily softer and duller. Distant shouts confirmed that the search continued.
I took us down the next hall and up a small flight of stairs toward the older corridors. The cut marble walls were coarser here and pitted with age. It wasn’t the fastest route to the royal family’s quarters, but it was the least likely path our enemies would search. They’d be planning ambushes, and there would almost assuredly be one set up before the main entrance to the royal family’s quarters. The locks would hold for a time, so long as the most trusted servants who had been given those keys could not be found. I had one and Elara another.
A distant crash echoed from behind us—they'd broken through the first door. My pulse quickened, and I took us through another turn in the halls. Every breath and footstep still seemed too loud.
I paused at another intersection, listening. Distant shouts echoed from the main corridors—they were organizing search parties but seemed confused about which direction we'd taken. Good. Let them waste time searching the wrong areas.
We slipped from the narrow passages nearest the outer walls to the broader halls that led to the center of the palace. The pitted black marble became sleek and smooth again. We were nearing the eastern way. Ahead lay a series of halls that went in eight directions. We'd need to be even more cautious. With the numerous walls and open paths, it'd be easier for us to be spotted or ambushed.
A voice from an upcoming side hall cut through the darkness. “Your Majesty.” A soldier stepped in front of me, his hand snapping up in a salute. He bowed his head. “Come with me, Your Majesty.”
I hesitated, my arm stretched out to make sure Briar stayed behind me. My instincts prickled, warning me that something was off.
He had no wings and no helmet, so he was one of the lower guards. His lighter colored studded-leather rather than black-plate armor suggested he was a scout, though he did not wear insignia. It was little wonder we hadn’t heard him. His soft leather boots and lack of metal plates meant he could move silently, even without magic to mask his steps.
“Come with you where?” I asked coldly. “Who are you? Identify yourself.”
The guard dipped his head forward, his sleek black hair shifting with the movement. “I am Otnel of the Second Scouting Guard. Please. Come with me. I'll get you to safety."
