Page 67 of Forged By Heart and Claws
He nodded and turned, accepting the warning without flinching. "This way, Your Majesties. Stay close. The passages aren't secure, and the shadow beasts have gone mad."
I moved after him, ducking low to pass through the narrow split. The ceiling lifted on the other side, the stone walls ascending upward in a sharp incline.
“How far is it?” Briar clutched my hand, her breathing steady despite her condition.
“Not too far, Your Majesty.” The guard glanced back. Though his sword stayed at his side, his grip had tightened. “We cleared out the tunnels as we searched, but the area is unstable. The yellow-eyed shadow beasts are attacking everyone. But the red-eyed ones… they are different. They seem to be looking for something.” He swallowed and dropped his voice. “They don’t even look at us. Just pass by like we’re nothing. Terrifying in their own way, but better than the others. The yellow ones will tear you apart before you can scream.”
“What’s your name, soldier?” Briar spoke in a quiet voice, but it carried easily through the stone corridor. She walked with steady grace despite her exhaustion.
“Brelven, son of Theln.” He led us to the right as the tunnel forked and the incline grew steeper with every step. The stone walls shifted from deep jet and charcoal to a softer, cooler slate gray. We were moving into the western side of the palace. If Finbar had formed a rebellion and taken control of one of the lower outposts, the direction made sense because those were located just beneath the palace level, but a couple of levels higher than the vesting chamber. They were isolated and defensible butcould be blocked off and turned into a trap by anyone who knew the terrain.
If Finbar’s soldiers were stationed here, it meant the primary paths were either secured or laid with traps. I hoped Thalen’s caution would serve the rest of our group well. I didn’t want us all converging into one place yet, not until I knew the full extent of Finbar’s forces and whether their loyalty to Briar matched their loyalty to me.
As we continued upward, the passage widened. The air smelled less stale here, with hints of leather and oil. Brelven slowed his pace and raised a hand in a cautionary gesture.
"We're approaching a checkpoint," he whispered. "Don’t be alarmed."
We rounded a sharp corner and came upon two Shadow Fae guards blocking a narrow stone archway. Their armor was better maintained than Brelven’s, but their expressions were taut with exhaustion. Their hands hovered near their weapons.
"Halt," the taller one commanded. Then his eyes locked with mine, and his entire stance shifted. "Your Majesty? You’re alive."
“So I am.” I lifted my chin and gently tugged Briar closer to me.
Brelven stepped between us and the guards. “Captain Finbar requested they be brought directly to him. He’s in the war room.”
The guards shared a brief glance. The shorter one gave a stiff nod. “He’ll want to see them immediately.”
I studied them carefully, noting the way their gazes darted between Briar and me.
I narrowed my gaze. “Before we proceed, I want your oaths. Do you swear loyalty to me and to Queen Briar?”
Without hesitation, both men dropped to one knee, fists clenched to their chests.
“Our lives are yours, Your Majesty,” the taller one said. “For the crown. For the queen.”
Briar linked to me, the bond warm with amusement despite her pain.Are you going to make every person we meet swear loyalty to me like that?
Of course, I linked back.
The guards stood and stepped aside.
As we passed through the arch, a large cavern spread before us, roughly carved but well-organized. Torches lined the walls, casting a golden glow over the shadows within.
Roughly fifteen soldiers and a handful of servants moved about with quiet purpose. Five guards crouched at makeshift tables, repairing armor or sharpening blades. Two sat near crates of crossbow bolts, testing the balance before sliding them into quivers. Others organized supplies along the back wall by stacking crates, unrolling maps, tying bundles of cloth and bandages.
The cavern hummed with urgent energy, the soldiers speaking in hushed tones as they worked. Torches lined the walls, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Despite the circumstances, there was order here—purpose.
“This way,” Brelven said, cutting through the cavern’s center.
I kept Briar close, wrapping one wing slightly around her without drawing attention. Her fingers tightened in mine, but her posture stayed straight, with no hint of weakness.
A few soldiers paused as we passed, some bowing their heads, others dropping to one knee. I didn’t trust them. All it took was one traitor.
These were soldiers who’d bled under Colm’s attack. Some had likely watched friends die because of him. But loyalty to me didn’t guarantee loyalty to Briar, not when propaganda and fear had twisted so many truths.
I didn’t like being this exposed. And judging by the twitch of Briar’s fingers against my palm, neither did she.
I moved my hand to her elbow, guiding her through the activity. Her gaze swept the cavern, noting exits and soldiers, every movement calculated. Even battered and burned, she was a warrior—sharp, deliberate, alert.
