Page 144 of Atop the Faerie Throne
Somehow, despite everything that went wrong with the tunnel wyrms, we have a chance.
Swallowing, I lean back against the wall, head falling back on a groan of relief. I need to use this moment to recover my wits, so I’m ready when it’s time to play my part. Closing the portal will take a lot of magic, and I’d rather not die from doing it if I can avoid it.
The fiery prick of iron at my throat stops me.
My eyes dart to one side.
Elatha.
His hands—still missing one finger—clutch a long iron halberd. It’s a huge weapon, the metal haft long enough to pass through my protective golden bubble, which is useless against the iron. The sharp edge is pressed so tightly against my neck that my gasp brings a burst of pain. His mouth quirks as I take in my situation, and my stomach clenches with fear.
Can he take my head before Jaro realises and expands my shield?
If I die now, no one else can close the portal.
Danu. Goddess. No. I can’t fail.
My brain fights against the iron-induced fog, struggling to think my way out of this.
The weapon lifts, his swing lined up and ready to take my head. I send a frantic pulse of fear to my mates, praying that one of them can fix this.
The answer doesn’t come from where I expect.
The whole room explodes from below, the floor churning with the force of the impact.
My redcap bursts out of the floor with two daggers sunk into a beaten and bloodied tunnel wyrm.
“SORRY I’M LATE!” he crows. “I made afriend!”
All of the magic in the room falters as everyone involved stops fighting and ducks for cover. Boulders shower us, a dreadfully familiar whirring hiss echoing off the walls during Bree’s ensuing lapse of control.
The distraction, and sudden, deafening rush of sound, is enough to make Elatha fumble. I throw myself to one side before he can recover, ignoring everything else as I frantically dive for safety, crawling away on my hands and knees. My vision is full of dead bodies and blue legs as the Fomorians momentarily lose composure.
“Caedmon Fomorii,” Elatha booms, his voice echoing above the carnage. “Use your slave magic to defeat the Guard and bring me the Nicnevin?—”
The sound is sucked away again, but it’s too late. Caed’s anguish hits me as the heavy silence returns full force. Stifling a wince, I launch myself into the air, wings screaming as I struggle to fly above the mute chaos, heading straight for the portal. He can’t catch me up here. I just need to get to that arch and close it. If I do that, I can die. We’ll choose the Otherworld. Faerie will be safe, and my Guard and I… we’ll be together.
Almost there.Almost?—
“No!” I scream mutely, as a ghost sword slices through my wings.
It’s not a precise cut. It doesn’t have to be. My back spasms, the muscles crying out in agony.
I don’t have time to brace for impact. The Fomorians are too busy trying to deal with the tunnel wyrm to think about catching me, so I slam into?—
Fur?
Jaro. His wolf is splayed beneath me, having barged through a small army to break my fall. I roll off him with a low sob as I watch the purple filaments that once graced the right-hand side of my back flutter down around us like shredded tissue. The remaining three on my left spasm, flicking up, only to seize as the action makes the stubby remnants of their counterparts erupt. The pain is brutal, but my mind is blank with numb shock, my limbs shaking as I crawl backwards.
My wolf rises and snaps at the Fomorians, who’ve finally noticed the prey in their midst.
White noise fills my ears. Blood is pouring from my back, adding to the slippery mess that coats my skin. My armour scrapes, digging into sore muscles as I drag my trembling body up the first step, then the next. All around me, the Fomorians are fighting with renewed resolve, throwing themselves into the chaos.
I can make it.One hand, then the next.Just keep going.
A hand grasps beneath my arm, my mating bond sparking with regret and resolve as Caed drags me to my feet, sword in hand as he… helps me up the steps?
A burst of sound rocks into the two of us, sending me stumbling into him, forcing my heavy head up.
