Page 89 of The Huntsman's Heart
Head distorted at an unnatural angle, the wyrm slithers and rears back, but its eyes are blank and staring straight ahead at the wall.
My arm shoots out automatically to block Raban, protecting him with my body. With my other I hold my sword ready as I drop into a crouch. “Stay back.”
“What is happening?”
I look around at him and see my own fear mirrored in his expression. “The princess!”
We race back to the gate with the dead things right behind us. Their movements are slow but their legs are longer than ours so we barely outpace them.
“Open the gates!” I call up to the guards.
To their credit, the gate begins to rise immediately. I duck and roll underneath, shouting up to the guards to close them again.
It doesn’t take very long before it becomes apparent we are fighting a losing battle, though.
The gates clank into place, but the monstrous wights pound on them over and over until the whole wall shakes. Tiny stone fragments start to chip from the walls. The guards in the tower above clutch the battlements.
“It is no use. Open them.”
“Are you mad?” Edmund calls, his face contorted into an expression of disbelief.
“Just do what I say! The walls cannot withstand this and it is not us they want.”
When he doesn’t respond, I run to the steps and take them two at a time. I come to the top of the tower just as Edmund starts turning the crank. “I hope you know what you are doing, Sir Alaric.”
“Me too.”
We watch as the gate slowly opens even as the monsters continue throwing themselves against it. Metal warps, but it holds long enough to come to a shuddering stop most of the way up.
It’s enough. The dead wolves and the wyrm drag themselves through the gap and pass on, not even turning to look at Raban who stands a few feet away staring. He has more trust in my instincts than I do.
“Close it again.” I tell Edmund. “But let the dead ones pass. I’m going to stop this.”
I race for my horse. By the time I’m in the saddle, Raban is already in the air. “Fly ahead. Warn Corvin and Guin.” If she’s in any state to be warned is what I think to myself but do not say.
Raban’s grim expression tells me he’s thinking the same thing.
Corvin
When the princess collapses, I’m ashamed to say I’m relieved. Quickly, I catch her in my arms and shake her gently. “Princess, remember what happened last time. You have to let them go.”
Her eyelids flicker, but she doesn’t respond. Alaric will know what to do.
Shoving the dead king unceremoniously into the crypt, I slam the door with a nudge of my hip and push the bolt into its fixing.
Immediately the banging starts up again, but I ignore it. I hurry up the steps, tucking my wings in tight to pass through the narrow passageway. It takes me a few wrong turns down dark corridors to get to the tower room we entered through. As soon as I find it, Évandre rushes over from his position by the chair where we tied the queen. “What happened?”
“The same as last time. I cannot rouse her.”
“Lay her on the bed.”
I do and we both look down at her. “No sign of the others?”
Évandre shakes his head.
From her chair, the queen glares at us. Évandre has stuffed a gag into her mouth, which seems wise. I’m tempted to blindfold her too, just so she can’t see our princess like this.
At least Guinevere’s skin is healing. Where it was sore and blistered before, it has smoothed, and the only traces of the angry red welts are faint pink patches. Strangely, her hair has also started to grow back again, nearly reaching her shoulders now where it was burned away right up to her scalp before.
