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Another flare of red made it through the throng, hitting me hard and vicious on my left eyebrow.

Oh, to hell with the ethical concerns, then.

Soft magic unspooled from me like a net cast wide, sweeping up every target it found along the way. The dead woman next to me, her bloodless lips wrenched open in a never-ending scream. The boy to her right, in his nightclothes, hair still tousled from sleep or violence. The stocky man beside them, the crumpled old lady with her knobbly hands, the gangly youth with his unshaven jaw … I tugged at my magic, and their limp bodies shuddered up, inch by inch, away from the earthen wall.

More red flashed around me. Pain bloomed in my shoulder, burning down my arm.

I drew every drop of softness from my velvet shirt.

The net swept up, and they wenthurtling– five dead humans, launched from the lily-covered earth and into the hovering ranks of their murderers like stones thrown by a catapult. Voices cried out in shock. The barrage of red magic faltered. And I was already running, even while I was still pumping the last of my magic into the movement, even while the corpses were still shooting up – grabbed Creon’s arm and sprinted for dear life. Twenty feet. Fifteen—

Red magic slammed into the ground behind me.

‘Thedoor!’ Creon hissed.

I smacked my hand against his wing and drew, a burst of soft magic punching not just the door from its hinges but the door frame from its foundation, too.

Around it, the wall started crumbling.

No time to think – no time to hesitate. Before me, a silvery white flash soared through the collapsing tunnel entrance. We jumped after her without pausing, ducking through the rubble of falling stone and earth, stumbling into the pitch-black dark with nothing but our intertwined hands to guide us.

‘Follow them!’ a voice hollered behind us.

I swung my red back blindly.

Bricks shattered as the magic hit. With an unearthly creaking and groaning, the walls around the entrance caved in entirely, taking clumps of earth along as they collapsed – shutting out the cacophony of the battlefield and taking the last glimmer of daylight with them.

Chapter 35

On the downward slopingfloor, it was difficult to stop running. The upper half of my body kept falling forward. The lower half kept catching it. It took a hard collision with a wooden buttress beam to finally bring me to a standstill, my ears ringing, my chest heaving; next to me, I heard Creon sweep out his wings to slow himself down. His hand still gripped mine with painful force, as if in this impenetrable darkness, he might lose hold of me and never see me again.

‘You …’ I ground out, panting. ‘You …’

His free hand clamped unceremoniously over my mouth.

Right.

Everyone and their mother might be waiting for us in the darkness, straining their ears for any clue of our plans or location.

I nodded, and he let go, the motion followed by the soft whisper of a knife being drawn. The most minuscule spark of yellow flashed through the dark, and the dagger blade lit up like a smouldering chunk of coal, hidden from general view by his wing wrapped around it. His face wasn’t even visible in that dim glow. Just his right hand, which he cautiously extracted from mine to sign,Wounded?

I shook my head, then realised he wouldn’t be able to see that, either.Hardly. My signs were stiffer than his, not nearly as practised.Nothing serious.

If I hadn’t had months of practice interpreting even his quietest breaths and motions, I’d barely have heard his slow exhalation. I certainly wouldn’t have recognised the relief in it.

You?I added quickly.

Judging by the lift of his wing, he was shrugging.I’m fine.

He’d been fine with an arrow in his back, too … but that seemed an unhelpful point to make right now. Soft thuds were coming from the collapsed entrance behind me, the sounds of fae trying to dig us out. We didn’t have time to argue about the exact severity of his injuries.

Instead, I signed,Do I need to point out how useful you’re being?

His scarred fingers stiffened for the briefest moment.I only—

I swatted the rest of his gestures away.

His laughter – just a hitch of his breath, really – said all his hands didn’t.Useful or no, we need to get out of here, cactus.