Page 150 of With Wing And Claw
Gods have mercy. What was goingon? This was supposed to be a lone battle, Thysandra Demonbane against the rest of the world – her own mistakes, her own damn penance. Why would any of her allies be madenough to fight the inevitable when they should be running for their own dear lives?
And yet …
First the archivists. Then the humans.
And now the barrage of red had all but dried up as more and more fae turned towards the uproar instead, where Silas’s bargain-bound puppets were breaching the lines of Nicanor’s army with too much success to ignore. Thysandra’s head spun. Her wings ached. She barely had the presence of mind to draw the last blue from her dress and heal the worst of her injuries, and it did not even matter.
Others were fighting on her behalf.
The world suddenly seemed so …light.
Someone lunged for her in a half-hearted attack, and she countered equally half-heartedly, stumbling along with the horde as it began to move. Already Orthea and the others were withdrawing. Thysandra tried to fight her way out of the crowd of wings and bodies but didn’t manage – dragged along as if by the currents of the ocean, down the corridor, around the corner, fielding off blades and magic as Nicanor’s force turned its focus towards the greater danger. Faster and faster did the attackers retreat. Into the east wing and—
Oh no.
Towards the bone hall?
‘No,’ she gasped, breathlessly, mindlessly, trying once again to elbow her way out of the throng. Hands pulled her back, tried to drag her down. Stumbling forward was all she could do to avoid crashing to the ground. ‘No, wait! You can’t— You—’
They did not listen.
What had she thought? This was thelastgroup of people in the world to ever listen to her.
‘No!’ she tried all the same as they dragged her forward and the antechamber opened up before them. ‘No!’ as the damaged copper gate came into view. ‘No!’ as she caught her first glimpse of the eerily lit hall beyond, fae crowding through the doorway, pulling the lopsided doors farther askew …
And then she was through them, too.
The bone hall was still its broken, damaged self, most of the floor gone. Dozens and dozens of fae had taken off into the air. Others had jumped into the cave below, where the fight was still raging – and there, at the farthest end of the hollow of the Labyrinth …
Thysandra stiffened.
Fae continued to push into the hall behind her, shoving her farther and farther towards the edge of the crater.
‘No!’ she gasped one last time, knowing it was hopeless, knowing it would be too late even if she managed to start fleeing now. ‘Stop! You need tostop! You—’
Because the earth had started rumbling.
The coloured gemstones were dimming one by one.
And thatwasNaxi at the far end of the cave – bloodied, dishevelled Naxi, who should have left, who should be miles away from the castle, emerging from the shadows with hands twisted into claws and murder shining in her bright blue eyes.
Thysandra’s heart had a single stupefied, horrified, mesmerised moment to stop dead in its tracks.
Then those sweet pink lips moved, and the world erupted in a blaze of excruciating white.
Chapter 32
Hurt.
Everything hurt.
Her thoughts were lances of pain, her breaths ragged rips in the fabric of her consciousness. Her ears rang with a high-pitched whine. Her skin …
Her skin felt like it was no longer there at all. As if the surface of her body was a single, all-consuming wound, raw and agonising.
A voice was talking.
She struggled to make out the words.Alive, they were saying.Rooms, they were saying.Healer … not just blue … lucky she’s breathing …
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