Page 67 of With Wing And Claw

Gods help her.

Lyron had gone very quiet in his chair, eyes darting back and forth between each member of the company as if looking for an escape. Inga was stiffly, furiously silent. Naxi sat with her chin in her palm, fingers tapping her chin, as if she was contemplating how much trouble it would cause her if she were to torture their witness for a few more minutes.

Thysandra didn’t even care about torture anymore.

All she wanted was to get out of this ever-deepening nightmare.

‘That’ll be all,’ she heard herself say. ‘Unless anyone else has any questions for our guest …’

‘Now that you mention it,’ Inga brusquely cut in, ‘I do. I’d like to know what exactly you were planning to do with me and the others once you’d broken into the archives and found us, if you’d care to elaborate?’

Naxi was the only one in the room who didn’t seem surprised. Even Nicanor gave a single blink that could almost be described as owlish before he pulled his face back into its usual sly, polished mask.

‘Kill a few of you, probably?’ Lyron sneered, his glare making a good effort to achieve the same effect now. ‘The fucking nerve,to—’

Naxi rolled her eyes.

He let out another blood-curdling scream.

‘Oh, don’t bother,’ Inga said testily, flicking her hand at Naxi without glancing at her. ‘I need him able to answer my questions. Could you clarifywhyexactly you want us dead? Because we would prefer not to live in leaking hovels? Is that a crime worth killing for?’

Lyron slumped in his chair again, gasping for breath as the demon magic subsided. ‘You mortals die anyway. Who cares about a few years more or less?’

Thysandra felt her mouth sag open.

Inga’s nostrils flared, but somehow she didn’t shout, didn’t argue. All she said, curt and cold, was a simple, ‘Thank you.’

And why was no one else looking even remotely shocked?

‘Get him out of here,’ Thysandra choked, her breath quickening. The red of her dress itched beneath her fingertips, begging for release. ‘Take him away and make sure I never,neverhave to see his face again, will you?’

Nicanor nodded, hauling the chained male off his chair with elegant ease.

It was not enough, notnearlyenough, to soothe the restless rage heating to explosion point under her skin.You mortals die anyway. And even if this particular bastard would soon breathe his last breath with a blade through his throat … how many others like him were walking around at this cursed court? On the other fae isles?

Inga was looking tired and unsurprised. Naxi was looking furious and unsurprised.

Way too many of them, then.

How fucking blind had she been, ifthiswas what she’d overlooked for the full four centuries of her life? And then she was still supposed to call the court hers – was supposed to serve and defend it even after it had tried to end her?

She couldn’t save this place.

Not because she couldn’t try, but because she no longerwantedto try.

The realisation felt distant like a dream, and yet it fell into place so very easily, no shock or surprise as it settled in hermind. It didn’t seem to belong to the version of herself she’d known for all her life. Old, dutiful Thysandra, always at the world’s beck and call, would have died before she let these thoughts see the light, would have tucked them far away in the deepest pits of her memory and never looked at them again.

New Thysandra had no one left to serve.

Decisions took shape as if they’d always existed.

‘I’ll be gone for a few more hours.’ The words slipped from her lips as if spoken by someone else; her feet moved her to the window as if obeying some other mind entirely. ‘Please let Silas and Nicanor know. And keep yourself safe until I’m back, will you?’

It was that easy to escape again.

Within minutes, the castle lay miles behind her. Just as soon, she was soaring over the open sea once more, the brightest azure as far as the eye could see – leaving nothing but time, wind, and water between her and her destination.

Emelin.