Page 23

I POUNDED NUMBLY down the stairs after Oliver, silently cursing myself for allowing the Stone of Fal to slip away. We’d played right into Darion’s hands. We’d done his dirty work, eliminating Finvarra and clearing the way for Periclase to take his place. Darion would take the Stone to Periclase, and in the hands of a new owner, the Stone would reset. Periclase would get three chances to use its power. He’d take up right where Finvarra left off.

“We don’t know Darion took the Stone,” Jasper said, as if reading my thoughts. “For all we know, when the owner dies, the Stone disappears into the ether to emerge somewhere else.”

It was tempting to comfort myself with Jasper’s suggestion, but my gut told me that wasn’t what’d happened.

We reached the bottom of the staircase and emerged at the edge of the chaos of the dance floor. It was a massacre scene, with Daoine shifters battling each other and much worse, tearing into Fae of other races who were unable to defend themselves.

I peered around wildly, suddenly realizing just how poor our position was. There were no exits nearby. We were unarmed, except for Gae Buide and the small knives Oliver and I had.

“How the hell are we going to get through?” I asked.

Oliver pointed off to the left. “That’s the nearest way out.”

Eunice whimpered, and I gulped. In between us and the door was a trio of enormous vultures viciously pecking and ripping apart anyone who stumbled too near. I watched, horrified, as a crocodile tried to scuttle past the birds. One of them grabbed the croc with its clawed talon and flung it against the wall about a dozen feet away from us. The reptile hit so hard, it broke clear through.

“That’s our new exit,” Jasper said. He held up Gae Buide. “Follow me and stay close.”

We huddled at his back as we skirted along the wall toward the hole. Jasper jumped through first, and I was right on his heels brandishing my karambit. We burst into a hallway. I threw out my arms, struggling to keep my footing on the chunks of wall that littered the area in front of the hole.

“Look out!” Eunice screeched behind us.

The croc was still alive, and it was pissed. Moving faster than I would have imagined possible for such a bulky creature, it scuttled straight at us, its powerful tail whipping and its massive jaws snapping.

We all piled back through the hole into the festival chamber. With the croc bearing down from one direction and the fifteen-foot-tall vultures blocking the other way, we had nowhere to go.

“Petra, up here!”

I tipped my head back in confusion, looking for the source of the voice. It was Bryna, leaning over the balcony above us. I had to look away as the croc charged through the hole in the wall. Jasper was ready with Gae Buide. Narrowly avoiding getting an arm crunched off, Jasper slashed at the ancient-looking creature. It was only a glancing slice off the tough hide, but it was enough. The croc’s roar melted into a terrible human scream. The shifter sagged, dead halfway into the room.

“Let’s go,” Jasper said.

I didn’t have time to look for Bryna. Jasper grabbed my hand and jumped up onto the croc’s body. Oliver had a hold of poor Eunice, and they were right behind us. We scrambled over the dead creature and tumbled into the hallway.

I whipped my head back and forth, trying to figure out which way to go.

A black blur was darting straight toward us from the left.

“That’s Drifte,” Jasper said.

The raven shifter passed us in a rush of wings and zipped on down the corridor. We all turned to follow. Running full-speed, we raced through and around groups of confused, drunk people reeling through the hallways. The worst of the chaos and violence seemed to have been contained to the room where Finvarra was, but it was only a matter of time before word spread and Palace City became thick with soldiers and panic.

Drifte got us out of the labyrinth of the luxury accommodations. I had a momentary sensation of relief when the cool night air hit my skin, but it was short-lived. We were still about three layers of walls from getting free of Palace City, and the nearest gate had just slammed closed.

I turned to Jasper. “The Ravens. We need them to get us out of here.”

He already had his whistle in his hand, but he was hesitating. He pointed up. Daoine soldiers already lined the open walkways between towers, many of them armed with high-powered bows. Others were shifting into their bird forms—huge hawks and other birds of prey—and beginning to take flight.

“I can’t bring Great Ravens into the middle of this,” Jasper said. “We’ve got to at least get beyond the walls.”

My heart plummeted.

Oliver let loose with a string of curses. I turned to see what he was reacting to, and a flurry of movement twisted my stomach and made my pulse speed. Daoine soldiers were rounding the corner ahead. The entire area was filling with Daoine rushing in like a flash flood of bodies.

“What are we going to do?” Eunice wailed.

I whirled around, looking for escape, but the Daoine were bearing down on us from all sides, lining the walkways above and filling the air in their shifter forms.

We couldn’t fight. We couldn’t run. We were trapped.

“Petra!”

I turned. It was Bryna standing in the doorway through which we’d exited a few moments before. She was waving furiously at us.

“Come on! Hurry, you idiots!” she screeched at us.

We sprinted back inside. I skidded to a halt. The corridor was thick with bodies running every which way. We followed Bryna around a corner. She stopped and yanked open a door I might not have even noticed, as it blended almost completely into the wall. We went through and found ourselves in a smaller, plain corridor that ran parallel to the one we’d just left. It was a service hallway. It wasn’t empty but was considerably less crowded, and there were no soldiers in sight.

I had no idea where she was taking us, but I had to trust she knew a way out.

She made a sharp turn and pushed through a set of swinging doors. Steam and the fragrant smells of cooking meat and baking bread hit me in the face. We scurried through the kitchen, following Bryna. The cooking stations had been mostly abandoned, so there wasn’t anyone to protest our presence.

She skidded to a halt in an area where partially plated dinners sat abandoned on a counter. A wide-open compartment gaped in the wall.

“Get in,” Bryna snapped.

I blinked.

“It’s a dumbwaiter,” she said. “Get in.”

We piled inside, forced to crouch by the low height of the little elevator car. Bryna reached out and slapped the button on the wall next to the dumbwaiter. A door dropped down, plunging us into darkness, and we began to move up. The contraption groaned under our collective weight, the mechanics seeming to strain and struggle to lift us. The painfully slow, stuffy ride seemed to go on for an hour.

We finally stopped, and Bryna forced the door up. She hopped out into what looked like a small staging area. Linen-covered carts lined one wall. Pleasant music played through speakers. No one was around.

“What now?” I asked.

She pointed at one of the two doors. “We go out there, find a window to bust out, and he”—she jerked her thumb in Jasper’s direction—“makes sure Ravens will be there to catch us before we go splat down below.”

We piled out of the dumbwaiter and followed her out one of the doors to a small vestibule. A floor-to-ceiling window revealed a view of two of the three palaces of the City. Bryna reached into a pouch on her belt. On her palm she carefully balanced what looked like a steel marble. It jumped up, and a dozen inch-long spikes shot out of the surface. She winced as it landed back on her hand. Then she drew her arm back and hurled it at the window. The spiky little object exploded on impact in a burst of shattering glass and neon-yellow magic.

Jasper leaned through the opening and blasted his whistle. He stood there with his eyes on the sky.

“We’re going to have to jump,” he said. He glanced at me. I’d done this before.

I went to stand next to him and peered down. We were maybe eight stories up, putting us barely above the height of the walkways with the Daoine bowmen and women.

I shook my head. “It’s a mess out there.”

“I know,” Jasper said curtly. “We’ll need a bit of luck on our side.”

With my lips pressed into a grim line, I watched with Jasper as five Great Ravens appeared low on the horizon. The birds flew higher as they approached, and then they disappeared overhead.

“They’re circling around,” Jasper said. He beckoned to Eunice.

She looked terrified as she stepped to the edge of the broken-out window.

“Jump as far out as you can when I say the word. Feet down, knees apart. Grab on tight when you hit the bird,” he instructed.

She whimpered and nodded.

“Ready . . . now,” he said.

A large black bird swooped in from the right. She leapt and landed on the bird, who zoomed away and out of sight. I devoted a second or two to admiring her bravery.

“Oliver next.”

My father stepped up and jumped to his bird. Then Bryna. When I stepped up, Jasper squeezed my hand briefly.

“See you on the other side,” he said. “Now.”

I jumped, hit a bony body covered with slick dark feathers, which I grasped in handfuls to keep from sliding off as the bird banked hard.

My Raven pumped her wings, and we gained altitude. Something whizzed past my ear, and my blood ran cold as I realized it was a Daoine arrow that missed me by mere inches.

The bird—I recognized Mohawk—sped away from Palace City. We cruised over the tops of trees for about five minutes and then plunged into the void of the netherwhere.

We rejoined the world in a place where the night was silent and peaceful. Mohawk tipped a wing and began a descending spiral. Slanting my gaze downward, I caught sight of two other Ravens below us. And beyond, I recognized the layout of the fortress. We were home. I watched the sky above until I saw two more Great Ravens appear and then let out a relieved breath, closed my eyes, and lowered my forehead into the bird’s soft feathers.

It wasn’t until we were almost on the ground that I wondered how Jasper had decided to have the Ravens take us to the stone fortress. I didn’t have energy to devote to the thought. This was as good a place as any to come.

The birds were taking us to the fortress’s training yard, and Carraig soldiers were running in from all directions. My heart jumped. That was all we needed—make it out of the Daoine Sidhe realm alive, having killed Finvarra, only to be mistaken for the enemy by my own people. I heard Oliver’s voice calling out to the soldiers, telling them we were friendly. They halted and then approached more slowly, thank the gods.

Mohawk landed with a few light hops and then tipped a wing to let me down. I patted her neck and jogged to where my father and Eunice stood.

A loping figure in regular clothes—no armor or weapons—was coming through the soldiers. Maxen. The soldiers had begun to recognize me and bowed with mumbled greetings of “Your Highness” and “Your Majesty.”

“Stand down,” Oliver called. “There’s no threat here. All of you, return to your posts.”

The soldiers began to disperse, though they cast curious looks as Maxen joined us and the last Raven, carrying Jasper, landed.

Maxen was looking at us expectantly, hands on hips and panting lightly from his run to the yard.

“Well?” he finally said.

I waited a moment for Jasper and Bryna to join us.

“We got him,” I said. “Finvarra’s dead.”

Maxen let out a whoop, grabbed me around the waist, and twirled me around. I couldn’t help a brief grin, not just at his reaction, but also at how he’d let down his guard. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that with me.

“There’s bad news, though,” I said, catching my balance as he set me on my feet. “We didn’t recover the Stone of Fal. It may be in Periclase’s hands now.”

That sobered him up. He nodded. “Okay. You’d better tell me everything. Let’s go where we can have some privacy.”

“My apartment?” I suggested.

We trooped quietly through the corridors of the fortress—empty except for workers with late-night duties and patrolling soldiers. It had to be late, probably closer to dawn than midnight.

Once we were behind closed doors, we recounted the entire adventure to Maxen. Eunice’s head began to nod toward the end, and I called a page to escort her to her quarters.

I knew Maxen was concerned about the Stone, but he kept asking questions about what Darion had said. He seemed troubled.

“What is it?” I asked.

He gave a couple of slow shakes of his head. “I truly didn’t see this coming. I wouldn’t have guessed Periclase would try such a thing, no matter that he wouldn’t have succeeded in killing Finvarra on his own. The mere fact that he planned the assassination has caught me seriously off guard. I don’t like these kinds of surprises.”

We were all quiet for a moment, and then Bryna’s mouth stretched into a jaw-cracking yawn.

“You’re welcome to stay the night here,” I said. “We’ll find quarters for you.”

She nodded. “That’d be good.”

I picked up my house phone and asked for another page. When he arrived, I stood and went with Bryna to the door.

“You were invaluable in getting us in and out,” I said.

“Just doing my part for the betterment of the realm,” she replied lightly.

“But you’re Unseelie,” I said. “In principle, you shouldn’t have wanted to help us.”

“I’m Unseelie like Jasper is Unseelie. I don’t want to see Faerie destroyed.”

I quirked a half-smile at her, which she returned before slipping out.

Not long after, Oliver and Maxen departed as well, leaving me and Jasper alone.

I went to him and took his hands in mine. “Stay with me?”

His golden eyes sparked. “You don’t need to ask twice.” Then he glanced down at himself. His clothes were torn, dirty, and blood-spattered. I wasn’t in much better shape.

I turned toward the doorway leading deeper into my quarters and then twisted and beckoned to him. “I have an idea.”

He followed me into the master suite, where I went to the bathroom and began filling the giant tub. Fifteen minutes later, I sat in the deliciously hot water with my back against his chest and steam rising around us.

“I can’t stay long,” he whispered, his lips at my ear. He threaded the fingers of one hand through mine. His other hand began to rove my body, starting just beneath my earlobe and working downward.

I sighed. “I know.”

I shifted in the water, turning to face him, and pressed a kiss to his lips. I started to draw back, but he pulled me in, closing his arms around my waist as I straddled his muscled thighs.

“We’ll just have to make the best of the time we have,” he said, a hungry, growly edge to his voice that sent shivers spilling down my back.

We spent the next hour lost in each other, and then I fell asleep with my head on his chest, the beat of his heart like a lullaby.

I woke only a few hours later, but he was already gone.

I’d barely dressed when the house phone began ringing. I answered, expecting one of my attendants on the other end, perhaps announcing when breakfast would arrive. But it was Maxen.

“I need you to come to the foyer right away,” he said, his voice strained.

My chest tightened. “What’s wrong?”

“The hidden ones have begun to return.”

I blinked, silent for a beat as I tried to process the news. “Okay. I’ll be right there.”