Page 27

Chapter twenty-seven

Run or Fight

“ C ome this way,” my father shouted as he rushed to the back wall of his workshop. He tugged on a book, and a secret door clicked open. My lips parted. My father looked sheepish. “This, uh, this leads to the wine cellar.”

Of course it did. I stomped past him. At least the wine cellar had a front door in the kitchen—and it was, admittedly, a fine escape route. A huge bellow rumbled before distant screams screeched against the rough stone. A single line of booted footprints cleared a path through the dust on the floor—the steps my father had taken toward the thing he loved more than me.

As the pain surged, a shadow slipped gently against my palm. “ Dayspring ?”

I tried to stifle a teary sniff. “ It’s not fair.” A stone fell into my hair as the hallway rumbled. “I shouldn’t have to forgive him. I shouldn’t be asked to be the better person again. I shouldn’t have to make peace after everything.”

“Dayspring, I am not a pinnacle of forgiveness .” His shadows caught me before I stumbled, as the earth heaved beneath us from whatever was going on outside . “But forgiveness isn’t about them. It’s about releasing yourself from the grip he has on you. He may not pay the price of some just punishment, or suffer like you have, but you don’t have to be consumed by it or be beaten under it anymore. It’s in the past. The scar remains as a marker of when you were hurt but you healed.”

I whimpered, pain twisting my chest at his words. I knew he was right, but that didn’t make it easier to hear. I shifted and tried to deflect the weight of the conversation. “Could you forgive the prince?”

“I’m certain that I don’t know what you mean. Death doesn’t forgive.”

My laugh came out a bit sad as I wiped my eyes. At the end of the hall, my father pulled a luz wall sconce to open yet another doorway. Wine bottles were stacked on either side before we pushed through the other door into the kitchen. We all fell in and tried to rush to the outside doorway, threading through the chaos of servants and panicking staff. One woman stood on a stool and commanded them all.

Chef. My lips split into a grin as I took her in—in all her flour-coated, ladle-wielding glory. Her gaze caught mine, and she froze. Tossing one last command, she leapt with unexpected grace and rushed to me, wrapping me up in her embrace.

“Child, I have missed you.”

“I missed you too, Chef.”

She patted my arms as she pulled away to examine my face before taking in my companions. Her eyebrow rose in suspicion as she saw the Shade. We must have looked absurd: my ailing father, a scrappy Uncle Koll, the glowering Shade, and a black wolf rushing through her domain. But she pinched her lips and tilted her head to the side toward the exit. “And now, dear, we need to get you out of here. The castle is under attack.”

Uncle Koll asked, “From what exactly? ”

“A monster is all I can gather.” Chef shuddered and pushed me toward the door. “It came from the mountain—a beast of the deep. Lord Ramsha, if you do anything right, get her out of here. Go home, if you must. Just save our girl.” She spoke of home to my father, but instead of my old home by the sea, the word conjured a dark manor with a dreamy solarium.

Uncle Koll caught Chef’s hand and flourished a bow and a kiss. “Don’t forget to save yourself, madame.”

Chef’s stoic features flushed a glorious ruby, and she bopped him gently on the head. “That’s enough of that. Go on now.”

We rushed outside. The sky swirled in ribbons of black. Distant thunder rolled while the clouds brightened in waves from the prince’s fires. A roar rumbled from the other side of the castle. My father lifted the cover of the wagon and ushered us all inside. The Shade offered me his hand, but as I took it, a scream rent the air. My head flipped toward the noise.

“ Inside, Dayspring.” He pressed lightly on my back to urge me forward.

I climbed into the wagon, tucking myself against the wolf’s furry side. The tower wall burst out, and stones fell in the distance. The roof of the tower fell slowly, landing in a heap on the cobblestone street. After covering our view with a tarp, my father climbed into the driver’s seat and took off down the path that led away from the castle. The horse clopped quickly at first, but soon, we were surrounded by panicking people, and we slowed considerably.

“We’ll get you to safety, to start,” the Shade muttered. “I’m not sure the manor is far enough away, but the animals will protect you. Then, I could retu—” He winced as we heard another scream.

My breaths grew shallow. I turned back to the castle, peeking between the cover and the wall at the home of my youth. And we were just…fleeing. I turned to the Shade. His knowing expression told me he read my thoughts. The green of his eyes swirled with shadow, and his jaw clenched.

“We can’t just leave them,” I whispered. “There are good people here. The queen is here!”

A spark of mischief flit across his face. “What are you saying? Don’t you want to go where it’s safe?”

“I’m saying…” I reached forward and grasped his fingers. “I have a home at the manor, not the coast. And being safe isn’t everything. What did Uncle Koll say about risk earlier? Mankind was not made for boredom but for risks. The right risk at the right time is worth all the stars in the skies.” The Shade leaned toward me to reply, but he was interrupted as Uncle Koll’s cry cut him off.

More rocks fell from the tower and the castle wall striking the side of the wagon and panicking the horse. My father tried to steer us straight, but with a crack of splintered wood, the wagon tilted to one side, dumping its contents—and all of us—to the ground. My landing was softer than it should have been as I found myself wrapped in the embrace of shadows and two strong arms.

People sprinted around us in the dusky morning light—too early for the sun, too cloudy even as it rose—jostling one another as they fled from whatever was on the other side of the castle. We had grabbed the battle potions from the manor. Though I might not have magic of my own, I wasn’t helpless anymore.

“Let’s go save your mother,” I declared, pulling him to his feet.

The Shade’s expression turned fierce. “After you.”

Shadows pulled Uncle Koll upright. My father brushed himself off and caught the reins of the horse, steadying him before unlatching him from the wagon. Masses ran around us in the dim dawn light, shoving past each other to escape .

A long, loud bellow came from the far side of the castle. An enormous open-mouthed worm emerged behind the shattering tower. Six tiny eyes glittered on each side, and its gaping maw revealed rows upon rows of teeth that whirred in circles—first one way, then the other. A spinning cave of death. The worm was easily twice the size of the tower and nearly as long as the castle itself. Its massive body writhed and wriggled. Its skin looked as thick as leather but was devoid of any plated armor. Rolls of skin whorled around the creature, much like the twisting marks in the stone tunnels from earlier—this creature must have made them.

“Death. And pain. And death .” The voice was lower than thunder and buzzed against my skin like a lightning strike too close. It sounded familiar—the voice in the cave.

The Shade pressed me behind him. “Well, Dayspring. There’s your caterpillar.”

I squawked. “What?”

“You said you liked caterpillars.”

“This is not the kind of caterpillar I was referring to!” I grabbed his hand before shouting behind us. “Father, go home if you’d like. We are going to stop that worm.”

We rushed up the road through the crowds. A flame came from a balcony and blasted the beast’s neck. Its head turned and battered the tower, collapsing the top few levels.

“What is his weakness, do you think? Maybe I could just ask him to go home?” I shouted.

“Death. Pain. Death,” the worm moaned in our minds.

Uncle Koll panted beside us. “I don’t think it can be reasoned with.”

The Shade laughed. “Hello, dear sir, could you please return to your place of slumber. It’s breakfast time. ”

“Okay, okay. Fine. Overwhelming force then.” I veered through the castle gates. “Why am I leading? You know this place as well as I do, Your Highness .” I threw a glare his way. At least the Shade had the decency to look mildly sheepish. But he waved me ahead.

“To the ballroom.” I ducked through an unguarded door into a library, then we rushed down a back hallway until we reached the steps leading from the kitchens to the back of the ballroom. The larger castle halls were faster, but I didn’t want a forward-thinking guard to take hold of the Shade before he reached the front lines.

The far ballroom wall was in shambles—the pristine stone floor now covered in debris. Several soldiers cared for the wounded, and the northern wall had a new gaping hole to the courtyard below. A large boulder sat in the center of the room—perhaps it was what had made the hole in the wall. The prince stood on the dais with three galers on each side, hurling gusts of fire. The galers’ wind made his flames grow larger, carrying them toward the beast and wrapping them around it as the creature bellowed in agony. The worm’s tail lashed forward and knocked down an outer wall of the courtyard. Soldiers filled the garden. Most threw spears, though a few dared get close enough to stab the worm with their swords; like the arrow shot from the window, each spear fell harmlessly to the ground.

“Uncle Koll?” the Shade asked. “Are you well enough?”

“Maybe, yes. I took my potion this morning.”

He nodded. “I have my bag of poisons. Aelia, do you still have those sleep bombs?”

“Does the moon rise in the east?” I teased, holding up the small satchel of potions.

He kissed my cheek. “Only when you’re here, Dayspring.” He took the bag. “Stay safe.” Then he stepped around the doorframe and toward the prince. Uncle Koll and I ducked inside, waiting along the wall.

One of the soldiers raised a panicked voice. “The Shade! The Shade!”

The prince whipped around, one hand still casting a flame at the worm. Sweat beaded his brow. A soldier pushed off the wall and strode between them, his sword raised. “There you are. My men said you laid a trap but didn’t actually appear.”

“Leon.” The Shade nodded a greeting, ignoring the soldier before him. “Nice to see you again so soon. Need a hand?”

The prince’s face contorted in vitriol. “Not from you.”

“I have sleep bombs.”

The prince paused, clearly fighting with himself.

“We should battle together for the queen. For Moth—”

“Fine, fine.” The prince interrupted that critical word. With a wave, the prince called off the confused guards. “Let him through.”

The Shade strode forward—past the worried guard—and climbed the three steps to stand beside the prince. Shadows burst around him, and several guards startled and stumbled back—one even falling to the ground—but the Shade ignored them, directing individual tendrils to retrieve the sleep bombs from his own pouch.

“Make it mad, will you?”

“It’s already mad,” the prince responded but flicked a hand toward a guard all the same.

The washer sprayed the beast with water from the fountain. The prince turned and threw fire around the blast, boiling the steam, which hit the worm’s side. The monster bellowed again, rows of serrated teeth spinning as spit and pebbles flew out of its mouth .

“Excellent.” With a grunt, the Shade threw the shadows, sending each of the eight sleep bombs into the gaping maw. “Each one could knock out twenty men.”

The worm writhed, throwing its face to the sky in a high-pitched, marrow-rending scream. Those in the room stumbled, clutching their hands to their ears. After an endless moment, the worm turned to the balcony, all twelve eyes peering forward, and lunged.

The prince and the Shade dove off the platform in opposite directions. The worm rammed the dais between them and slid partway into the room. Its soulless gaze pinned me as it slowly withdrew. Grabbing a luz lamp from the wall, I stabbed it into the eye nearest me. The worm groaned again and thrashed, shoving me, Uncle Koll, and a table into the wall. One eye was now closed, but the others glared with heart-stopping malice. My blood filled with ice.

It wriggled back out of the room. The Shade wrapped its neck with a shadowy collar, and the prince attacked it with fire. Uncle Koll lifted discarded stones and pummeled the creature as archers tried to take out the rest of its eyes. The creature rose, then dove forward again, its teeth spinning within its mouth as it bored through the center of the balcony—biting out a chunk of the thick stone as if it were cheese. The structure creaked, and a crack formed between the balcony and the main room, splitting it in half.

“It isn’t very sleepy, Shade.” The prince shouted as he tucked himself against the wall.

The Shade was visibly relieved when we made eye contact; I was still safe against a column. I smiled reassuringly. Then, with a vibrating crack, the damage to the balcony became too great, and in one terrifying moment, the Shade, the prince, the galers, and the balcony collapsed to the ground. I screamed as I lurched forward, wishing I had my own magic to wrap around him and draw him to me .

Uncle Koll caught my shoulders. “Trust him, Aelia. He’s capable.” But his eyes were laced with worry, as we ran to the edge.

We looked down as the dust settled. The balcony looked like a broken hill before the beast. The eerie light of the early sun, filtered through black clouds, cast a yellowed sallowness over everything. The debris cleared around the center of the balcony, and the Shade, the prince, and—to my surprise—many of the soldiers rose to their feet, relatively unharmed. My breath escaped in a whoosh.

The stairs of the outside entrance now lacked a back wall but remained attached to the castle—though it creaked under the shifting weight. The worm circled and bore down on the men below. Fire, shadow, water, and wind swirled around the creature, driving it backward—up the mountain and toward the cavernous cave it had apparently burst from. The worm reared up again. This time, Uncle Koll lifted a hand, pulling up a wall of stone from the collapsed tower to shove into the creature a couple feet to the side. It was just enough to save a swordsman on the ground below from a death blow.

“Pain and death!” The monster screamed again; the agonal wail felt like my skull was splitting in two. Even the Shade clutched at his head. Leon stepped in front of the Shade, deflecting the tail of the worm as it whipped around with a punishing blow of flames. I saw Father appear in the courtyard. He picked up a bow from a downed archer and seemed to be firing with some accuracy.

He hadn’t left after all.

A yowl like a woman screaming, echoed from the gaping cavern. At the edge of the ballroom, where the wall had collapsed, hundreds of spyrings poured into the village. Bertha snarled again, pouncing, ripping, and sprinting between the spider-like monsters with glee.

“At least someone’s having a good time,” Jamison muttered beside me, flitting haphazardly in the air .

“Jamison!”

Relieved to see his grumpy self, I offered my hand. He perched upside down and panted. His little body trembled in exhaustion.

I scratched at his fuzzy cheek. “You worried me, you silly bat.”

“I flew the whole way here to warn the master. The manor attack was just a ruse.” He took in the scene before us. “The princeling should be out here fighting anyway. This is an absolute mess. I mean, look at it. The curtains will need to be cleaned twelve times to get all that smoke and dust out of there.”

“Yes. The curtains,” I said dryly. My focus returned to the Shade as he sprinted around the outside edge of the castle yard. I worried my lip, wishing again I had any magic of my own. The wolves and badger clambered over the crumbled wall, heading off the spyrings that had made it into the fray. The monsters were closing in now. I grabbed a broken curtain rod in my free hand. At least if they made it up here, I could whack them.

“So you’ve returned.” The low voice made me jump, and I sprang back toward Uncle Koll. King Regent Harold came to stand beside me, his two galer guards tucked beside him, arms at the ready to defend and protect their leader.

“Not for you.” My boldness surprised us both. His eyebrows flew upward, lost in his graying hair. I continued, “We brought new potions for the queen. And we stayed to save her and the people.”

The king regent frowned and slowly turned to take in the scene before me. “The Shade and the Savior working together.”

Jamison hissed at him from his perch on my finger. I tensed, ready to grab him should he try to attack.

“Certainly, you mean to imply that the Shade is saving your other son and your castle, and not something else,” I answered drily. The king regent flinched. I watched as the Shade lifted up a wolf to toss him onto the worm’s back, biting at the hide that seemed impenetrable. “He’s doing more than you are.” I curtsied with no little sarcasm. “Your Royal Highness.”

A sneer curled the king regent’s lip as he stepped closer. At first, I thought he was going to threaten me, but then I realized his frown was mere curiosity. “I liked you better when you were quiet.”

“My time with the Shade has been enlightening. I found my voice. I found a place I belonged.”

“You always belonged here, Aelia. You are your father’s daughter, a noblewoman.”

I scoffed at the idea. “Magicless, I had no place here.”

The worm dove, striking the upper side of the castle again, which jolted the whole structure. We stumbled. When we regained our footing, we both stepped back a few paces from the collapsing edge. Leon and the other guards were showing signs of fatigue, but nothing seemed to do much more than thwart the creature. “Your sons need you, Your Highness.”

“I-I can’t.”

“You won’t.”

He tilted his head back and forth before he held his palm between us. Thin, hazy black shadows filled it and spilled over like fading black steam to the ground. “I have”—he swallowed hard—“weak and sinister magic.”

I blinked, shock freezing my muscles in an icy bath. “You have shadow magic?” His cheeks flushed, and he looked guilty. “I thought you were a galer!” I stepped closer, gesturing wildly to the courtyard. “You abandoned your son who was a child who has the same magic?”

“Wind magic is an easier ruse when we all act together. Who can tell who is doing what with that invisible magic?” He pulled at his collar. “And certainly, the people could never know about the shadows…”

My jaw dropped farther. “You lead a kingdom who believes that the more powers someone has, the higher their rank and standing. You abandoned him.” He nodded slowly. “You let me believe I was an aberration and an embarrassment.”

“I am embarrassed, Aelia. The nation’s leaders should be the strongest of all.”

“One’s strength doesn’t come from magic powers, Your Highness.”

He shrugged and looked before him. “Certainly, magic is needed here today, to fight this creature.”

The mountains and caverns seemed to belch more black clouds, obscuring the early dawn. More spyrings—as well as those awful translucent rats—flooded out of the cavern and were met by the mammals and guards. But our side was becoming overwhelmed. The worm belched projectiles of rocks that slammed into the castle’s walls. The king regent and his galers as one raised their arms to block any from striking us inside. They moved together perfectly—such a coordinated deception.

A seer began to wail the prophecy from the street. Her words were broken in the cacophony of the battle. “The ruin of kingdoms from weak ones come…lest the deep reject the vile ones…the stars and sun turn black as pitch and light must fight to cure that…dark decay. Still, love must reign and find a way.”

King Regent Harold regarded my disdainful expression. “The people needed to see me as a strong leader—when Gemaline got so sick, and I needed to step into the role of the king. When I married her, especially since it had been a love match, I had a certain expectation to fulfill. The opinion of the masses has toppled better rulers than I. And I must maintain peace and ensure their compliance even if it’s through omission, Aelia.”

“I have respected you my whole life, sir. I have been grateful for the roof over my head, my friendship with Leon, and access to education. Because of that education, I know that this stance will lead to your downfall. The people will find out. They’ll also find out about the Shade and his parentage. But unless you do something right now to stop that beast, you won’t have a kingdom to rule.”

He held up his hands in a posture of surrender. “What could one person do against a beast like that?”

Uncle Koll patted my shoulder. “We are better together.”

The king regent looked over at his…brother-in-law. “Koll.”

“Harold.” Uncle Koll had never appeared more tense.

Before us, the scene was in chaos. The mammals and the Shade were pushed back to the top of the crumbled balcony mound. Leon had climbed up an archer tower to try attacking from a different angle. His flames were still scorching, even though he looked exhausted.

But something wasn’t right; I could see through the Shade’s shadows.

“Uncle Koll, is something wrong with the Shade?”