Page 71

Sav

B ack pressed against the wall, I watched the steady rise and fall of Creig’s chest, taking comfort in his confidence. He’d led several rescue missions and was painfully familiar with Dane’s movements and the movements of his troops.

Anger flared to life in me when the memory of our heated argument just before entering the portal flashed in my mind.

“You already planned this attack? I hissed, fury burning my throat.

Creig didn’t flinch. “I needed to be sure about the human. If you didn’t care for him, I would’ve used him like any other pawn.”

What a fool I’d been—my feelings weren’t the danger. They were the shield that kept Jack safe from those who would have used him.

Creig raised one hand, squeezing it into a fist, then stretched his fingers wide and tipped them forward. A line of orcs darted across the street, swallowed by the darkness and I balanced on the balls of my feet, preparing to follow.

“There’s no shame in letting us handle this one, Love.”

I glanced up, narrowing my eyes at Creig. “And let you have all the glory?”

He grinned, flashing sharp canines at me. “Didn’t think so. But I had to ask.” He broke into a run, and I dashed after him.

A thrill of nervous anticipation raced in my veins as, for one glorious moment, I envisioned meeting Dane in the alley outside his prison.

I’d let my daggers fly, pin him to the wall and take my time removing them from his bleeding corpse.

Shaking the thought, and the bloodlust, from my mind, I slammed into the wall as voices rang down the long alley.

I spared a glance at the building across from Dane’s headquarters, a chill ghosting over my skin. I didn’t slow. Just kept moving past the broken windows and the wrongness bleeding from that building.

We halted outside the barred door. Murz produced a wrench and twisted the bolts without a word.

I gaped as he handled the metal object. His fingers didn’t burn or sizzle and my brow furrowed.

The large plastic bar, painted to look metal, fell away from the door, bouncing to the ground.

It made almost no sound, but I glanced around, swallowing as I searched both ends of the darkened alley.

Creig frowned at Murz, but said nothing as he tugged the door open and slipped inside.

Hairs on the back of my neck rose and I prayed to Mab we weren’t walking into a trap.

Foxglove had lent his phone to Jack to make the call and none of the orcs had one so we had no way of knowing what was happening with Jack and the twins. My stomach twisted as I tried to reassure myself Dane would never harm his son.

The hallway stank of scorched hair and iron. My skin prickled. My feet froze halfway down the stairs. I’d been here before. I knew what came next.

Shouts at the bottom of the stairs kicked my heart into overdrive and I reached for two daggers, palming one in each hand. The feel of them steadied me and I breathed in and out, reaching the bottom step in time to see one of the three little pigs—Jim—fly into a wall and slide down it silently.

Oliver and Brian were locked in battle, but the fight was over quickly when Murz thrust a wicked-looking knife into Oliver’s neck and Creig reached Brian, yanking his head back and slicing a blade cleanly across his throat.

My gaze lingered, with sick fascination on the blood pumping rhythmically out of Brian’s neck as he fell from Creig’s hold to the floor. Creig gave another hand signal to two of his soldiers, wiping the back of his slick blade across his thigh and moving quickly to the back of the room.

“Clear,” someone called from the top of the other stairs, and I glanced back to see another orc guarding the stairs leading back out to the street.

His face was familiar and all at once I knew where I’d seen him before.

The night we’d been trapped in my old building, he and another had been the ones who stepped up beside me, ensuring I and as many others as possible escaped the flames.

Creig. He’d been watching over me all along. Me and the others.

My gaze shifted to the cages at the center of the room and I let out a defeated sigh. There were less than two dozen fae standing or staring up at us. Several of the cages were empty and not one was a sandy-haired satyr with delicate curling horns.

Murz leaped into action, moving to the first cage and tearing the door wide.

It spurred me forward and I lifted my dagger, prying open the first set of bars near me.

Shocks of pain sparked along my fingers where they met iron, but I ignored it, moving to the next cage and doing the same.

I held out a hand to a naiad whose navy scales were faded to indigo blue and she clasped my hand, pulling herself up.

“Have you seen Juniper? A golden-haired satyr?”

She shook her head, running past me and the orc by the door took her hand, motioning to several others gathered nearby who could stand and led them away.

Another of Creig’s soldiers positioned himself in his place and several more who could walk were freed and escorted out.

In less than a minute, we’d freed most of those who could walk without aid.

I scanned the cages, opening them as I went, but none held Juniper. My heart sank as I moved to the smaller cages, finding several gray, lifeless bodies crumpled in corners. I let out a whimper when I reached the cage with the pixie I’d tried to save.

“I’m so sorry,” I breathed. Her gaze was vacant, a broken wing wrapped protectively over her still form.

A tear slid down my cheek as I pried her door open and lifted her tiny form from the cage.

My skin popped and sizzled, but I ignored it, shoulders shaking as I carried her to the orc standing by the door.

“We can’t leave them. They would want to be in Faerie.

They wouldn’t want to spend eternity down here. In a cage.”

The orc nodded and held out his hands. Gently, I laid her in his palms, sniffling as her wing twisted at an odd angle. I straightened it, holding in sob. “Wait. Let me get the others.”

I raced back to the small cages, popping each one open, a warm shoulder bumped mine and I looked left to find Murz crouching beside me.

I ripped tiny doors from their hinges, reaching in to lift small bodies from the floor.

A group of tiny tinks had died huddled together and I hefted them out gently, careful not to untangle any of their entwined limbs. “We were too late,” I cried.

Helping me to my feet, Murz flattened his palms, and I laid all the tiny bodies I’d collected on them side by side. “We’ll get them home,” he promised.

I nodded, wiping the back of my hand against my cheek and watched him go, pain spearing my chest. I found the kelpie, shriveled in a corner of his cage and slid an arm under his shoulder, lifting him gingery.

He grunted, wet, gurgling breaths slipping from his lips, but we moved toward the door, and soon, someone was helping him, along with several other severely injured fae, out of the basement.

A blur of movement at the top of the stairs. I froze. Was it Dane’s men? And then—a tufted hand swiped for me.

“Juniper,” I gasped, but her eyes were wrong. Vacant. “Juniper. It’s me, Sav. Stop!”

But she wasn’t stopping; she was running straight for me, blades slicing air, and I gasped as metal swiped inches from my nose.

A massive axe sailed through the air, embedding itself in the wall behind Juniper, catching her shirt sleeve, pinning her in place.

I gasped in horror as the blade in her free hand swung again, and it seemed her target was…

me. I backed up, giving her space and Foxglove wedged himself between us, cursing soundly as the scalpel dug into his arm.

He grabbed her free wrist, pinning it down and Creig appeared beside him, yanking the axe from the wall.

Foxglove grabbed the other arm, forcing her arms down.

“Juniper?”

Creig yanked out the scalpel embedded in Foxglove’s arm and snatched the other from Juniper’s fist.

Foxglove wrapped his arms around her tightly and held fast even as she tried to wedge her horns into his chin.

“Get her out of here. Poppy will know what to do,” Creig said, and Foxglove nodded, lifting Juniper off her feet and carrying her out the way we’d come.

“What’s wrong with her?” I asked, watching her go.

“I don’t know, Love, but we don’t have time to worry about that now.”

I nodded, sparing a final glance backward as Juniper was carried from the room, my chest aching for her. What had they done to make her try to kill us all? I prayed to Mab we could reverse the damage once we got her to safety. She was alive at least. Anything else we could put right.

My focus shifted to the cages lining the room.

No time. There was no time to worry about Juniper when Dane and his men could arrive at any moment.

There were four of us now that Foxglove had gone, and we each worked as quickly as we could, prying open doors and dragging out limping, bloody creatures.

“Sav.”

I looked up at Creig, wiping my cheeks.

“The wood nymph is too weak to move. She’s asking for you.”

A sob burned in my throat. She was waxen and gray, lips shriveled to reveal bark-like teeth. I wrapped a hand around her brittle branch, careful not to disturb the final remaining leaf. She expelled a long breath, eyes cracking a fraction.

“You came back for us,” she croaked.

Hot tears slid down my cheek. “Too late, I think.”

Her dried lips moved, bark flaking off as it dusted her exposed roots. “Did you save them?”

I glanced at the empty cages around the room. “The ones we could.”

Her rough fingers wrapped around mine. “Did you unite our kind against.—” she coughed. “A tyrant?”

“We’re just a group of fae.” I said, swiping at my cheeks. “We haven’t changed anything.”

The nymph’s grip tightened, and she yanked me closer. “You will.”

Her chest rattled and I leaned back searching her face. I gasped as something brushed my arm and I looked down, stifling as sob as her final remaining leaf wafted lazily to the floor.

“Sav. We have to go.”

I searched the nymph’s face, sniffling as another tear streaked down my face. “We can’t leave her.”

Creig nodded, holding out his arms and gingerly, I tugged the lifeless creature out of the cage, careful not to let her touch metal. She wouldn’t feel it now, but I would. As I felt the loss of every other creature we’d been too late to save.

I backed up, stepping over the lifeless form of one of the three pigs who’d dragged me down here the night I learned of this place and I spat on the ground beside him.

I would have liked to be the one to run him through, all three of them, but bound as I was from harming humans, I would have to settle for being present to witness their deaths.

Creig scooped the nymph into his arms and I followed, casting a last glance around the darkened room, ensuring we weren’t leaving any others behind. I wouldn’t let them use the dead to strengthen their cause. Tonight, we left no one behind.

Back in the missing spring court forest, fae moved quickly, finding rooms for each of the injured folk and I scanned their faces, exhaling a long, exhausted sigh.

We’d managed to save all who still lived, apart from the nymph—heaviness settled in my chest at her loss—but so many of the creatures who had been imprisoned when I left only a few weeks before were already gone.

“Have Larek and Yolmar returned with the human yet?” I asked a passing fawn. She shook her head, dashing away, arms full of bandages. Several more fae raced by carrying pastes and salves and a group of orcs hefted a kettle filled with soup and enough bowls to feed a hundred fae.

Larek, Yolmar and Jack were all that consumed my mind and I would go mad with worry if I didn't find something to distract me until they were back.

Spying Murz slinking between trees, I moved on silent feet, stopping in a clearing as he picked up a shovel, joining soldiers digging deep trenches beside a row of already-filled graves.

His eyes widened when he saw me.

“You shouldn’t be here, Lady.”

I’m not a healer,” I said, wiping my cheeks. “But I can say goodbye to the ones we couldn’t save.”

“The number would have been far greater if you hadn’t fought for them.”

I took Murz’s hand. His grip was steady—like Creig’s. They’d both been there in my darkest moments, even if I hadn’t seen it.

“Sav!”

I looked up, chest expanding as Larak raced for me, Yolmar close on his heels. I exhaled my first real breath since returning, seeing their uninjured faces. Larak reached me and ice drenched my veins as I met his anguished gaze.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Yolmar slid to a stop beside him and they both stood for a moment, frozen with some news too terrible to speak aloud.

I looked between them. Jack. My knees buckled.

Larek caught me.

“He’s alive,” Yolmar whispered.

“But ISHFA has him.”

My heart stuttered in my chest. If they found out the truth about him… if he wasn’t human, they wouldn’t just imprison him. They’d dissect him. And I couldn’t protect him from that.