Page 42 of Wicked Prince of Shadows (Wicked Princes #2)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Istumbled, my body slamming into Vetle's chest as the marble floor rippled like water. All around us, screams erupted. The music cut off mid-note, instruments clattering to the ground as the musicians scrambled for balance.

"Everyone down and away from the walls!" Vetle's command rang out as his arms locked around me, steadying me as the world tilted sideways.

The shaking intensified. Lanterns swung wildly on their chains, casting manic shadows across the courtyard. One broke free, crashing to the stone in an explosion of glass and oil that ignited in a burst of flame in the middle of the courtyard and then snuffed out as stone and grit crushed over it.

I clung to Vetle, my fingers digging into his robe as my legs threatened to give out. The roar of grinding stone filled my ears, so loud I couldn't hear my own breathing. Cracks spider-webbed across the marble floor, racing outward from the center of the courtyard in jagged lightning patterns.

“Osric!” I cried out. “Where’s Osric?”

Vetle's head whipped toward the far side of the courtyard. "There!" He pointed, and I followed his gaze to see Osric stumbling toward us, his arms wrapped around two smaller children. Behind him, more children followed, holding onto each other as they navigated the bucking floor.

"Come here!" I reached for them as they got close, pulling Osric and the little ones against me.

They crashed into my chest, their small bodies trembling.

Three more children made it to us, then two more, all of them crying or whimpering in terror.

I gathered them as best I could, my arms wrapping around as many as would fit while the others pressed close.

"Down! Get down!" Vetle commanded, his wings flaring wide to shield us as he guided us into a crouch.

The children and I curled together, away from the walls and towers that groaned and swayed above us.

I curled over them, trying to make myself a barrier between their bodies and whatever was coming.

Some of the other guests and guards pressed the other children, the aged, and the ill into the center as well, forming a protective ring as those who had wings extended and covered all they could.

Vetle's hand pressed against my shoulder. "Stay here in the center. Don't move unless I tell you to." His voice was steel, absolute authority cutting through the chaos.

"Where are you—"

But he was already gone, his wings beating hard as he launched himself into the air. The downdraft from his takeoff nearly knocked me over, and I tightened my grip on the children, anchoring us all against each other.

I looked up, watching him rise above the courtyard, above the palace towers, his silhouette stark against the setting blood moon. His wings spread wide as he hovered, scanning the destruction below and beyond the walls. Then he dropped back down and spread his wings out over us.

Maker, help us!

The whole world screamed as everyone pressed in on one another. Cracks in the marble floor widened, chunks of stone breaking free and splitting like glass. The lanterns that hadn't fallen yet swung in wild arcs, their light making everything seem surreal and nightmarish.

A section of the eastern wall collapsed with a thunderous roar that made my ears ring. Dust and debris billowed across the courtyard, and I ducked my head, shielding the children's faces as the cloud engulfed us.

Then everything went deathly still.

Vetle's jaw tightened, his amber eyes scanning the destruction. I coughed, tasting grit and ash on my tongue as the dust settled around us. The children whimpered against me, their small hands clutching at my gown.

"Is it over?" Osric's voice was barely a whisper against my shoulder.

“Are we safe?” another child asked.

I wanted to say yes, wanted to promise that the worst had passed. But I couldn’t lie. "I don't know, sweetheart." My ears rang from the cacophony of the collapse, making everything sound muffled and far away. Slowly everything came back to life.

Vetle's wings remained spread above us for a breath more before he drew them back, his body tense and ready. I watched the line of his shoulders, the way his head moved as he scanned the ruins. Something in his posture made my stomach clench with dread even more.

The palace—or at least this section—hadn’t been dragged into the chasm if the chasm had expanded. But that didn’t mean there hadn’t been a cost. Somehow in my gut, I knew the chasm had grown. How much had it taken? The outer walls? An outer courtyard?

Vetle reached for my face, tilting it up to examine me. His thumb brushed across my cheekbone, wiping away dust and grit. "Are you hurt?" His voice was rough with barely restrained emotion.

"I'm fine," I said, though my whole body trembled from adrenaline. "The children—"

"Osric?" He shifted his attention down. Osric remained pressed against my side.

"I'm all right." Osric's voice wavered but held steady. "We made it, but we shouldn’t have any more earthquakes. I don’t think the palace will hold.”

“If it can be avoided, it should be.” Something in Vetle's expression softened for just a heartbeat. His hand moved from mine as he checked on the remaining children around us and gripped the arms of others to ensure they were safe.

"Your Majesty!" A guard's voice called out from somewhere beyond the archway. "The southeastern wing is gone. And the southwestern wing is too unstable to enter.”

My mouth went dry, and the sickening feeling in my stomach twisted harder. Gone? Was there enough left to survive the day and into the night? What if the creatures attacked again? All of the magical restoration had taken place before this, and everything that still stood would be weakened.

"Casualties?" Vetle's voice was clipped, controlled, but I heard the strain beneath it.

"None so far. We had everyone as you ordered, but the walls—"

“Yes.” Vetle stepped back. He straightened his robe and then spoke louder above the murmuring.

“It’s past midnight, and this is our last day here.

But we must survive until the curse can be dealt with.

Guards, begin searching the walls. Baza, Keldron, if repairs must be made or weak points shored up, create teams. Everyone else, move everything possible to the farthest reaches away from the chasm.

Set up shelters out in the northern courtyards so that we use this space without as much fear of deathbeaks.

The children and elderly should remain out here in the courtyard until we determine whether the palace is safe. ”

I pushed myself up on trembling legs, my arms still wrapped protectively around the children clustered against me.

Osric had a protective grip on my waist, his expression grim.

The dust made it hard to see more than a few feet in any direction, but I could hear voices calling out—guards coordinating, people checking on loved ones, the shuffle of movement as everyone tried to orient themselves.

"Can we stand up now?" one of the smaller children asked, her voice muffled against my side.

"Yes, but stay close." I helped them to their feet one by one, checking each for injuries. A few scrapes, some bruises, but miraculously nothing serious. Osric scrubbed his hand over his face.

"That was worse than before," he whispered grimly.

I squeezed his shoulder. “I know.”

The dust was beginning to settle, revealing the full extent of the damage.

Great chunks of marble had been torn up, leaving gaping holes that showed the foundation stones beneath.

The outer wall beyond the courtyard had been visibly weakened in several areas just from this vantage point alone, confirming the risk of opening the courtyard to the wasteland beyond.

I took a breath. Dust clung to the back of my throat, dry and bitter, but it wasn’t just the grit that made it hard to swallow.

An eeriness had settled over us. The music, the laughter, the dancing—that felt like a memory belonging to another life.

Everyone was moving slowly as if rousing to life.

The courtyard at least appeared relatively safe.

The walls were strong enough to protect against roaming chitter hounds. For now.

The children still huddled close, wide-eyed and shaking. Their hands clutched my skirts and arms, the edges of one another’s sleeves, anything solid. I bent low, brushing a bit of stone from a boy’s shoulder and tucking a loose strand of hair behind a girl’s ear.

“We’re all right,” I said gently. “You did so well. All of you. If your parents or guardians are here, then you should let them know you’re all right, but don’t go inside. If you want something to do, then you can help me.”

They looked up at me, wary but listening.

“I want you to find some good stones—smooth ones, about this big.” I held my hands apart, showing the size of a small loaf of bread.

“We’ll use them to hold down whatever we use to make shelter.

If you find broken wood, set it aside too, all right?

Don’t step on anything without testing it first. Don’t crawl into any holes. ”

A few exchanged glances, then Osric gave a nod. “Come on,” he said, already moving. The others followed, some slower than others, but all with purpose.

I stood and dusted off my hands, squinting through the shifting haze. Figures moved through the courtyard. Some were already working to right the overturned tables and test out twisted marble slabs. Others moved chunks of rubble.

There was no panic. Just steady efforts to reclaim this place, even though the uncertainty of these next hours loomed over us all. The guards flew to the outer walls and began their search while some remained behind and moved out the largest chunks of marble and rock.

Fear gnawed within me even as I prayed and cleaned. So many questions and so little time left.