Throwing out my hands, I unleashed my powers.
Flame billowed from my fingers, consuming the pale queen in one violent burst. She dropped her weapon with a scream and crumpled to the ground. I didn’t stop, even when her shrieks died and her body shriveled. I kept my flame on her, the smell of charring flesh and burnt hair making my eyes water. She wanted to put Whitechurch’s head on a mantel? I wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left but a greasy smear.
Maria wrenched her ax from the dead guard and attacked the Goodfellow and his soldiers. Fenswick, meanwhile, proceeded to cut the boys from the vines. They grabbed their staves from where Mab had put them by the side of the room, and joined the fight. Soon all the faerie knights formed a crude pile on the ground, and the queen was left in a smoldering heap. We retrieved the weapons as quickly as we could, strapping on swords and daggers with shaking hands.
“Wait,” Magnus growled as he marched toward Mab. “I’ve appendages to remove.”
“There’s no time!” Fenswick touched the earthen wall, and the wooden doorway reformed. “You need to return to London—now!”
Maria pulled off her helmet, tossing it to the side as she shook out her hair.
“Did you know about this?” Blackwood demanded.
“She’s innocent.” Fenswick moved before her protectively. “I thought they’d let her pass safely, but they took her prisoner.”
“The doctor only just got me out,” she said to me, “else I’d have gone back to warn you.”
“You can’t expect us to believe that,” Blackwood said.
“Well, seeing as we narrowly escaped having our limbs chopped off, I’m willing to go on some faith.” Magnus strapped his sword about his waist, and we followed Fenswick back onto the smoky darkness of the road. Ahead was an empty path choked with black brush. The other squadrons had vanished from sight.
Blackwood hoisted Fenswick into the air and shook him. “How could you?” he shouted. Fenswick’s legs kicked uselessly.
“I’d no choice. R’hlem wanted another Shadow and Fog, to seal the bargain between our races.”
My heart twisted. No matter the cost, I’d take all the rest of his beloved pets from him.
Focus. We’ve no time for this now.
I made Blackwood stop shaking the hobgoblin, then yanked on his ear while he squealed. Was I being rough? Undoubtedly. “Where are the squadrons?”
“Gone.” Fenswick swallowed. “They’re being butchered as we speak.”
I could hear the faint cries already fading on the wind. Leaving the others, I ran down the path while Fenswick shouted at me to come back. Branches tore at my clothes, slowed my speed. Eventually, I had to stop altogether.
“I can’t see them,” Blackwood whispered, coming up behind me. It was difficult to see anything at all. Above, the stars had gone out, the slate of constellations wiped clean.
“They’ve been trapped in the shadowed realm. No one who goes can ever return.” Fenswick twitched his ears. “You must get to London.”
“Why must we do anything you say?” I wanted to kill him.
“The roads are now open for R’hlem’s army,” he said. That shut all of us up. “They’ll be able to march past the barrier. With half the forces gone and no Fae intervention, it’ll be an open season.”
“My God,” Dee breathed.
“If R’hlem starts now, he’ll be there in only a few hours. You must evacuate the city before it’s too late.”
The queen was in residence at Buckingham Palace. R’hlem could end this war today.
“Let’s go,” Blackwood said, guiding us back down the path. Somewhere in the blackness, I swore I could still hear the voices of sorcerers crying for help. I imagined the men drowning in eternal blackness. Every step I took was a necessary torture.
“Hurry,” Fenswick whispered as we tripped and smashed into each other. I didn’t dare use my fire, as it would be a beacon for any monster that wanted to hunt us. My palms prickled, though, my impulse to ignite a burning whisper in my skin. No matter how many breathing exercises I performed, the rage did not die.
As we walked, I swore I heard something moving about on the path behind us. But tendrils of mist and the wet smell of moss were all that confronted me when I looked. Still, some invisible thing scraped closer.
“Fast. Fast now,” Magnus said, leading the charge. Dee hoisted up Maria when she tripped, and Blackwood summoned a minor gale to keep the thing back. We rocketed through the bramble, my skirt catching on a branch and ripping. If we survived this, I would get a pair of bloody trousers.
Finally, we entered a clearing. Two winding paths diverged ahead of us, and Fenswick cursed. “I always get lost around here. One leads to London.”
Darkness moved on the path behind. Something breathed.
A creature charged out of the wood. Maria swung her ax, sending the thing skidding backward. The beast had a hound’s rudimentary form but bristled all over with mushrooms and branches. Its clawed feet raked the earth, and the stench of it—boggy and rancid at once—made my eyes water. Snapping back its head in a howl, it revealed a mouth jagged with thorn-teeth.
Cursing, Magnus led us in a group spell that drained the horrid thing of its water. A puddle formed before us as the beast cracked open like drying mud. But then it began to twitch, reforming and reshaping as water filled it once again. We couldn’t hold it forever.
“Keep going!” Fenswick leaped out of Magnus’s arms, gripping the monster by its face. His small talons dug in as the hound shook its head, Fenswick clinging for his very life.
Blackwood pulled me down the right-hand tunnel. Please, let it lead us home. Let it be correct. Behind us, the sounds of pursuit and struggle died, and soon there was only our harried breathing in the darkness. I used Porridge as a torch and held it aloft.
Some murky light formed ahead, marking the tunnel’s end. We stopped, boots sinking into the mud.
“What if it’s the wrong way?” Magnus cursed as howling echoed behind us. Fenswick hadn’t been able to hold the beast off.
No time to second-guess. I charged ahead.
We catapulted into sunlight. The air was clear, the sky above a bit hazy and overcast. But we were outside, in the natural world once more. I could have fallen to my knees and kissed the ground.
We stood upon a grassy slope, a dense forest at our backs. That was the first troubling sign. Gray and white gulls wheeled overhead, while nearby waves crashed on a beach. Salt laced the wind.
This wasn’t London.
A signpost on the road ahead pointed in two opposite directions. The first advertised DOVER, 5 MILES. The second, pointing north, read LONDON, 70 MILES.
“We’re in Kent,” Blackwood said, his voice lifeless. Magnus threw down his stave and screamed, while Dee sat heavily. We couldn’t go back into Faerie; the risk of the roads was too great.
We wouldn’t reach London in time.
Blackwood adjusted the water glass, showing a new location as we all watched in shock. We’d used it to peer ahead down the road and found swarms of Familiars—ravens, skinless, shadows, lice, trolls—roaming the area. They flooded abandoned villages and gnawed like animals on bones picked clean. Kent had been one of the “red zones” in the war ever since R’hlem had taken Canterbury three years earlier. Like an infection, his influence had spread. “Going over ground won’t be easy.” Blackwood released the glass, and the water rained down.
If only I knew how to use the magician porter runes. I should have begged Mickelmas to teach me when I had the chance.
“Well, there might be a boat.” Magnus dusted his trousers. He’d swallowed his earlier rage and was all business again.
“This area’s deserted, but best of luck,” Blackwood muttered.