A distraction to allow Sura to reach the queen? I scowled and increased my pace.
When I reached the lodestone’s corridor, I sucked in a breath and ducked back around the corner. Ascendants guarded the entrance.
“More on their way, ser,” one panted as though he’d run here.
“Good. We’ll be able to hold this position as instructed.” He scoffed, eyeing the messenger. “You do look ridiculous. But, I suppose, needs must.” He raked a hand through his hair, and several of them glanced at each other, chuckling.
What could that mean? I waited but they said nothing more, and I didn’t have time to waste.
I couldn’t fight all of them, especially not in such a wide corridor. If I had Kat or someone else with a bow to cover me, then perhaps.
But she might be lying dead somewhere.
She isn’t. A flash of a corridor from my other side. We haven’t found her yet, but we will. Focus on our task.
I took a deep breath and pushed away my other side’s view and thoughts. We would find Kat safe and well. We would. She had her poison: she could look after herself.
Dagger in one hand, sword in the other, I stretched my neck side to side.
I didn’t need to fight them all—I just needed to get past them.
I sent my shadows creeping ahead—down by their feet where they wouldn’t notice. Then, at the door leading to the lodestone, I let them coalesce into a figure.
One cried out in wordless shock as my shadow form loomed over them. As the alarm spread through their group, they turned.
Steel flashed as they sliced at my shadows, which split apart and reformed. My shadow-self dissolved and slithered between one man’s legs before rising behind him.
Round eyes stared this way and that, unsure where the shadows would appear next.
“What is it?”
“Who is it?”
“An unseelie demon.”
While they tried to fight darkness itself, their backs to me, I sprinted down the corridor.
One huffed as my dagger drove into her back. The next one was similarly unaware until my sword bit into their side, spilling blood and guts. They managed an agonised groan as they slumped to the floor.
Their companions turned.
I ducked one blade, dodged the next. One man stood gaping between the shadow figure and me. I shouldered into him, blocking another strike with my dagger, filling the corridor with the ring of steel upon steel.
Two left between me and the door. Eight more behind.
I sent slender tendrils of shadow backwards. I couldn’t spare a glance over my shoulder, but I could make the floor treacherous with dark tripwires.
The main bulk of my shadows took form behind one of the attackers ahead.
The other pointed, eyes wide. “Behind you!”
Before he could turn, shadows circled his neck.
Pain seared my shoulder blade, but, grunting, I twisted away from the worst of the strike. At least, I hoped I did.
“Reinforcements are here!”
No time to assess damage. My sword opened up the remaining attacker’s guard as she raised her weapon to catch it, and I lunged, shoulder crying out as I stabbed her in the armpit.
She slumped, and I barrelled into the door as the reinforcements’ arrows struck it.
The world pitched, jolting my injured shoulder as I tumbled into the lodestone. Chest heaving, I lay on the floor and found myself facing a dozen bristling spears.
88
Bastian
“Marwood?” Evin’s eyes widened, and he pulled his spear away. “It’s all right. It’s the queen’s Shadow. Stand down.”
I nodded, catching my breath.
“No time for lying down on the job, Serpent.” He narrowed his eyes at me but held out a hand.
“Well, it looked like you had it all under control.” I smirked like I wasn’t bothered by his tone, and truth be told, I’d grown used to it. Evin had known my father well before the Wars of Succession, and he’d taken his death personally. Perhaps even more so because he’d helped train me.
I let him help me to my feet. As I checked my shoulder—just a shallow cut that hurt like hells—the groans and sobs hit me.
Another makeshift infirmary. But where Hydra Ascendant’s had contained orderly rows of beds, this one was chaos incarnate. Folk lay on the long dining table as folk tried to stem their bleeding or splint broken bones. Uninjured guests stood or sat together in tight knots, heads bowed in urgent conversation. Some just huddled together and cried, their finery soaking up tears and blood in equal measure.
“We’re trying to manage them, but…” Evin shook his head. “They’re a gnat’s ballsack away from panic.”
“That’s a delightful image.”
“These are delightful times. Dusk guards are holding our door from the other side. Looks like the attackers are trying to get in here.” He jerked his chin towards the far end of the room.
I’d known it was likely, but the confirmation made my stomach clench. “Any word on the fighting on our side? On the queen?”
“It’s not as bad there as it is in Dawn. The Queensguard has secured Her Majesty’s apartments.”
“Good.” And not just because Braea was safe in her Sleep, but because it meant both parts of me could search for Kat.
Still nothing, my other self confirmed when I shifted my focus towards him. His sword was bloody, his muscles warm. No pain, though.
“Go and get yourself bandaged up, Marwood. We don’t have any full healers, but he’ll be able to take care of your injury.” He jerked his chin to one side.
“It’s only a scratch.”
His mouth went flat. “On your shoulder. Perfect for making you flinch. We taught you better than that.”
My father had always said it was the small cuts that made you hesitate, and it was that hesitation that got you killed. With fighting in the palace and Evin’s echo of his lessons, a sudden heaviness pulled on my chest.
I inclined my head and followed his gesture, finding myself face to face with Caelus.
We stilled, holding each other’s gaze. His gleaming, sunlight hair was stuck to his sweaty forehead, and a smear of blood covered his cheek. Not his usual perfect self.
I made a soft sound of acknowledgement and shrugged off my jacket, wincing. “You all right?”
He nodded. “You’re not, though.” He beckoned me closer. “Show me. And while I take care of it, you can tell me where Katherine is.”
Gritting my teeth, I turned my shoulder towards him and unbuttoned my shirt. “Why would I tell you that?”
“Because I don’t see her here and I’m worried that means she’s—”
“She’s not.” She couldn’t be. We’d been through too much for that to happen.
He huffed. “I forgot how much you believe your will really can change the world.”
“Just get on with it.” The tingle of his magic flowed into me, golden and warm. “Didn’t know you were a healer.”
“Not much of one. Fixing bodies isn’t my primary gift.” Instead of a rueful smile, he gave a meaningful smirk.