Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)

“Th-This way,” I said, glancing at the other man. He was pale. “There’s another hall. It leads to the servant quarters and— ”

“The wine cellar,” Grady finished. “That door is heavy. No one, not even ni’meres, can get through it.”

“Perfect. If I’m going to die tonight, I’d rather be drunk off my ass,” the man said, dragging a hand down the front of his torn shirt. “Name’s Milton, by the way.”

“Grady.” He nodded in my direction. “This is Lis and that’s— ”

“Allyson,” she said, nervously rubbing her hands over her bare arms.

A scream pierced the air, causing both Allyson and me to jump.

Milton swallowed. “Let’s get to this cellar so we can get drunk enough that we don’t think about what’s happening on the other side of that wall.”

“Sounds like a plan. You good?” Grady asked of Allyson, who nodded. Then he turned to me. “You?”

Foot stinging, I limped slightly as I started for the door at the other end of the chamber. I couldn’t look too long or too closely at Milton and . . . especially not Allyson. Not because I worried that what had happened in the receiving hall would overwhelm me again. I feared I’d discover how the night would end for them, and I already . . . I already knew how it would end for Allyson.

As I proceeded forward, an all-too-familiar sense of fragile calmness descended upon me, one that had sprung from dark, scary nights that had come before we’d fled Union City and after, when we’d slept on streets and in ditches, when we were chased off by lawmen or were running from adults whose thoughts were full of terrible things. We’d been in a lot of bad spots, many I didn’t think we’d make it out of.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t scared. I was terrified. My heart hadn’t stopped pounding. I felt sick with fear, but this was . . . it was just another bad spot to get past. To survive, and I would. We would.

I opened the door that fed into another hall, which was the length of the manor and wrapped around the whole back. It was empty. Grady motioned the other two forward. We hurried down the dimly lit hall, the muted sounds of screams coming from the other side of the wall following us, haunting us.

Remembering the dagger, I halted and hitched up the skirt of my gown. I unsheathed the dagger. I looked up.

Beside me, Milton raised his brows as he spotted the lunea blade. “I’m not going to even ask.”

“Probably best that you don’t.” I let the skirt fall back into place.

“Why are they doing this?” Allyson asked, nibbling on her fingernails.

“Don’t know,” Grady said, then repeated what he’d told me about the Hyhborn Court. “But a bunch of the ni’meres flew over the manor, heading straight for Primvera.”

“You can’t be serious,” Allyson gasped. “They’re attacking their own?”

“He is. Saw it myself,” Milton confirmed, and I had a feeling we’d see it soon enough when we reached the back hall. “Looked like the whole city was burning, but I think it was just the wall outside Primvera.”

“But why attack us?” Allyson stuck close to Grady. “We weren’t doing anything.”

No one answered, not even my intuition, but I didn’t think this was the Westlands or the Iron Knights. This was something else entirely.

“You lied to me,” Grady muttered under his breath.

“What?” I glanced at him.

“You said you weren’t hurt.” He raised his brows. “Your foot is bleeding.”

“You’re bleeding?” Concern filled Allyson’s voice.

“It’s not a big deal. Just a minor cut on my foot.”

“Minor cuts get infected all the time, Lis. Then you end up with your foot getting cut off.”

My brows shot up.

“That escalated quickly,” Milton commented under his breath from behind us.

Grady ignored him. “As soon as we get a chance, we’re washing it out.”

I sighed heavily. “I was planning to, but currently, I’m more worried about the ni’meres.”

“Agreed,” Milton commented.

We neared the corner where the hall turned to continue along the back of the manor. I peered around. The hall was dark. “The windows are intact.”

Grady strode forward, his hand around the hilt of his sword. His steps slowed. “Sweet mercy.”

I crept forward as Allyson cried out, smacking her hand over her mouth. She stumbled back, pressing against the wall. I told myself not to, but I joined Grady at the chest-high window and regretted it at once.

The moon was no longer blocked. Silvery light flooded the manor grounds. Bodies were strewn about the lawn, being . . . being picked at by a few lone ni’meres.

My stomach churned with nausea, but I couldn’t look away from the horrifying and grotesque display. I’d only ever seen a ni’mere once before and at a distance. I’d been a child then, but they were no less terrifying now than they were then, with their feathered bodies that were vaguely mortal-like, and their faces a palish-gray shade. Their yellow eyes were nearly iridescent, a shade of gold that matched the streaks cutting through their onyx-hued wings and their long, straggly hair. Their teeth . . .

They were pointed, as razor-sharp as any beak or talon would be, and yet their features were delicate. Pretty even, if not for the ghastly shade of skin and the blood smearing their lips and chins.

I dragged my stare from them. Beyond the ni’meres was a wholly different sight. Archwood Manor sat atop a hill, and on sunny days, the sun glinted off the tops of the walls surrounding Primvera. Tonight, the entire horizon was lit in a golden glow. Primvera was burning.

“Shit,” Grady cursed, jerking back. “The Rae. Get down.”

I crouched beside Grady, stomach knotting. “If there’s Rae . . .”

“Then there are princes near,” he finished, his eyes briefly meeting mine.

“ ‘Prince Rainer will be joining us for the Feasts,’ ” I whispered. “That’s what Hymel said.”

Grady’s jaw clenched. “Your prince decided to leave at one hell of a time, didn’t he?”

“He’s not my prince,” I retorted.

“We should try to keep going,” Milton said from where he was crouched farther down the hall. “How far do we have to go?”

Grady rose halfway, keeping himself below the window. “At the end of the hall. Just keep low to the floor.”

“End of the hall” felt like it was in a wholly different realm. “It’s the second-to-the-last door . . .” I trailed off as a tingle of awareness erupted between my shoulder blades and traveled up the nape of my neck. Tiny goose bumps spread across my bare arms, and there was a strange warmth in my . . . in my chest even though the temperature had dropped, just as it had in the gardens. The hair along the nape of my neck rose. I lifted my gaze to the window above me as I rubbed my chest.

“Lis?” Grady called out quietly. “What is it?”

“I . . .” Intuition was guiding me as I reached up, gripping the bottom of the windowsill.

“Shouldn’t we be hurrying?” Milton hissed.

We should be.

But there was something I needed to see. I rose just high enough to peer over the ledge of the window.

Rae rode past on horses shrouded in black cloth; the wispy mist seeping from openings in their cloaks trailed down the sides of their horses, spilling upon the ground like fog. There had to be well over two dozen of them. Warning bells started to ring throughout me when the Hyhborn rode forward on large reddish-brown steeds draped in indigo banners that bore a crimson insignia of what resembled several interlocking knots. I’d seen the sigil before. It was the Royal Crest and represented all the territories joined to form one.

If this was the Westlands or the Iron Knights, would they ride into battle bearing the sigil of the king they sought to overthrow? I didn’t think so. But if it was the King, why would he have Primvera destroyed? Unless he believed Primvera would be a loss too?

A flash of silvery white in the moonlight drew my gaze. Hair. Long blond hair so pale it was nearly white. Paler than the hair of the lord I’d seen in the Great Chamber.

I recognized him.

Even though I’d been too scared as a child to look him the face, I knew it was him.

“Grady,” I whispered. “Look.”

He turned from me, rising slightly.