“Petra, get a hold of yourself, right now,” he said loudly enough for his voice to carry a little. He was getting in on the act.
Maxen continued to talk to me as I was escorted out through a side doorway into a service corridor. Lochlyn, Jasper, and Maxen all stared at me. A couple of Duergar guards hovered nearby. The door to the reception hall stood open, and I could see Periclase up on his throne. He hadn’t moved, but he was watching us. Jasper waved the guards back, and they retreated into the reception hall.
“What’s this about?” Jasper demanded.
“She tried to kill me,” I said. “She sent a wraith after me in the netherwhere. It tried to paralyze me there with cold iron; I barely made it out alive. And it came after me again.” I held out my arm. “I’ve still got the iron burns.”
They all looked at me with varying expressions of concern. Violating the netherwhere was a dishonorable and serious offense in Faerie.
“How do you know it was Bryna?” Jasper asked. His jaw clenched, and I got the brief but distinct impression that he wasn’t Bryna’s biggest fan.
“She’s connected to a mark I was after for a Guild assignment, a drug-dealing vamp she’s been escorting into Faerie. Morven identified her for me. He also named her the owner of the wraith.”
Lochlyn let out a little gasp at the mention of Morven’s name. Everyone in Faerie knew who he was, and Morven’s word was universally trusted.
“Pursuing a problem through bureaucratic channels isn’t my style, and there’s nothing that requires me to do it that way,” I said. “I killed the wraith. I planned to deal with Bryna after I caught the mark.”
“I believe you, I do,” Maxen said, playing along. “But unfortunately, that little display was the last straw as far as this trip is concerned. You can’t stay here.”
I huffed out a loud breath. Getting booted out of the Duergar realm was my plan. But it struck me that we hadn’t gotten to the part about how I was getting back in.
“I know,” I said. “For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you.”
I hoped I wasn’t laying it on too thick.
Emmaline had been standing in the doorway, and I beckoned her over.
“Lady Lochlyn and I will be departing this evening,” I said.
“Actually, Lochlyn is scheduled to perform later,” Maxen said quickly. He lifted his brows slightly, trying to signal something. He wanted Lochlyn to remain behind. Maybe he just didn’t want to do anything further to irritate Periclase.
“Fine. Just me, then,” I said and tried to look dejected.
Jasper was watching us, and I could almost see his brain working as he tried to read the subtext of what we said.
I caught a flash of something pass from Maxen’s hand to Lochlyn’s, which Jasper didn’t see, and then she came over to embrace me.
“I’ll be home soon,” she said. I felt her slip something under my dress at my shoulder blade.
I gave a forlorn little sigh. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”
Maxen and Lochlyn turned to go back into the reception hall.
“Ready?” Jasper asked.
I nodded, and Emmaline walked beside me as he led us back toward my room. I could feel the small object Lochlyn had slipped to me, and I itched to see what it was. It felt like a small scrap of paper. As we walked, it started to slide lower. I was so focused on trying to surreptitiously work it to a more secure place under my bra strap at first I didn’t notice the change in the air when we entered the empty courtyard at the center of the guest quarters.
The area was in shadow, with the sun having set. All of a sudden, it was like the shadows were birthing moving forms.
“What the—” Even as Jasper was voicing his confusion, he was drawing his sword from its sheath and a magi-zapper from his belt.
As soon as my eyes locked on one of the diminutive, black-clad figures, I knew what was happening.
“They’re servitors,” I said. “With poisoned throwing knives and daggers.”
I threw myself to the ground to avoid one of said knives, which went whizzing by my temple. I hollered at Emmaline to get down and armor up, and she went sprawling behind a ball-shaped hedge.
I pulled magic, summoning my rock armor. “Jasper, my sword!”
He glanced back at me just as a servitor launched himself at Jasper with a wild yell. These servitors moved with blurring speed, much faster than the ones I’d faced before. Jasper barely managed to bat him to the side with a swing of his arm, the one that was encased in stone.
“Damn it, come on!” I hollered as another servitor rushed at me, brandishing a dagger in each hand.
I kicked him in the ribs and felt one knife scrape across the armor on my thigh. He didn’t go down. Regaining his footing, he sprang up, reached out with the other blade, and nearly nicked my bare cheek.
“Petra!” Jasper twisted to toss my scabbard at me before whirling around to cut down two more servitors with his short sword and then kneel down to shoulder away another that dove at him. He had exceptionally quick hands, especially for a man his size.
I caught the scabbard, grabbed Mort’s grip, and connected with the weapon’s magic as I freed it from the sheath. Power zinged between me and my weapon as Mort seemed to relish the impending violence. Automatically moving near Jasper to fight back to back as the attackers came at us, I quickly got into a rhythm of blocking and mowing them down. They were fast, and we only just managed to hold them off. But it didn’t take long for them to change their approach.
The remaining servitors retreated and formed a ring around us.
“Oh, shit,” I growled.
Then, moving in unison, they began hurling their knives at us. We took cover at a huge tree trunk, but that only protected us from one angle.
I ducked and winced as one knife pinged off my shoulder and another hit my wrist.
Jasper reached around to shove something into my hand. It was a piece of his armor, a shoulder plate.
“Protect your head,” he said. “They’re going to run out of shit to throw at us at some point.”
“Well, aren’t you just cool as a cucumber on ice,” I remarked, trying to match his casual tone.
Not certain whether he was capable of summoning full stone armor, I shot a glance at him to make sure he hadn’t compromised his own safety by giving me some of his regular armor. He looked every bit as encased in rock as I was. Apparently, he hadn’t inherited King Periclase’s faulty gene.
“On the inside, I’m screaming like a pretty little princess,” he said.
I cracked a grin and nearly laughed as more knives assaulted us.
“Emmaline, you okay?” I hollered.
“Thumbs up,” she yelled back, sounding shaken.
“You’ve seen these guys before, I take it?” Jasper asked. He was using his breast plate as a shield for his head.