8. Just a Quake Away from FreedomDeath
8. JUST A QUAKE AWAY FROM FREEDOM OR DEATH
~ RUSH ~
With my sword outstretched, I was mid-spin when the floor of the throne room dipped then rocked.
Hundreds of aristos gasped or cried out while I searched desperately for the best course of action, looking first to the queen. Her eyes were on Ivar and Braque when the serpent-filled floor tipped again, and so I pretended I’d intended to carry out her command all along.
I stepped directly in front of her as guards scurried behind, uncertain how to protect their monarch from a threat coming up through the foundations, and held a hand out, my sword now pointed toward the crowd as if in her defense.
The columns, walls, and floor shook once more, hard enough that Yorgen’s and Idra’s four children, on their knees with guards at their backs, struggled to remain upright. The wall of windows trembled perilously, and plaster rained down from above while several enormous crystal chandeliers—a new set to replace the one that had shattered the day I’d stabbed Elowyn—swayed and tinkled cheerily overhead.
I felt the next shake in my bones an instant before it arrived. It was worse than the previous, a dip deep enough to cause my stomach to lurch.
A crack ripped through the thick glass floor beneath our feet, spreading out like the vines of hoarfrost. The snakes captured underneath writhed with renewed vigor as if they sensed they were another quake away from either freedom or death.
Screams accentuated the chaos as a gentler, but longer, rumble shook the floor.
A roar, so muted that it was barely there, echoed from somewhere far, far away.
For us to hear it at all, it had to have been a bellow to end them all.
What the dragonfire is going on? Could this have been a response to my silent plea? Surely not...
Searching for Hiroshi, Ryder, or West in the crowd, I noticed only how difficult it was to find anyone. Like rats, the half-dressed nobles were attempting to scatter, running into each other, bottlenecking at the double doors out of the room, others more afraid of the queen than of whatever this was, huddling against the wall farthest away from the windows and the chandeliers.
Another cry of outrage seemed to seep from the walls. More unsettling than the tremors, it was bestial, not fae—or of fae the queen had broken so completely there was nothing of the former person left.
Deep, bass shouts; the distant, sharp snapping akin to that of a whip; and then everything shook.
Even my teeth rattled as I squatted, hands above my head, and waited for the worst of it to pass. Dust sprinkled down to irritate my nose and throat. I swallowed a cough as the crack that ran through the glass beneath my feet widened and deepened, fresher air ushering through to the serpents. Two of the daughters condemned to be executed fell, and the severed heads of their parents slid a few inches toward them atop the coagulating pools of their blood.
When I next glanced at the queen, she was still seated on her throne, arguing with Ivar and Braque.
“It can’t be,” the queen snarled at Ivar.
More firmly than I’d ever seen him speak to her, he said, “But it must be.”
As if she sensed my attention, she turned toward me, her eyes a furious blue.
Before she could unleash some of that obvious frustration and order me to kill the four descendants quickly before we had to evacuate—and certainly before I’d had the chance to figure out what the hell was going on—I spoke.
“Your Majesty, you must leave immediately. Get outside, beyond the walls of the palace.” She narrowed her eyes and parted her lips, as if to berate me for daring to give her suggestions. I hastened to add, “Should they come down with you inside...” I shook my head theatrically. “We won’t be able to get you out in time. You must evacuate now.”
Braque pursed his lips in pinched disapproval, but said, “He’s right, my queen. We must go now.”
She scowled and glared out at her subjects.
The floor and walls shook so violently that I lowered to my knees, my hand landing and sliding in blood. Glass exploded, sending shards of it flying; the chandeliers rocked musically overhead. Men screamed, women cried, and the hissing of agitated snakes rose from below.
I stared down at a fissure in the floor as wide as my arm, the mass of serpents slithering over each other to reach it.
When I sought out the queen again, she was gone, along with Ivar and Braque, though many of her sentinels remained behind. They might later report my next actions, as might any of the courtiers constantly seeking her favor.
I had to hope the general chaos was enough to distract them.
As the floor shook beneath us, and a viper’s head emerged through the glass, its forked tongue tasting the fear in the air, I stepped behind the nearest guard, and slammed the butt of my sword into the base of his skull. I lunged out of the way so that when his body crumpled, it would appear he’d been knocked out by falling debris.
Skirting the severed heads, escaping snakes, and showering crystal fragments, and now with the attention of the four condemned upon me, I snuck up on the next two of their guardsmen, repeating the same action. When I reached the fourth and final one, I found him waiting, weapons holstered.
“I won’t say a word,” he said. “I promise. Get them out of here while you still can.”
The man looked young, fresh around the collar, not yet jaded by the futility of resisting the queen. His eyes were wide and earnest as he held my stare until the next quake arrived, another distant roar. Plaster clouded the air thickly enough to obscure a clear view.
“You can’t tell anyone,” I said sharply. “It’s incredibly important.”
The guard clasped my arm and met the doubt in my stare head-on. “I promise,” he repeated.
At court, out of necessity, fae of all sorts honed their skills of deception.
I still believed him. “Go. Busy yourself helping someone who’ll later report your assistance to the queen. You lost your charge in the fray.”
Without confirming his understanding, the young man bolted, tripped over a snake, crunched on some glass, and righted himself, before disappearing into the sea of agitated aristocrats.
I didn’t waste a second before ducking next to the brother. When the next tremor arrived, a column toppled, sending stone crashing to the floor in a startling clap that made my ears flinch and his sisters cry out. Dust rolled into a dense cloud, and I coughed as blood-curdling screams pierced the din: calls for help—someone was trapped beneath the rubble.
Willing him to understand the urgency, that moments counted, I looked the brother in the eye. “You need to get your sisters out of the palace without anybody noticing. Can you do that?”
His eyes were steady, determined. “Yes.”
“Good. The queen and her retinue will be trying to get out of here too, until whatever this is settles. Head out the back, through the kitchens and servant areas, and stay away from the gardens. With all this going on, you’ll have time to run by your house and grab any necessities. Take anything of value to use for trade, leave everything else.”
“Where should we go?”
“Nowhere anyone knows you. Once she figures out you’re gone, she’ll hunt you. Keep away from Magiarantos. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going.” I pushed the importance of my warning into my stare. “No one, not even if you have reason to trust them. The queen knows how to turn people. She can get to anyone.”
“Okay.” Already looking toward his sisters, the brother began to stand.
“Do you know where you’ll go?” I asked.
“No, but we’ll figure it out.”
I hesitated but only for an instant. The throne room was falling apart. “You know who I am?”
He nodded.
“Take your sisters to Amarantos, to the drake’s estate. Find Larissa and tell her I sent you. She’ll hide you till it’s safe.”
“Drake Rush Vega, I thank you. We’re in your debt.”
“There is no debt. I understand what it means to be responsible for sisters. Now go.”
He reached for his sisters as an entire snake, now free of its under-floor prison, weaved around the head of their father, encircling its prize and smearing blood over the cracked and now uneven floor.
Shaking off the gruesome imagery, I sheathed my sword and stalked toward the spot I’d last seen my friends.
As if a giant were lumbering across it, the floor shuddered some more. Brrrum, brrummm, brruuum, bruuuumm . Every one of the large windowpanes was already broken, but the chandeliers overhead were still partially intact, potential bombs waiting to launch their shrapnel.
With the nobles summoned to the throne room without the chance to dress in their colorful costumes, their hair was mostly dark, so as I wove through people I searched for Hiroshi’s distinct lavender head.
I hadn’t yet found my friends when a woman yanked my arm.
It was Jolanda, the dowager countess of Etherantos. Plaster dusted her copper hair, muting its usual bright shine. Her eyes welled with tears. “Help us, please. It’s Conroy.”
Pursing my lips, I scanned the sea of bobbing, frantic heads. Still no lavender.
“Okay,” I told her. “Where?”
“Over here.” She clutched her chest and hurried to where a cylindrical chunk of column, as tall as I was, lay across her son’s legs.
“We can’t get it off him.”
Lennox popped his head out from behind the fallen column. His copper hair was as dingy as his mother’s. His eyes, however, weren’t imploring. They were a cold and calculating brown, waiting to see if I’d hold every one of his offenses against his brother.
“You did your best to kill the woman I love,” I told him.
“I know.” There was no apology on his face or in his tone. “I shouldn’t have bothered though. You did a fine enough job all on your own.”
The world shook me as if I were no bigger than a tick on a sneakle. But even as I rode the floor like a board atop waves, I didn’t move my glare from him. I could kill Lennox now and, by the time the dust settled on this catastrophe, I might get away with it.
“Apologize, Lennox,” Jolanda hissed. “We need Rush to save your brother.”
Lennox didn’t move, didn’t blink nor clear his face of dust.
“Lennox!” his mother barked.
But I was already shaking my head, tsking . “Just hurry. You lift that side, I’ll lift this one.”
Conroy’s eyes were closed, his breathing uneven beneath the heavy stone.
I squatted and heaved, and Lennox and I rolled the column off Conroy.
Jolanda’s hand clutched my arm. “Thank you, Rush. I won’t forget it.”
I met her grateful stare but said nothing. She’d betray me to the queen in a heartbeat if she had reason.
Crunching on glass, crystal, plaster, and stone, I wound my way between huddles of bodies. Now that the queen was gone, a steady stream of nobles were exiting through the front double doors.
“Rush!” It was Ryder’s voice.
I spun, searching.
“Over here,” West called, and I found them crouched around several women, two of whom clutched their arms, one of which hung limply from its socket.
Quickly, I scanned their company, recognized only my cousin Tula as an ally, and said, “We have to get out of here. Tula, lead the women out. You three, follow me.”
Hiroshi, Ryder, and West nodded as if they already knew.
We wouldn’t be heading outside and to safety. Whatever was roaring and rocking the palace ... we needed to find it.
West slapped a hand to my shoulder. “We’ve been waiting on you. Let’s move.”
Before Tula had made much progress leading the females toward the double doors, my brothers and I were heading toward the throne—and the tunnels behind it.