37. Everly
Everly
Chapter thirty-seven
The sound of swords clashing and grunts reverberates through the air outside the tunnel. Slowly and quietly, I creep closer to the opening of the tunnel. How would anyone have known where the tunnel came out? Only the royal family and their personal guards had known of this tunnel. My hand landed on the wall of the tunnel and drew power and strength from the earth as I made my way toward the sounds.
Reaching the end of the tunnel, I spot my mother and Malarch standing back to back, fighting with three fae. They are all high fae, but I can’t make out their clothes in the dark. I search the forest for my father, but I can’t see him. One man makes it past my mother’s defenses, his sword slicing her arm. A surge of anger and fear travels through me when she cries out. My body tenses, filling with primal energy. As I reach out my tiny hand, the vines obeyed my command, coiling around the fae’s feet and dragging them away from my mother and Malarch. I watch as their swords try to hack away at the vines, but more just replace them. My mother’s wild mossy eyes frantically scan the area, searching for me.
She runs over as soon as she spots me. “Everly, are you okay?” she asks hurriedly, checking me over.
“I’m okay, mother, but where is father?”
She meets my eyes and swallows roughly. “Honey . . . ”
A rustling among the overgrown bushes makes me jump, though I can’t discern the source.
“Incoming!” Malarch yells.
Dread and fear coil deep in my stomach as I tense for what’s coming.
Bursting into the clearing is Valric. He has one arm around my father, helping him along. Blood covers the front of my father’s white tunic, and his sword is hanging limply in his hand. Valric sees us and visibly relaxes.
The reprieve is short-lived as we all hear the whizzing sound of arrows being let loose. My mother covers me as a dozen arrows strike the surrounding ground. My mother’s gasp echoes in my ear and I feel the warmth of her hands as she grabs mine and starts running, dragging me along behind her. I go to turn and look over my shoulder, but her sharp tug on my hand stops me.
“Don’t look, Everly,” she pleads.