Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
T he whole door vibrates as someone throws his entire body weight against it once more while he bellows, “Commander Ryat! You have been accused of helping the human rebels. Their Imperial Majesties are demanding an explanation.”
I jump up from the chair as another thud comes from the door.
“Fuck,” Draven growls as he shoves a knife into my hand. “Someone heard the messenger’s warning and ran to tell Bane and Jessina.”
My gaze snaps down to the knife. It’s not just any knife. It’s my knife. The one I brought here from the Seelie Court.
A yelp escapes me as Draven scoops me up into his arms while I was busy looking at the knife. I whip my gaze up to his face as he runs back out onto the balcony and leaps off it.
My stomach lurches.
But his wings flare out, and then we’re flying.
“I need to get you and my clan out,” he says as he banks hard and sets course for the barracks outside the defensive walls on the west side.
“No!” I protest. “Not without Isera and Alistair.”
His gaze burns through my soul as he locks hard eyes on me. “It’s either leave without them or not leave at all.”
“I’m not leaving them!” I growl back at him.
I made them a promise, Goddess damn it. And I intend to keep it. I swore that I would get them out. Alistair is already on the verge of breaking, and Isera is falling deeper into that terrifying coldness with every passing day here. I can’t leave them to this fate. I refuse to.
Draven glares down at me. I glare right back.
“Azaroth’s fucking flame,” he curses. Then he swerves hard, heading towards the doors to the patio outside the ballroom instead.
A jolt shoots through me as Draven lands hard on the ground outside the doors. Through the slight gap in them, the sounds of chatting voices drift out into the night. The people in there have no idea what is happening. No idea that their commander has just betrayed them.
Setting me down on the ground, he leans forward slightly and glances in through the closest window. After a few seconds, he pulls back.
“Bane and Jessina aren’t here,” he says as he turns back to me. “Which means that they are out searching for me. I might be able to buy us some time.”
I nod. “Alright. I’ll get Isera and Alistair out.”
Steel laces his voice as he levels a commanding stare on me and declares, “You have two minutes. Then I will come in there and drag you out myself. Even if I have to kill everyone in the entire ballroom to do it. Isera and Alistair included.”
“Fine,” I snap back.
“Don’t make me regret this.”
Before I can retort, he launches into the air.
Not wasting a second, I run over to the door and slip inside.
The courtiers and the leaders of the other dragon clans are still standing in clusters around the room. But now that the Icehearts are no longer here, the atmosphere is much less tense. Just like before, most people are sipping from glasses filled with alcohol to pass the time.
My heart patters against my ribs as I sweep my gaze over the crowd. Isera and Alistair are still standing in the same spot as before. Close to the raised dais with the two ice thrones. Their heads are bowed and their eyes are on the floor in that submissive way that the Icehearts prefer, which means that they won’t be able to see me.
Worry flits around inside my ribcage like erratic birds.
How the hell am I supposed to sneak the only two fae in here out of an entire ballroom filled with dragon shifters without anyone noticing?
My gaze darts between all the glasses in everyone’s hands.
An idea begins to form.
That might work.
Keeping my head down, so that no one can see my glowing eyes, I summon my magic. I used up a lot of energy during the fight up at the treasury, and my body is also using it to heal the wound in my side. But because Draven cleaned it and stitched it up, it needs less effort to heal properly. And because he gave me food and allowed me to sit and rest while he treated the wound, I have managed to recover most of the energy I lost. It has to be enough.
Sending a desperate prayer to Mabona, I plead silently in my mind. Please let it be enough. Please let this work.
Then I throw my magic across the entire room.
Sparks of intoxication meet me from every chest. Some are tiny. Others are bigger. But everyone in here has at least sipped a little alcohol.
Drawing in a deep breath, I close my eyes briefly to compose myself. Then I shove my magic at everyone in the room.
I have never tried to manipulate this many people at the same time. It has to work. Please, Mabona, it has to work.
Magic flows through the connections that I’ve made to their feelings of drunkenness and makes them flare up. Not into the massive wildfires I can normally create. But enough that people start laughing too loudly and swaying a little on their feet. As if they are much more intoxicated than they really are.
A sort of merry chaos quickly spreads through the room.
With my heart fluttering nervously in my chest, and my energy draining at a steady pace, I hurry through the throng. When I’m almost at the dais, Isera finally glances up. She blinks in surprise at the seemingly very drunk dragon shifters around her.
“We’re getting out,” I hiss at the two of them. “Right now.”
Alistair snaps his head up as well.
And neither of them hesitates. Lurching into motion, they hurry after me as I start back towards the door. My pulse thrums in my ears. All around us, people are talking too loudly and stumbling and slapping each other on the arm and giggling. I fervently pray that none of them will notice us. Magic flows out of me. I need to release it soon, or it will take too long for my energy to build back up.
We pass the table by the outer wall where drinks and bites of food have been placed on gleaming silver trays. Two dragon shifters in elegant suits are leaning against the table. Their eyes slide in an out of focus, as if they can’t keep their vision straight because of how drunk I’m making them feel. I keep my head bowed, trying to stay as invisible as possible while I pass them.
“Hey,” the black-haired one suddenly says. His hand shoots out and reaches for Isera’s arm, but he’s too clumsy to actually grab her. While straightening after the failed grab, he rakes his gaze up and down her body. “Why did they give you clothes again? I prefer you half-naked.”
Isera picks up a knife from the cutlery that has been laid out on the table.
And rams it into his throat.
I gasp.
Blood spurts from his carotid artery when she yanks the knife back out. It splatters across Isera’s face, but she doesn’t so much as flinch. She just whirls towards the guy’s companion and rams the knife into his throat as well.
In the span of a few seconds, two dragon shifters collapse to the floor, their life bleeding out of them.
Isera’s blue and silver eyes are so cold and devoid of all sense of remorse that a chill races down my spine. She just spins towards the next group of dragon shifters, who haven’t even noticed the slaughter yet, while flexing her hand on the handle of the knife.
But before she can take so much as a step towards them, Alistair rushes forward and wraps his arms around her waist from behind. Lifting her off the floor, he spins back towards me while carrying Isera.
She struggles hard against his grip, and her voice is vicious as she snarls, “I want them dead. I want them all dead.”
“We will kill them,” he snaps at her while hauling her towards the open doors to the patio. “I swear we will fucking kill them all for what they did to us. But first, we need to get the hell out of here.”
Isera growls curses but stops fighting so hard. With a grunt, Alistair half shoves, half throws Isera out the door. While he hurries out onto the patio as well, I flick my gaze across the ballroom again.
Glittering faelights shimmer against the decorations and glitter in the jewelry that the female courtiers are wearing. Everyone is still laughing and stumbling as if they’re severely drunk. No one has noticed a thing.
An unexpected pulse of pride ripples through me. I might be way stronger with my magic than even I knew.
Darting out onto the patio, I cut off the flow to my magic and then close the doors behind me again.
A pair of commanding golden eyes stare down at me from only a step away.
Draven.
His face is splattered with a few drops of blood, but he looks otherwise unharmed.
“With ten seconds to spare,” he announces. Then he jerks his chin while starting towards the side gate on the west side. “Any problems?”
I open my mouth to reply.
A shriek cuts through the night as someone inside the ballroom screams in shock. Now that my magic is no longer clouding their senses, someone must have noticed the two dead bodies that Isera left behind.
“Uhm…” is all I manage to reply while giving Draven an apologetic grimace.
“Azaroth’s fucking flame,” he growls.
We sprint towards the barracks.