Chapter Thirty-Six
Thirty-Six
I’m going to die—that’s my first thought. And my second thought is Fight.
I fall backward, not caring how I might land as long as I dodge his attack.
But Boltov has fae speed and power. When his first swipe misses me, he follows through on his momentum, spinning and dropping down to the ground over me.
I roll, amazed his claws don’t find their mark this time. Then I look up and see why.
Davien looms over us, still glowing and holding Boltov by his wrist. Chaos abounds in the hall. Some people are running for the portcullis; some step out of the way and pour themselves fresh glasses of wine to watch the entertainment they were promised.
“For even trying to touch her, I condemn you to death,” Davien snarls. Boltov struggles to break free of his grasp but can’t.
Butchers are charging from every corner of the hall. “Davien, Butchers!” I shout.
He glances over his shoulder to assess the threat.
With his free hand, Davien grabs the glass crown on Boltov’s brow.
Boltov screams. There’s a horrible ripping as the crown is freed.
I watch as his flesh is sheared from bone in chunks that cling to the crown, as though it had been cemented to Boltov’s head.
Davien looks at it in surprise and disgust before throwing Boltov back into the dais with unnatural force.
Boltov’s head cracks against the stone, leaving a pool of blood, and his eyes are dazed.
His lids slowly droop closed. Without the crown, he looks like the frail little man I first saw him as.
“I’ll hold them off.” Davien looks at Raph and me. “You two, find a way to free the others.”
“With pleasure.” I push myself up off the ground. Davien doesn’t have time to place the crown on his brow before the Butchers are on him. The lead Butcher knocks it from his grasp.
“Davien—”
“Go!” He snarls and lunges for the man who rounded up the fae from Dreamsong.
I curse, fighting the urge to stay and help him. “Follow me, Raph.”
Raph is at my side as I begin to run to the doors that Davien was escorted in from. “Where are we going? What about the people above?” I know without seeing that he’s looking up to his father.
“I’m not sure about them yet.” I push a startled courtier aside and right in the way of a lunging Butcher. “They were keeping Davien behind these doors, so I can only assume that’s where they have the stronger or more dangerous people. We need them.”
“Do we want more dangerous people?” Raph spins out of a Butcher’s grasp.
He reaches into his pockets and holds up what looks like shimmering sand.
He blows it out of his palm and it ignites in the air, exploding into millions of tiny sparks—mostly harmless but effective in concealing us as we escape through the doors.
“We want dangerous people if they’re our dangerous people,” I whisper. Even though the main hall has erupted in chaos, these passages are quiet and I would be a fool to think that Boltov would leave his prisoners unguarded.
“Oh.” Raph gets it. “Like Vena and Shaye?”
“We can only hope.” The hall is lined with doors that look far too nice for prison cells. We need to go lower, like Shaye said.
“Wait.” Raph takes my hand. “I doubt this will work, but it’s better than nothing.
” He closes his eyes and a look of extreme focus comes over him.
I watch as an image overlays him, slowly condensing into place like water solidifying into ice until it appears solid.
Where Raph once stood is one of the Butchers who stopped us by the castle’s portcullis.
“Did you just make us both look like Butchers?”
He nods. “But, I doubt it’ll work. Most fae can see past others’ glamours.”
“But it’s better than nothing. You’re brilliant.”
“Just hold my hand. I have an easier time glamouring you if I can touch you.”
“Fine with me.”
We start down the hall. At the end it opens into a room.
Fortunately, it’s empty, and there’s a staircase that heads both up and down.
We take the downward path into another room.
In the fourth hall we see a group of Butchers racing in the distance.
We wait, clinging to the wall and holding our breath.
One glances our way but he doesn’t seem to register us as out of place. Raph’s glamour works.
We go down another staircase. The finery of the castle is disappearing, replaced by what I would expect of the Boltovs.
There are rooms designed solely for unsavory delights, the sort that make me cringe and pass by as quickly as possible.
I hold Raph’s hand a little tighter. It’s going to take him some time to process all this once we’re done.
But if we succeed, he’ll have that time with both of his parents still alive.
As we’re passing a door, I hear faint mutterings inside. I halt and press my ear against it, confirming my suspicions.
“What is it?” Raph asks.
“I think they’re in here.” My hand lands on the doorknob. “Are you ready?”
“After what happened in the hall, I’m ready for anything.”
“Yes, you are.” I try and turn the knob, but it won’t move. I bite back a loud groan of frustration.
“It’s all right, I can take care of this one.
” Raph releases my hand and the glamour disappears.
His nimble fingers pick at the doorknob and he mutters to himself.
I hear the soft click of the latch coming undone.
He smiles at me sheepishly. “Don’t tell my parents about that particular ritual, okay? ”
“Your brilliant secret is safe with me.” No wonder he can go anywhere and get into anything.
I grab the doorknob again and debate how I want to proceed.
Do I open the door and go in ready for a fight?
Or do I try and sneak in? Unsure, I crack the door open slowly.
A sliver of light cuts through and I can hear the words more clearly.
“You hear the echoes of screams, don’t you? Those are cheers of delight as your fake king gets torn apart by the courtiers he would try and rule,” Allor sneers.
I open the door a little farther, poke my nose in. There’s a bloodied table in the center of the room and all manner of wicked-looking instruments on the walls. In the back are several cages full of people whom I recognize from Dreamsong—among them Shaye, Giles, and Vena.
Allor paces in front of the cages as though the bars are designed to keep her out rather than keep her prisoners in. Because if she had access to them, well, her threats make it clear what she would do.
I open the door a little bit more—the hinges are silent—and I ease myself in, staying against the back wall. Vena’s eyes dart to me for only a second. Giles is slumped against the wall, not moving. I’m sure Shaye notices me as well, but neither her words nor her demeanor betray anything.
“You would hope those are cheers of delight,” Shaye says loudly to Allor as if trying to keep the attention on herself.
“Because if they’re not, it’s going to be disastrous for you, isn’t it?
What do you think our new king will do to the Butchers who served Boltov so faithfully? He seems like he’s a generous man but—”
“I don’t want generosity from the likes of him.” Allor scoffs.
“No? And here I thought you wanted the generosity of kings. You don’t seem to have any problem kissing Boltov’s boots.” Shaye leans into the bars. “Maybe that’s because you realize that without him, you’re absolutely nothing.”
“How dare you!” Allor rages, lunging for the cage. As she rattles the door, I slowly take a bulky steel mallet off the wall. It’s so heavy my muscles tremble just holding it up. “You are the one that is nothing. You are the one in the cage, not me.”
“I escaped the cage he put me in long ago.” Shaye smiles, keeping Allor’s focus on her and her alone. “But I do feel sorry for you that you’re not strong enough to escape yours. Weak body, weak mind. It’s so very sad.”
“I’ll show you who’s weak.” Allor fishes in her pockets and produces a key. As she does, she sees me in her periphery, now only a step away. “What the—”
I don’t hesitate. I swing. The hammer meets the side of her head with so much force, it flies from my hands and slams on the floor with a clang so loud I’m certain it’s alerted half the castle.
Allor falls to the ground, motionless. I stand over her, panting softly.
I made just one strike, but my pulse is racing even faster than it was when Boltov attacked me.
Every inch of my body is aflame, panicked, ready to fight.
“Nice hit.” Shaye whistles.
“I—do you think she’s dead?” I ask uncertainly. I didn’t expect to make good on my threat to Allor in the woods that day. I guess she was the next fae I killed.
“I hope so. I think it would be very poetic if one of their lead Butchers was killed by a human and a mallet.”
As Shaye speaks, Raph picks up the key that Allor dropped and begins to unlock all the cages. Shaye is freed while I’m still staring down at Allor. She rests a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t think she’s dead. Which is good, because I’d like the honor of killing her, if it’s all the same to you.”
“By all means,” I murmur.
“What’s happening?” Vena asks, emerging from her cage as if she had been sitting in there by choice and not force. “I take it that the fact that you’re here is a good sign?”
“Davien has the magic of the old kings. The abdication ritual was finished. He’s up in the main hall fighting off the Butchers, but he needs help,” I say quickly.
“Reinforcements are coming.” Vena looks at Shaye, who’s dragging Allor into the cage she was just trapped in. “You know where the others are being held?”
“I don’t know anything about the castle; I told you that already.” Shaye rolls her eyes. “But I can make an educated guess.”
“Do that,” Vena commands as Shaye locks the door to the cage on Allor. “The rest of you who are able to fight, come with me.”
“I can lead you back to the main hall!” Raph says excitedly.