Chapter 34
CHAPTER 34
T he vibration beneath Lila’s feet deepened to a shudder, and then stopped. Everyone in the hall shuffled nervously, glancing around as if looking for the cue to run. The king’s retainers closed in around Elroth, one of them gesturing toward the portal.
Lila immediately understood what was happening—she’d seen the problem herself on various job sites. Farras’s magic was broken, and enough minutes had ticked by that the spell that built the way station was adjusting to the fact. If the building’s magic had been set properly—the spell anchored across a large group of casters for safety—the transition should have been seamless. This was sloppy work.
Unless … A thought occurred to Lila, but she pushed it away. Not even Farras was so arrogant. The idea came again, except this time there was a smell in the air that made her queasy. No, not a smell exactly, but a feeling like something scratching on the inside of her skull.
A lot of power went into building an ordinary way station, let alone one this extravagant. Such magic didn’t run down quietly, like a battery gone dead. Half the time it rebounded like a rubber band.
The vibration beneath Lila’s feet deepened to a shudder. Around the hall, the crowd was growing restless while Elroth seemed to be in deep conversation with one of his counselors. The warriors were fanning out, weapons drawn, intent on keeping order. No doubt they believed the tremor was the way station’s magic adjusting to the loss of its designer. It took experience to know the quality of this disruption signaled something far worse.
Gooseflesh coursed down her arms. Every instinct screamed that the place was about to get very dangerous.
She looked around for her mother’s servants, but the gargoyles were gone. They’d been present when she’d brought her father back to the bench, but had vanished the first time she actually wanted their help.
Fine . No time for irritation, much less a search party. Her family would have to manage on their own.
Lila grabbed Ademar’s arm and gestured to their parents. “Get them to the door. Fast.”
She turned to go, but he caught her sleeve, holding her in place. “Why?”
“I know building spells. Something doesn’t feel right. I’m going to warn the king.”
To his credit, Ademar believed her at once. “I’ll do my part. Good luck.”
She began a sprint across the hall, waving to catch the eye of the warrior in silver mail. But the magic was failing too fast. Halfway there, she stumbled as the polished wood planks of the floor began to lift. Lila fell to her hands and knees, skidding only a few inches before another bit of oak jammed her knees. The floor shook violently. The remaining plates of food slid from the tables and smashed as the furniture rocked.
“Outside!” King Elroth roared, far too late .
A giant crunching, grinding noise sounded from beneath the floor. Lila picked herself up just as tendrils split the boards at her feet. They wormed past the cracks and edges, pale green fingers that thickened and stiffened into twigs, then saplings unfurling a crown of leaves. The forest was reclaiming the way station.
She bounded forward, fully focused on getting out alive. No place was safe to stand on—the whole floor had burst open with untamed growth. The room heaved, rocking the pillars. The remains of her decorations slithered down their fluted surface, crumbling to dust.
She’d almost made it across the hall to the exit when the room exploded. A great tree, almost as wide as the room itself, pounded upward from below. The force flung Lila like chaff.
She landed on her back with enough force to spin her like the hands on a clock.
When she stopped moving, it took a moment for her lungs to work again. She dragged in air in a whooping rush and struggled to sit up. Her first sight was of Farras, his twisted form crouched like a spider about to pounce.
“This is all your fault,” he rasped.
He crawled forward, oblivious to the rolling destruction around them. Lila scuttled backward, frantically searching for the king’s warriors.
Farras gave a nasty grin. “Oh, I gave His Majesty’s brutes the slip. They were far more concerned about his precious head getting a bump once the shaking started. They believe I’m quite harmless now.”
“But you’re not,” Lila said, stalling while she groped for a plan of escape. “You broke every rule about magical constructs. You never anchored this way station. You held onto its magic by yourself, with no help, and now it’s a death trap.”
“A group anchor required that I share my secrets.” He laughed. “Give away my plans for this place. Why would I trust anyone? ”
For the barest instant, Lila felt sorry for him. “But now it’s falling apart.”
A chunk of the ceiling crashed just yards away, sending up a plume of dust and debris.
Farras ignored it. “I never create something I’m not prepared to sacrifice, and I never leave my enemies alive. That’s why I always win.”
Snatches of memory stuttered through her brain—the castle in Gilden Wood, the stables, Farras beating his horse. She’d been terrified of Bronkin, the old jester who had chased her through the castle halls. He’d been deranged, but nothing like this. Farras’s eyes held a sheen of fury she’d never seen anywhere before.
Old fear welled up in her, as if her girlhood nightmares had reared from their grave. But she wasn’t a child any longer. Lila summoned her power, remembering the battle spell she’d used on Rafe the night he’d arrived with Izetta.
“No, your reign of terror is over. You’re off the board.” With a cry of satisfaction, she made her shot. An orb of energy flew from her hand, straight into Farras’s chest.
He batted it away as if it were a gnat. Lila’s stomach dropped like a stone.
“You’ve drained your magic already today,” he said with a sneering laugh. “Poor Lila, I bet you tried to save everyone and have nothing left for yourself.”
He picked up a long shard of wood, like the one he’d used on his horse that day in the stables, and stood. Lila seized the opportunity to roll away from him and scramble to her feet. She staggered as the floor pitched again as if a giant creature tunneled under it, pushing up the boards with its spine. She grabbed what she thought was a table leg, but it was stuck in a crack. Fresh roots plunged downward, into the dirt, as the forest called it back home.
Dirt? Lila’s thoughts skittered. If there was earth beneath this floor, the lower levels of the way station had vanished. Time wasn’t running out—it was already gone.
“Poor Lila, not a weapon or wine bottle in sight,” Farras crooned. Then his tone turned angry. “Did you think you’d get away with setting this rebellion in motion? With turning your back on me ?”
She sent a plea to the forest, using the last scrap of her power. She wasn’t relying on magic—she’d used that up—but her affinity with the wood mattered. The table leg came free in her grip.
“Contrary to your own opinion,” she said, “you’re not the center of the universe.”
He swung the shard of wood, and she blocked his strike. The blow made her stumble backward, pain lancing up her arm. He struck again, and this time, his stick shattered. He tossed the remains aside, but not before Lila smashed her table leg against his skull. He dropped to his knees, grabbing her legs as he fell forward. Lila went over backward, landing hard on the pitching ground.
Farras crawled up her body, his hideous, bloodied face rising into view. His hands locked around her throat. Lila struggled for breath, chest heaving in vain. Pain sang through her whole body as she clawed at his grip. Her vision went black, random splotches of light dancing in the void.
The floor tilted again. Lila rolled with the momentum, flipping her attacker to his back. The motion loosened his hold just long enough to suck in a breath. She blinked Farras into focus and gazed into his rage-filled eyes.
Her hand found the table leg, and she jabbed one end into his breast bone. The angle was awkward, because he was still doing his best to strangle her, but aim wasn’t important. Neither was force.
You can have this back now , she said to the forest. Thank you for the loan .
The table leg sprouted roots again, shooting them down through Farras’s body and into the earth below. His scream seared through her as he gave a last painful spasm before finally letting go of her throat.
Lila’s head bowed with exhaustion. Regret died beneath a wave of relief. She’d survived. Thinking would come later.
The wood spearing him exploded into a tree, flinging her off and absorbing whatever was left of the king’s jester. She fell, rolling several times before crashing into a wall.
White-hot pain lanced through her from jaw to tailbone. It took her a moment to realize that she’d been tossed into the passage just outside the banquet hall. The huge glass windows cracked, then shattered, glass raining from the frames. Lila curled into a ball, arms over her head. Seconds passed as tiny slivers of glass stung her skin.
“Lila!” Rafe bent over her. His eyes had flared wolf-yellow, startling beneath the fall of his curling dark hair. “Get up.”
She tried. Cracks spidered up the wall, mirroring the agony scampering along her nerves. Lila hissed air through her teeth, digging her fingers into Rafe’s arms.
In one swift move, he picked her up as if she were no more than a toddler. The motion hurt, and she couldn’t stifle a cry.
“Hush.” Rafe glanced over his shoulder, turning pale as he caught sight of the massive tree trunk blocking their way back to the banquet hall. More tendrils were creeping through the floor.
Lila’s courage wobbled. “Leave me and go. You might still have a chance.”
“I swore to your brother I’d protect you.”
“I release you from that promise.”
“Busy now,” he growled. “Talk less.”
He ran toward the entry hall, reaching the space just as something crashed behind them. Destruction ruled here, too. The stairway that led to the floor above crumbled at the base, bits of elaborate trim dropping off as the banister sprouted leaves. Then the floor gave a heave, throwing them against the wall. Lila’s head bumped something solid, but the knock barely registered. She already hurt in too many places.
Rafe stumbled, catching his footing at the last second.
“Put me down!” She wiggled out of his grasp.
“Can you run?”
“I can try.”
“Okay.” He grabbed her hand, dragging her out of the way as a piece of the ceiling sheared away, spraying plaster and wood shards into the air. The overhead light crashed to the floor at the base of the stairs. Rafe leaped over it, swinging her past the explosion of crystal and sparks.
“This way!” Rafe shouted.
They lunged for the massive front door. Somewhere deep in the house, a support beam whined as it torqued and splintered. The roof buckled to the chorus of more breaking windows.
Something slammed into her shoulder, sending her staggering forward. Her palms hit the floor, but she pushed up and kept running. Rafe was heaving at the door, fighting against a frame that was losing its proper shape. In another minute, that too would fall to rubble—with them under it.
Rafe had the door open a few inches. He wrapped his fingers around the front edge of the heavy oak planks and planted his feet. Plaster coated his hair and clothes, sweat streaking his dusty face like war paint. He strained against the door, bare arms bunching and feet pushing against the floor. The door moved, but only inches.
Lila joined him, bracing her back against the frame and pushing while he pulled. It probably cost her more effort than it helped Rafe, but the door moved another foot before it wedged against the buckling floor. With a massive crunch, the high ceiling of the foyer collapsed in earnest. Chunks of wood fell like gigantic hail .
Wasting no time, she wriggled through the opening. Rafe barely squeezed through behind her. The air outside was cold and fresh, the stars like ice chips above.