Chapter 38
38
P rincess Quince. Or what was left of her.
The thing that had once been the Thorncrest princess fixed its gaze on Skylar. Lips peeled back in a grotesque smile, revealing rows of jagged, thorn-like teeth. Skylar’s stomach churned.
Thorns erupted from its skin. Green fluid oozed from the protrusions, sizzling as it hit the floor. The acrid stench of burning marble filled the air.
“Spinewood,” Captain Knox breathed. His face, usually stoic, was ashen. Blood splattered his armor, a stark crimson against the polished steel.
Skylar’s mind raced. The Gryphon stirred within her, ancient instincts recognizing a formidable threat. Talons and feathers wouldn’t be enough. Not for this.
Her eyes swept over the chaos. There—a fallen Thorncrest soldier. His sword gleamed dully in his lifeless grip.
She moved. Silk billowed around her legs as she darted forward. The wet squelch of flesh as she wrenched the blade free made her gag. But its weight felt right. Familiar. A small comfort in this nightmare.
“How did she escape?” Skylar turned to Arye, brow furrowed.
His face darkened. “There was a mole. I took care of it.”
A grin tugged at her lips, unbidden. “Of course you did.”
Their eyes met. Suddenly, the gravity of her deception crashed down. This was the first time she’d truly looked at him as herself. As a woman, not the Duke she’d pretended to be. Heat rose to her cheeks. She averted her gaze, shame and embarrassment warring within her.
“Sky—” Arye started to say, his voice soft.
The monster shrieked. The sound reverberated through the ballroom, sending shards of pain lancing through Skylar’s skull. Vines and roots lashed out in all directions. Nobles screamed, high and panicked, scrambling for safety.
“Captain!” Skylar barked, falling into command. “Get everyone to the far side. Now!”
He nodded sharply. “You heard the lady! Move your arses!”
One guard, face pale with fear, spoke up. “But… the King is over there, my lady.”
Skylar’s eyes narrowed. The Gryphon’s irritation merged with her own. “I don’t care where the King is. That side is furthest from the enemy. Everyone goes.”
“We can’t just?—”
She tilted her head towards Arye. “Unless you’d prefer to explain to His Highness why you left his subjects to die?”
The guard shifted uncomfortably, then hurried to comply.
Skylar reached up, touching her hair. A dull ache throbbed at her scalp, loose pins fell away. An idea formed. She turned to the Gryphon, its feathers gleaming even in the chaos. If she could ride it…
The Divine Beast nudged her tenderly, a gesture so reminiscent of Noire that Skylar’s heart ached. She hauled herself onto its back, feeling its power thrumming beneath her.
Arye tensed beside her. His hand gripped her ankle, squeezing gently. “Be careful.”
“Always.”
The transformed Princess Quince towered before them. Her eyes, once filled with haughty disdain, were now pure white. Devoid of humanity. Spasms wracked her monstrous form. Low, pained moans escaped what had once been lips.
“She’s suffering,” Skylar murmured, pity and revulsion twisting in her gut.
No time for sympathy. The monster lashed out. Vines whipped through the air with deadly force.
Skylar urged the Gryphon forward. Its powerful legs propelled them into action. Her stomach lurched at the sudden motion. She gripped tighter, struggling for balance.
The Gryphon leapt. Its wings spread wide, guiding their trajectory. They ricocheted off a wall. The impact jarred Skylar’s bones. She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to move with the Divine Beast.
The battle that ensued was like nothing Skylar had ever experienced. She and the Gryphon moved as one. Her combat experience melded with the Divine Beast’s preternatural reflexes. They bounded from wall to wall, ceiling to floor. Dodging grasping vines. Severing writhing tendrils.
The air filled with the sickening squelch of sliced vegetation. Acrid fluid dripped from each wound. Skylar’s senses overwhelmed her. The Gryphon’s heightened awareness bled into her own. She smelled fear-sweat. Heard rapid heartbeats. Tasted blood. Dizzying. Exhilarating. Terrifying.
“Your left!” Arye’s shout cut through the chaos.
The Gryphon twisted mid-leap, barely avoiding a lashing vine. Skylar’s heart pounded. Adrenaline surged.
Below, the battle raged. The Captain and his men clashed with Thorncrest soldiers. Arye was a whirlwind of deadly grace, his blade singing as he cut down foes. His eyes constantly darted upward, checking on Skylar.
Nobles cowered behind overturned tables. Lady Emma’s gown was stained with blood. Her face a mask of terror as she clutched someone’s arm. “This is madness!” she shrieked. “We’ll all die here!”
A Thorncrest soldier charged towards her. Captain Knox appeared, his blade slicing through the attacker’s neck. “Get to the safe zone, now!” he barked.
But Princess Quince’s monstrous form was relentless. Each severed vine regrew almost instantly. Frustration built within Skylar as the fight dragged on.
“We need to find a weak point!” Arye shouted from the other side of the room, ducking under a wild swing.
Skylar’s eyes scanned the writhing mass, searching for vulnerability. Sweat trickled down her back, muscles burning with exertion.
The princess’s body. If they could reach the human part…
The Gryphon angled towards the grotesque torso. Skylar raised her sword, ready to strike?—
Disaster struck.
Vines lashed out, thorns digging deep into the Gryphon’s flesh. Its shriek of pain sent shivers down Skylar’s spine. More tendrils snaked around them, thorny bonds tightening.
Panic surged. They were trapped. The world tilted as they were yanked downward.
“Duke!” Captain Knox fought to reach her, but a wall of enemies blocked his path.
Skylar struggled against the vines, thorns tearing at her flesh. Blood trickled down her arms and legs. The monster’s sickly sweet ooze filled her nostrils, making her gag. She felt the Gryphon’s desperation, its ancient power straining against unnatural bonds.
Then, Princess Quince’s attention shifted.
Skylar’s heart nearly stopped. Across the ballroom, her mother stood trapped against the wall, Conley cradled in her arms. Terror etched the Dowager Duchess’s face.
Time slowed. Princess Quince began to move. Surging towards them.
Without thinking, Skylar wrenched free from the Gryphon’s back. Pain seared through her as thorns tore her flesh. She hit the ground hard, breath knocked from her lungs.
But she was up in an instant, sword clutched tight. Her gown hung in bloodied tatters as she sprinted across the ballroom. Bare feet slipped in blood and viscera.
Even as she ran, she knew. Sickening certainty. She wouldn’t make it in time. Princess Quince was too close, too fast.
“Mother!” Skylar screamed, voice raw. “Run!”
The Dowager Duchess stood frozen, clutching Conley. The infant’s wails pierced the air.
Skylar pushed harder. Muscles burned. Lungs heaved. Still too far.
The Gryphon’s panic and rage echoed her own. It screeched, struggling against its bonds. Trapped. Helpless.
Her mother’s eyes met hers across the chaos. A lifetime passed between them. Love. Sacrifice. Secrets. Skylar saw the resignation in her mother’s gaze. The silent apology. The fierce love.
Realization hit like a sledgehammer. Despair threatened to overwhelm her.
She couldn’t reach them.
She couldn’t save them.