Another guardian runs up to Councilor Bouchard with a mirror about the size of her hand. “Councilor,” she says, “You need to—”
“I don’t have time right now,” he tells her.
“This is urgent.”
“Is anything more urgent than dealing with the woman responsible for the Queen’s assassination?”
“Yes.” She holds the mirror toward him. “You need to speak to Councilor Threshmore. There’s been a massive explosion at Velazar Prison. The protective layer over the island is gone, hundreds of prisoners have escaped, and most of the guards have disappeared.”
“What? Give me that.” Councilor Bouchard snatches the mirror and paces to the side of the ballroom, speaking in low tones. All I can hear now are the low murmurings of the guardians gathered in the hallway and Angelica’s quiet laughter.
“Oh no.” Chase grips my arm, leaning toward me with urgency in his gaze.
“What? What are you thinking?”
“The tower,” he says. “The tower in the visions. The tower where all the people died.”
“Yes?”
“It’s at Velazar Prison.”
Ice settles in my veins. “Velazar Prison. Where Amon is.”
“Yes.”
I find myself slowly shaking my head. “Angelica didn’t leave Amon out of her plans. He was the plan. She’s been distracting us.”
Chase nods. “And by the time we get there, it could be too late.”
By the time we get there, it could be too late. My heart becomes leaden and plummets down, down, down at the sound of his words. “What do we do?”
Chase shakes his head. “Access to the faerie paths is hours away. Then we still have to take boats to Velazar Island. Even if we arrive in time, with the witches so powerful and with all those escaped prisoners ready to fight for their freedom … I don’t know if I can stop them. The Guild can send every guardian who isn’t here. They’ll arrive in time. But will there be enough of them to overpower the witches?”
My eyebrows knit together. “So …”
“So we can’t do this alone.” He moves to stand. “And neither can they.”
“No, wait.” I grasp his hand because I know what he’s about to do and I know how insane it is. “Don’t—”
“We have to,” he tells me. “This is our world we’re talking about.” Still holding the crown, he rises fully. With hands raised in a non-threatening gesture, he walks out from behind the throne and faces the ballroom full of guardians.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
Hundreds of glittering guardian weapons point toward the man who was once Lord Draven—and at least half of them flash through the air a second later. Chase clenches one raised hand into a fist, and every weapon slams up against an invisible barrier before vanishing. The air ripples as Chase lets go of his shield magic, clearly unconcerned by the possibility of another attack coming his way. I remain hidden behind the throne, my hands clasped over my mouth and my heart pounding as I watch through the latticework of the throne’s base.
“We have a problem,” Chase says to everyone. “A new threat. And we’re only likely to stop it if we work together.”
“Oh, we have a problem, all right,” Head Councilor Bouchard growls. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Yes. I’m aware of that. As you can see, however, I am very much alive and no longer under the influence of Tharros Mizreth. His power was destroyed a decade ago while I was wearing the Unseelie Queen’s eternity necklace. That necklace prevented me from dying.”
“So you’ve been in hiding all this time,” Councilor Bouchard says, slowly shaking this head, “waiting for the chance to reclaim your power.”
“No. I don’t want power. I don’t want a throne.” Chase shakes the Seelie crown, and the emeralds glitter in the light of so many weapons. “My mother might have been after this crown, but she and I are not allies—as you very well know. After all, you chose to set her free in exchange for me.” A wave of murmurs spreads across the crowd. “Something you may have chosen not to tell the rest of your Guild about, I see,” Chase adds. “But that’s irrelevant right now. What matters is this: You believed Princess Angelica planned to tear through the veil that separates our world from the non-magical world, which is one of the reasons you came here to apprehend her. This, however, has been a ruse. A distraction. There is a man in Velazar Prison who has been freed by the explosion you were just informed of. He is the one who will perform this spell tonight, and if we don’t stop him, two worlds that should forever remain separate will begin to merge.”
Councilor Bouchard draws himself up to his not-so-impressive full height as his face flushes pink like the streaks that run through his dark hair. “There is no we,” he says. “How can you possibly think we would ever be naive enough to trust you?”
“Perhaps because you have no other choice? The witches assisting with tonight’s spell are impossibly powerful. They’ve consumed the energy of dozens, perhaps hundreds, of fae. You could lose countless guardians in the fight against them—or you could let me help you.”
The Head Councilor’s jaw trembles as he struggles to contain his obvious rage. “How dare you? How dare you stand there and attempt to negotiate with us as if the atrocities you committed ten years ago meant nothing? You are filled with nothing but evil. You are responsible for more devastation than any other person in history, and we will never forget that.”
Chase slowly bends and places the crown on the platform floor. His voice is quiet, strained as he straightens and responds. “I will never forget either. Never. So let me do this. Let me help you save our world. Please, before it’s too late.”
“The only thing you will help us do is—”
Before Councilor Bouchard can finish his sentence, light blazes behind him and a figure appears. A witch. Guardians everywhere react instantly, but Tilda doesn’t waste a second. Her black candle is already burning, and she lunges for Angelica. In a second flash of light, Tilda, Angelica, and every guard restraining Angelica disappear from the ballroom.
Several moments of confusion pass as weapons fly across the empty space and guardians come to a halt, twisting around, their eyes searching. They fall still in the moment they acknowledge exactly what’s happened: Princess Angelica, assassinator of the Queen and usurper of the Seelie throne, is gone.
Councilor Bouchard lets out a wordless cry of fury, turns back to Chase, and races for him. Every guardian follows. Magic crackles, weapons fly, guardians shout—before a whirling blizzard blocks out all sound and sight. I jump to my feet as a hand wraps around my arm and pulls me away so fast my feet can barely keep up. I can’t see a single thing through the freezing blizzard, and if I were on my own, I’d surely be swept away by the powerful wind. But Chase pulls me along as easily as if the wind means nothing to him—which I suppose it doesn’t, since he’s the one creating it.
We’re somewhere outside with grass racing by beneath our feet when the snow clears enough for me to see where we’re going and the wind subsides to the point where I can hear the yelling in my ear: “What the flipping hell is happening?”
“Run!” Chase yells back. “Get to the greenhouse!”
I let go of his hand so I can pump my arms faster. “Around the outside, right?” I pant. The greenhouse is all the way on the other side of the palace, but I’d rather take the longer route than have to navigate the passages and hallways of the palace.
“Yeah.” Chase pulls ahead of me, leading the way. “Faster, Calla. Some guardians may know of the tunnel.”
I push myself to the point where my chest starts burning. The blizzard vanishes and the gardens flash by. Statues, fountains, topiary bushes, hedges. We reach the end of this side of the palace and slow as we turn, then speed up again, Chase urging me on the whole time. I hate that I’m slowing him down, but I can’t push myself any faster. More hedges and a pavilion and trees whipping by, and then we’re around the next corner. I see it now, the jagged edge
of the shattered greenhouse dome—and there, approaching from the other direction, are three figures I recognize.
I slow as we race through the greenhouse entrance, almost dropping to the ground in a gasping heap. Chase skids to a halt and pushes through the rosebushes, panting, “Everyone here?”
“Yeah.”
“Open up.”
“Dude, what the hell were you thinking in that ballroom?”
“Just get in the tunnel!”
Within seconds, we’re all stumbling down the stairs and into the dark tunnel below. The trapdoor slams shut, and light appears a moment later after Chase touches the tunnel wall.
“Seriously,” Darius says to Chase. “Are you insane?”
“Can we argue about my possible insanity later?” Chase says, already running.
I’ve barely gathered my breath, but I’m all too aware of the urgency, so I force my tired limbs to keep going. Moving as quickly as we can, we soon reach the other end of the tunnel.
“What’s the easiest way past the centaurs?” Lumethon asks as we stop by the stairs.
“Probably an illusion,” Gaius says, looking at me.
An illusion? My mind feels as weary as it did when I awoke this morning, but I can probably—
“No, I’ll do it,” Chase says as he climbs the stairs and raises his hand to the trapdoor. “Lightning should temporarily blind them, and I’ll add a thick mist to bring visibility right down. But they may shoot arrows at random anyway, so keep a shield around you as we run.”
“An illusion is simpler and safer,” Gaius says. “Just let Calla do it.”
“Yeah, I can do it,” I say, stepping forward, my chest still heaving a little.
“No.” Elizabeth places a hand on my arm. “Chase, go ahead. You’re far stronger than the rest of us, so you may as well handle it.”
“He just conjured an entire blizzard, Elizabeth,” Ana says. “He’s probably feeling a little tired at the moment.”
“Can someone just get us out of here?” Darius asks.
“I’m perfectly fine,” Chase announces, “and I’m opening the trapdoor now.” He places both hands against the metal, then heaves. I shut my eyes as blinding light shines down into the tunnel, followed by the crack of thunder. “Run now!” Chase shouts.
I hasten up the stairs. Out in the forest, I focus on both the layer of protective magic over my body and the foggy shape of my closest teammate running in front of me through the mist. I don’t know if Chase has any idea where he’s leading us, but I simply keep following. As the mist begins to clear, and it becomes less likely to trip over obstacles or each other, we run faster. “Calla,” Chase calls to me. “We’re nearing the edge of the forest, but I don’t see the rocks.”
I look around as I slow. My memory of the area is almost nonexistent, considering I was concentrating on both an invisibility illusion and keeping Chase upright the last time we came this way. “Uh, I think we were further left last time. We didn’t run straight when we came out of the tunnel, remember? That centaur arrow came out of nowhere from the right.”
I’m worried I may be remembering incorrectly, but we veer toward the left anyway, and after another few minutes, the rocks come into view. “Yes,” I murmur to myself as sweet relief hits me.
We race onward, around the rocks, and toward the flat, open area. The gargoyles have moved into the shade of the nearest trees, and the dragon is curled up and sleeping in pretty much the exact spot it landed last night.
“Get on the dragon with Gaius,” Chase tells me as we reach the creatures. “There’s space in the harness for two of you.” I don’t complain. Climbing onto a dragon’s back may be awkward and scary, but not as terrifying as being near the ridged horns, protruding fangs, and demon-like faces of the gargoyles. In no time at all, I’m clutching onto Gaius and dragon wings are beating the air, and then we’re rising up, up, up, leaving the forest and the centaurs and every horror of the Seelie Court far behind us.
* * *
Once we’re high in the air and Gaius has conjured up a curved layer of magic in front of us to keep the wind from tearing at our faces, I fish through all the inside straps and pockets of my jacket until I find my stylus and the little round mirror Perry gave me. With a few quick strokes across the mirror’s surface, I’ve written the spell to call him.
He answers quickly, as if he wasn’t far from his mirror. “Calla! I tried to call you last night.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve had a lot going on.”
“Did you know about the Seelie Queen’s assassination? And Princess Angelica taking the crown? And flipping Lord Draven! We heard last night. I think the whole world is probably in a panic by now. The Guild totally freaked out. Dispatched at least half our guardians to the Seelie Court some time during the night, plus guardians from every other Guild. They’re scared of that veil prophecy you told us about.”
“I know,” I say when I can get a word in. “They caught Angelica. And then she got away.”
“Where are you?” Perry interrupts before I can get to my point. “Why are the clouds moving oddly behind—Wait, are you flying?”
“Yeah, I’m on a dragon. Long story. But I need to tell you something, Perry. I assume you’re going to hear about it soon, but just in case Councilor Bouchard is idiotic enough to think it’s all a trick and not take it seriously, I need someone at the Guild to know: There was an explosion at Velazar Prison, and a prisoner named Amon is going to perform the spell—the magic that tears through the veil—tonight with the assistance of two witches, and presumably Angelica, since she’s free again.”
“But … so … what about Draven?”
“That’s not important. I don’t have time to explain it now, but … he’s not Draven anymore. This isn’t about him. This is about stopping Angelica and Amon. It’ll take the guardians here hours to reach a place the faerie paths can be accessed from. So every guardian who isn’t here needs to get to Velazar immediately. Can you pass that message on, if Councilor Bouchard hasn’t already done so?”
“I—Yes. It’s early here. I’m not at the Guild yet, but I can go now. Did you …” He shuts his eyes for a moment and gives a brief shake of his head. “You said ‘here.’ Are you … at the Seelie Court?”
“Uh … maybe.”
“Whoa! How did you—Oh, did you follow Olive there? Is that where she disappears to periodically?”
“Yes. But, Perry, you have to get to the Guild now, okay?”
“Of course. I understand. I assume you’ll head to Velazar as soon as you can access the paths? I’ll see you there, then. We can kick the bad guys’ butts together.”
“What?” I grip the harness tighter as alarm floods me. “No, you mustn’t go with.”
Confusion lines Perry’s face. “Why not?”
“Because … you’re not a guardian yet. And it’s going to be seriously dangerous.”
He raises one eyebrow. “Are you going?”
“Well, yes, but that’s different. The Guild has no control over what I do.”
Perry’s mouth quirks up in amusement. “You think the Guild has any control over what I do? Sure, it’s against standard procedure for trainees to get involved in something like this, but I doubt anyone will notice. Everyone’s too busy worrying about the return of Lord Draven right now.”
“Lord Draven isn’t a threat! Trust me. He’s actually trying to help. And you need stay out of—”
“Help? Did you say he’s trying to help? Okay, now you’re smoking something.”
“Perry!” I release a groan of frustration. “Just get to Guild, okay? And whatever you end up doing, just don’t get yourself killed.”
He smiles and reaches up to tap the mirror. “Same to you, Calla,” he says before his face vanishes, leaving a reflection of the cloud-streaked sky in my little mirror. Before putting it away, I start the spell again, this time pointing my thoughts toward Ryn. I wouldn’t previously have risked contacting him this way—the Guild is probably still mon
itoring every mirror and amber in his home, aside from the old one I gave him—but somehow I think the Guild has more important things to worry about now than catching me. Besides, with my amber being almost the size of a brick and too large to comfortably fit in any of my pockets, a mirror call is my only option right now.
Ryn doesn’t answer, though. I didn’t really expect him to, but I had to try anyway. I wish I could call Dad and tell him what’s going on, but that’s not an option. No mirrors or amber down in the Guild’s detainment area. I return my mirror to the inside of my jacket, pull the jacket zip right up, and hang tightly onto the harness, aware of every second ticking by. I shift around as much as the harness will allow, but that doesn’t keep my body from beginning to ache from sitting in the same position and tensing against the air that’s a lot colder up here than on the ground. I could warm myself with magic, but the curse has left me tired enough as it is. Best to save my energy for the actual fight.
When the torturously long journey finally comes to an end and we land beside the river where our mission began two days ago, Chase wastes no time jumping off his gargoyle. “Everyone get your gargoyles—and dragon—into a line adjacent to one another so you can touch hands without dismounting.” He opens a doorway to the faerie paths and pulls it wider, wider, and wider still, until eventually it’s wide enough for us all to walk our creatures through together. “Ana, focus on that cliff above the beach near Velazar Island. The rest of you, keep your minds clear.”
“Wait, where are you going?” Gaius asks.
“Back to the mountain to get the rest of the gargoyles. If the guardians fail us, we’ll need all the help we can get with an island full of escaped convicts.”
“Chase!” Ana protests loudly. “We can’t—”
“Yes you can. I won’t be long. I’ll probably catch up to you on the way.”
I undo my harness and slide to the ground. “I’m going with you. I need to contact Ryn, and that old amber is back at the mountain. Besides, you don’t actually have a key to the faerie door.”
A Faerie's Curse (Creepy Hollow #6) Page 23
