by Lee French
“Not. Dead. Yet.” She gritted her teeth, refusing to give up, and tried to sit. The spikes hurt more sliding out of her arms and chest than they had going in. Tears streaming down her face, she wrenched her bleeding arms into her dragon-covered lap. “Curl,” she begged her fingers. Both hands twitched.
“Enion.” She leaned over to rest her forehead against Enion’s heaving bulk, sobbing and unable to stop. “Have to get up. Have to fight.”
“Hurts. Can’t.”
The absurd sound of such a deep voice whining made Claire stop, as if someone had slapped her. “Can.”
“Can’t.”
Knowing how hard he’d fought to reach her as they fell, she wanted to kick him. “You mean won’t. I will.” She shoved the dragon off her legs, barely registering how her hands moved now that she refused to accept anything less than obedience from her body.
Broken spikes had lodged in her legs. Everything hurt. She wobbled to her feet anyway. With a steadying hand on Enion’s side, she caught her breath. “Stay here if you need to. I’m going to fight.” Raising her gaze to the sky, she had no idea how she’d accomplish this. They lay at the bottom of a deep hole, foot-long spikes jutting out all around. Worse, she had no idea what had happened to her dagger.
Limbs still shaking and oozing blood in a dozen places, Claire grabbed a spike, thinking to use them as a kind of ladder. The tip broke off in her hand. She tossed it aside and curled her fingers around the thicker base. This seemed to hold well enough. If she had to take the time to knock the points off every single spike in here to get out, she would.
Heedless of fresh injuries, she punched down and smashed the tips off five spikes at once. She jabbed with her knee and broke more. When she had enough space, she grabbed the base of two spikes, stuck her foot on another, and jumped to get her other foot on a higher one. Sweeping her arm across spikes over her head, she smashed more tips away.
Progress would be slow.
Chapter 16
Justin
When Justin came to, he feared he might be a Phasm. A siren blared close enough to hurt his ears, making him cringe at the idea he’d died in the midst of something violent happening. That would make him a corrupted Phasm, and he didn’t want to have to be hunted and destroyed while he schemed to take down the Knights and the Palace.
Aches in his legs, combined with the coherence of his thoughts, made him reject the idea. As far as he knew, Phasms didn’t feel pain, corrupted or not. He opened his eyes and discovered he’d been loaded into an ambulance. The back doors remained open, showing him a clear, bright blue sky and a paramedic trying to get a stethoscope under his armor.
“Knock it off,” he growled, shoving the woman aside. “I’m fine.”
She squawked in surprise and stumbled against the cabinets behind her. “You’re not fine. A car hit you, and you passed out in the middle of the street.”
No one else had seen shadow snakes. Good. He sat up and checked his legs. His soaked jeans showed no sign of injury. Rain had washed away all the blood. “Do I look like I got hit by a car?”
“Well, no. But there’s a car with a smashed grille, and the driver swears you jumped in front of his car out of nowhere in the pouring rain.” She prodded his shin.
Justin bit back a wince. Whatever those shadows did, the injuries were taking longer to heal than normal. They might have had venom. He had to figure out where they came from and why. He also had to find Tariel. She’d undoubtedly survived, but if her wounds healed as slow as his, she could be lying in a ditch, in serious pain.
“I’m fine. I don’t need medical attention.” He yanked the IV needle out of his arm and wondered how long he’d been out.
“I disagree.”
“You can’t take me against my will.” Thankful they hadn’t tried to cut off his jeans or boots yet, he slid his feet to the floor.
“You’re not leaving without signing a release waiver.”
“Fine. I’ll sign your stupid paper. Was there a horse nearby?” He launched himself to his feet. His knees buckled, and he fell to the street.
The paramedic perched on the bumper, looking down at him. “Oh, yeah, you’re completely fine.”
“Shut up.” He rolled onto his stomach and looked around. Police directed traffic around the lane blocked off by the ambulance. Just up the street, he saw a guy in a grease-stained jumpsuit loading a black sedan onto a flatbed tow truck, its front end crumpled.
Justin didn’t remember being hit by a car. He remembered being flung by a shadow snake. Maybe he’d actually staggered away from the streetlight and into the street, in front of that car. Propping himself up, he had to wonder again where those things came from. If the storm had moved on when the shadows were done, they may have caused the strange weather in the first place. In that case, he might be able to think of a way to find them.
The paramedic stood beside him and tried to help him up. He shrugged her off and used the ambulance’s bumper instead.
“Where’s my sword?”
“You’re just not going to accept any help, are you?”
“No. Where’s the sword? And the horse. I need both.”
She huffed and crossed her arms. “If you’re fine, then you don’t need my help. Try the cops.” Without waiting for him to move, the paramedic grabbed one rear ambulance door and threw it shut.
Justin took the hint and forced himself to stand on his own two feet. It hurt, but he’d worked through worse. Tariel probably had run a fair distance to dislodge those shadows. He wondered if she’d taken Drew home rather than waiting around here for him to wake up. Keeping the kid out of harm’s way would rank higher on her list than sticking around to make Justin heal faster when his injuries didn’t threaten his life.
“You, the knight guy,” a uniformed patrolman said. He waved to get Justin’s attention.
“Great,” Justin grumbled. He gave a shot at flashing the officer a smile and knew it fell flat. “Where’s my sword?”
“Should he be walking around?” The officer directed this question to the paramedic, who approached with a clipboard and pen.
“He’s refusing medical treatment.” She shoved the clipboard at Justin’s hands. “Because he’s an idiot.”
“Thanks. There’s nothing wrong with my hearing, you know.” He took both pen and clipboard and scanned the form to figure out where to sign it. “I still want my sword.”
“It’s been bagged as evidence,” the officer said.
“Evidence of what?” He scribbled his name across a line and handed it back.
“Attempted aggravated assault.”
Justin squinted, trying to piece together the situation. “Am I being arrested for getting hit by a car?”
“He’s all yours,” the paramedic said as she walked away.
The officer crossed his arms. He stood a few inches shorter than Justin and had less muscle mass. “Do I need to arrest you? You could come willingly and offer a statement instead.”
“I don’t have time for this.” Justin pushed the cop aside and staggered to the nearest patrol car. He’d have to straighten this out later. For now, he needed to get to the bottom of the shadow snake problem. Shadows appearing in the middle of the street didn’t happen by accident. Someone or something called or created them, and he needed to put a stop to that as soon as possible.
“Sir, you need to stop.”
Justin paused at the police cruiser’s driver side door, intending to pop the trunk, and saw the officer had pointed a gun at him. Bullets wouldn’t penetrate his armor or his jeans, so he only needed to worry about his head. Ducking out of sight, he yanked the door open and used the lever to open the trunk.
“Stop right there.” Another officer came around the front of the car, also holding a gun.
Getting annoyed, Justin waved him off. “I just need my sword.” He crossed the distance to the trunk and flicked his gaze over the contents. A black plastic garbage bag taped around something the right size to be his sword
stood out among the yellow tool box, spare Kevlar vests, and two cardboard boxes.
“Sir, this is your last warning.”
Justin grabbed the bag and punched the blade’s tip through the plastic. “Go ahead,” he muttered. “Shoot me.” As he slammed the trunk shut, he saw Tariel’s head peering around the corner of a sandwich shop up the street. Only a few hundred yards stood between them.
He used the blade to slice the bag open and gripped the familiar hilt. These cops represented a distraction from his duty. As he always did when presented with such situations, he let the guise of the deluded but harmless Knight of Portland settle over him. “Gentlemen, we’re on the same team. You protect people by upholding the laws of our benevolent ruler. I, on the other hand, am beholden to a higher power. My duty demands I root out corruption in unexpected places. Do you not see the shadows among us?”
Deliberately pointing at nothing, he raised his sword. “There, my good men! I must away to fight the forces of evil.” Trusting they’d do what Portland cops always did and treat him as nothing more than another local weirdo, he gritted his teeth against the sharp stinging still affecting his legs and charged away from all the nearby people. Past the police cars, he found empty air and swung his sword at it. “Ha ha!” He sheathed his blade triumphantly. “Victory for us all. Until we meet again, noble guardsmen!”
Justin raised a fist in solidarity and saw the cops watching him, their guns lowered. He jogged the distance to Tariel. Drew clung to her saddle, his usually pale skin bright pink. The kid had somehow managed to get a sunburn through all of this.
“Are they following?” Justin sagged against Tariel, grateful for her support.
“No, you’re good. I never get tired of watching you pull that routine.” Tariel used her chin to urge him a few steps farther from the corner. “I’m still aching from those shadow things biting me. You?”
“Yes, you could say that.” He groaned as he pulled himself onto her back, behind Drew. “What happened to you?”
“I managed to scrape them off with a park bench and bite their heads off. I think the injuries healed already, but I suspect they drained more than blood.”
“I was thinking venom, but it makes more sense they’d feed on souls. That being the case, destroying them should have released the energy back to us, shouldn’t it? They didn’t have time to digest anything.”
“Unless they served as channels,” Tariel said, “feeding the energy back to their creator. In that case, we’d have to find and kill him to fully heal.”
Justin turned in the saddle, looking back toward Anne’s house. “Or her.” He scratched his cheek, trying to picture Anne summoning shadow snakes. “It really can’t be Anne. She does plant magic. Low grade stuff.”
“We don’t really know that much about witches. With Kurt’s demesne linked there…”
“He’s not corrupted.” Justin curled his hand into a fist, prepared to lean around Drew to thump Tariel between the ears if she disagreed.
“You’ve met him. I trust your judgment. On this particular thing, anyway.”
“It’s got to be someone she knows.”
“Are—” Drew’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “Are we going home now?”
“Yes. You’re not equipped to deal with this. I need to you tell Marie that I’ve got things to handle and will be back late tonight.”
Drew whimpered. Justin couldn’t fault him for that.
Chapter 17
Claire
Five feet up the side of the pit, Claire’s hand slipped. She fell, hitting several spikes again. Enion had spent the past several minutes carefully pulling his wings and body off the spikes, filling the air with grunting and groaning.
“I can’t fly.” He crawled to her side with his rear legs dragging across the ground behind him. Careful not to bite her, he used his teeth to pull her arm off two spikes.
Claire lay still and cursed at more pain. “Caius is a sadistic freak. Can you climb?”
Enion held his wing where she could see two jagged holes. “Why don’t we heal?”
“I don’t know.” She cringed and sat up. Everything hurt. She wanted to scream forever. “We have to get out and fight anyway. That’s what Knights do.”
The dragon nodded and reached up with one claw. He plunged it into the rock and pulled himself high enough to slam his other front claw into the wall. When he reached the highest point Claire had managed, he had to bash the spike tips away and lost his balance.
As she watched Enion dangle from one claw, flailing to catch the wall with the other, Claire thought about how she might do this. The best way forward usually seemed to be the obvious path, but this challenge had to have some other option.
Caius had made a point to tell her something she already knew the last time they’d been here: she and her sprite were partners. The dance lesson had hammered it home.
Staring up at the problem, Claire got an idea. “Enion, come back down.”
He obliged, stopping beside her. “We’re stuck.”
“No. If we climb up together, I can clear the spikes while you hold me up. Put your head on my back and catch me if I slip.”
Enion’s mouth cracked into a pained smile. “Yes! It’ll work.”
Claire mirrored him with a weak grin of her own. “I know it will.” She stepped onto the broken spikes and waited while Enion slammed his claws into the wall around her. He pressed his head against her back and they moved up together. She cleared the spikes, and he supported her weight until they reached the top of the pit. With his help, she dragged her body over the edge. He climbed up after.
“We did it!”
“Yeah.” Claire lay on her back, panting and gazing up at the impossibly blue sky. Silver flashes still glinted on top of the cliff, and she wondered how long Rondy could stand against Caius on his own. Though he might be at least as skilled as the First Knight, she’d watched Justin tire as he fought, and Rondy had to be at least three times his age.
“We have to get up there.”
Enion held up his torn wing again. “I still can’t fly.”
Rondy and Caius seemed so far away. It would take forever and a half to climb up there. Even if they somehow found stairs carved into the side, it would still take a long time. “We’ll never get there if we lie around here.” Claire rolled to her hands and knees, cursing the pain. More than anything, she wanted to get to Rondy’s side so he didn’t have to shoulder this burden for her. He’d been so patient and kind. He deserved so much better from her than falling off the side of a cliff and leaving him to die.
The idea of him dying because she couldn’t figure out how to overcome this obstacle made her more determined than ever to find a way. “We’re going to reach him in time to help.” She curled her hand into a fist and glared up at the precipice. “Enion, we’re going to get there.”
Enion smacked a claw on the broken ground. “Yes. We will.” He mantled his broken wings and sank into a crouch, ready to spring forward.
Before he could launch himself anywhere, Claire heard metal clang on metal behind her. The sound came from too close to be Rondy and Caius. When she whirled, though, she saw the two men facing off. Rondy and Caius each stood on pillars of rock, a wide gap between them. Rondy, encased in shining golden plate armor, flashed his long, thin blade through the air to clash with Caius’s shorter, broader sword.
Claire blinked, suddenly understanding this place better than she had a minute ago. She and Enion had crossed the distance somehow because they both demanded it happen. Like that one Knight told her, everything happened in the Palace—and in its heart—because she willed it to. If she wanted it hard enough, it would happen. Caius represented an opposing will, an obstacle of force intended to keep her from doing whatever she wanted without facing the gravity of it. Sometimes literally.
“Rondy needs us.” Adrenaline shot through her body, wiping away the worst of her pain. She ran for the battle. Her legs pumped with purpose, carrying her o
ver fingers of jagged rock and around prickly shrubs. The ground trembled beneath her feet, and spikes of stone shot up, trying to catch her.
Enion loped beside her, his wings folded tight against his body. Ahead, the earth cracked and broke apart, forming a chasm. Instead of faltering or stopping, Claire kept running. She knew she’d be able to jump over it and reach the other side. Enion dropped behind her, and when she leaped, he grabbed her from behind and lent his power to the task. They flew through the air together, crossing the impossibly wide gap.
They landed on the edge. Claire’s knees buckled, and she tumbled forward. Enion slammed one claw into the cliff and thumped against it. He scrabbled and scraped with the others, unable to catch them on anything.
Claire groaned. On her hands and knees, she looked up. The two men dueled directly overhead now. She only needed to climb Caius’s pillar to reach him. Looking back, she saw Enion needed help to get himself over the edge and froze, unable to choose between him and Rondy. Worse, she had no weapon. Her dagger had been lost in the fall, and she hadn’t seen it since. The dragon might be her only way to harm Caius.
She scrambled back to Enion and saw him still scraping his claws against the chasm wall, unable to catch anything. With his size, she’d never haul him up. “I believe you can do this,” she told him.
“Too smooth.” Enion stopped struggling and met her gaze, determined fire burning in his eyes. “Go. Save Rondy.”
“I don’t have my dagger.”
“Find it.”
She thumped the ground with her fist. “All of this is for you.”
“No.” Enion’s mouth curled up and she thought he’d nuzzle her cheek if he could. “For us. Both. Go. Fix it.”
Angry and scared and determined, Claire nodded and rose to her feet. She watched Rondy hop off his pillar. Another finger of rock rose to meet his feet. Caius jumped to Rondy’s vacated pillar. They clashed swords again. Claire thought Rondy seemed tired. His shoulders drooped, and Caius’s attacks became more frenzied, pushing Rondy back step by step.
