“So you two, the dog, and me,” Apollo insists, arching an eyebrow as he gapes at me.
I shake my head. “You’re leaving Don and Ren by themselves to hold the rear?”
Apollo makes a face, curling his nose. “Yeah, I don’t think they could.”
Ren captures my gaze, curling his lips into a smile, then he shifts into his wolf. It’s still strange to see him do that. He shakes off his fur, and Oreo steps closer to sniff him. Ren lets him as we take position.
“So Tristan and Oreo with me,” I say. “Let’s keep it quiet until they find us out.”
We start in a jog to the front door. We climb the steps and enter the place. No alarm sounds, and there’s no one here now. Which is great because my jaw drops when I cross the threshold.
This is the place I left behind days ago, but it doesn’t look like it. Instead of the carved walls like I had entered a forest and the intricate decorations around stairs, everything is… Dead. The once-lush branches have withered, dried up, falling away from the stone surface. Even the steps seem rotten. There’s a weird, wet smell to the whole thing. Not pleasant. Not as it once was.
“Lovely place,” Apollo murmurs behind me in a mocking tone. I don’t stop to explain it wasn’t like this before. That maybe because I killed Prince, I also killed this place. The life thrumming in it.
Ren picks up his speed, and both he and Oreo take the lead. Oreo seems to know exactly where we’re going. I cross my fingers and hope we don’t meet any of the fae. It would make things so much easier. Just slip in and out, without them ever noticing we’ve been here.
Voices rise in the corridor up ahead. I raise a hand, indicating for them to slow down. Maybe there are guards here, or someone new about to take over the place. The voices sound excited, or irritated, and I can’t understand a word they speak. Not English. Though I’ve seen their language in the books, I’ve never actually heard them speaking it. They’ve been here for so long their English is perfect.
“Why are we stopping?” Donatello asks, and not in any voice. He freaking booms the question.
I wince and look over my shoulder at him with wide eyes. “Hush!” I hiss.
He arches an eyebrow in confusion, then points at his ear. “I can’t hear a thing, remember?” he booms again, and my heart squeezes in my chest. I reach out and press a forefinger to my lips, and he makes an O with his mouth in recognition.
But it was enough. The moment he nods in acceptance, I miss the voices discussing in the room ahead. They quiet down. Why are they so quiet?
Oreo growls. I whirl around to find him in an attack position, and three fae stare at us from the corridor ahead, just out of the room. They’re all in those practical, jokey-like clothes Prince wore. And they don’t look happy at our barging in.
The one in the front, a man with cheekbones as sharp as Prince’s and hair of a beautiful dark blue, bares his teeth in threat. “What are you doing in here?”
The woman behind him is not a stranger, even if I didn’t spend long with any fae but Prince. She has white dots over her blue face, like the night sky, and from the expression on her eyes, she recognizes me too.
She was here before. Working for Prince, or whatever it was she did here. Her eyes go round as she points a finger at me.
“The Shadow Mage!” she cries out, and all hell breaks loose.
Oreo and Ren do the first move, jumping on them. Maws close around arms, and the fae scream. They aren’t caught by surprise by long, though, chanting under their breaths, calling for magic, and slamming their hands down on fur. Oreo whines and lets go of his victim — he is a puppy, after all, and much smaller than Ren’s big wolf body. But the dog isn’t one to give up. He latches onto the fae’s leg, ripping his clothes. Ren makes for a much more dangerous opponent, putting the fae down and attacking with everything he’s got.
Call me a wimp. I have killed people — fae — before, but I don’t want to see the bloodbath that will follow a rabid wolf attack.
Throwing myself between them, I stare at the girl who called me out. She reaches for something inside her clothes, and I see the sharp, glinting blade of a knife rising in my direction. There’s rage in her face, and I wonder if Prince meant something to her. If I destroyed more than his life.
I don’t have time to pity her, though. Racing between the two fae being attacked, I raise a hand and call for the shadows. With the sunlight of the early morning spilling in through windows, shadows are rich and dark. They come to me easily, condensing around my fingers like heavy fog. The fae girl’s face drops in fear, and I slam my palm to her nose. Darkness explodes on her face, rising in a cloud around her head. She screams, a banshee-like scream that tells me she thinks I’m killing her.
I won’t, though. Not if she lets me pass.
Shoving my way past her, I pick up speed, but more fae show up, attracted by her screams. They come ready for a fight, holding weapons, donning their magic. There are four of them now, and I hold both my hands up, calling for more of the shadows, and slam them straight to their faces, shoving them out of my way. I awe at what I’ve just done, but the first tendrils of exhaustion already snake down at my neck. I breathe out a sigh as we rush past them.
More fae show up ahead. More than I can take on.
“Go,” Apollo roars behind me. “I won’t let them touch you.”
A part of me thinks — even hopes — he’ll shift into a dragon and burn everything down. But there are a bunch of dead plants ready to start a fire, and the corridor is too narrow for the span of his wings. I mentally pout as Apollo and Donatello race ahead, faster than I can follow, and pounce on the fae.
They’re beautiful and mortal. The fae can’t keep up with their motions, too fast, too strong. And my men don’t even need magic to put the attackers down. Fae drop like flies, crying out in pain, cursing us, cursingme. I pass them and make my way to Prince’s office, ignoring the guilt burning inside me.
The corridors grow quiet the more we enter the place. In the office, there are no sounds but the rustling of the wind on the trees outside. Tristan’s heavy steps follow me in, and we stop just inside the threshold to catch our breaths.