Read A Sliver of Shadow Online
Authors: Allison Pang
The prince quickly rattled off something to the tiny Fae in the same language as before. The pixie hovered there a moment, scratching his head before pointing down the hillside and gesturing anxiously.
“Time to go,” Brystion said. “Lead the way.”
The pixie tore off at a frantic pace, Brystion jogging easily behind it, his hooves rapping upon the ground. Talivar kept abreast, his mouth becoming a grim line when our eyes met. He seemed so much older than before, the weight of his several hundred years suddenly very obvious.
The forest had grown quiet as we moved, Brystion taking great leaping strides, carrying my extra weight as though it was nothing. The thud of his hooves became louder, and I realized we were upon ancient stone and thick marble slabs, riddled with cracks and torn by time. He skidded slightly, his grunt of apology lost in the slide of gravel and the twang of fletching beside my ear.
“Oh, shit.” I twisted my head even as he rolled, ducking so that he landed on his shoulder. I tumbled gracelessly above him, his clawed fingers pressing my head down to his chest.
Another volley of arrows flew and I struggled to try to find Talivar.
“Don’t move,” Ion hissed. “He’s fine … he made it behind the fallen pillar.” I felt disconnected from his words, my eyes taking in the exquisitely carved arches gleaming with the burnished softness of old bone.
“What is it?” A sick certainty clenched my gut even as
I asked the question. The metallic ring of armor upon the marble answered me soon enough. The daemons had cut us off. “Do you see the Door?” I searched frantically for the pixie.
“There,” the incubus whispered. “Just past the altar, in that alcove.” I turned my head and saw the pixie tucked up against it, waving frantically at me.
“All right. So what do we do now?”
“Can you open it? The rest of it would be moot if you can’t.” He slowly turned us so that he was on top of me, snarling as he bent. A hot trickle of blood coated my fingers and I jerked my hand away.
“Jesus, Ion, you’ve been hit.” I scrambled up despite his protest to see the arrow jutting from the perfect ebony of his skin.
“Duly noted. Don’t think it’s too deep.” He grimaced, his teeth flashing white. “Still stings like a bitch, though.”
“How are we going to get there?” I looked at our own pillar, swearing softly. This was a different set of daemons than before, and they didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry to find us, though they certainly began a systematic flanking of the alcove. They knew what it was … and that I had the Key.
I sank to my knees, clasping the amulet. It flared to life beneath my fingers. Maybe I was beginning to form more of an affinity with it, but I’d analyze it later.
The power pulsed through me, seeking its way until I felt the underlying resonance shiver deep and low. This Door seemed … sleepy. It hadn’t been used in a while, and I suddenly felt as though I was being weighed by some sort of otherworldly scrutiny. Which was ridiculous. Doors weren’t sentient, as far as I knew.
Not that you really know dick about Doors
.
“I’ve got it,” I murmured. “I think I can get it to work. Now, how do I get there?”
“Leave that to me,” Talivar said, his voice quiet. I startled. He’d slipped his way over to us.
Brystion’s eyes narrowed. “Ransom, then?”
“Aye. They won’t be too kind to me, I wouldn’t think but they won’t keep me too long either,” he added bitterly. “Too much fun to throw me in my mother’s face as a reason for her to bend to their wishes.”
“They’ll trade you,” I said, finally getting it. “You for Maurice.”
“Probably.” His mouth kicked into a slight grin and he reached up to cup my chin. “But I suspect you’re going to figure something out. You always do.”
Ion stomped a warning, setting me down. “You rely on her too much,” he snarled. “All of you do.”
“And you would suck her half dry if given a chance, my friend. I saw the way you looked at her the other night.” The prince raised a brow. “Not to mention the way you nearly just shagged her against the tree.”
I flushed. “Talivar … I didn’t mean for it to happen …”
“I’m sure you didn’t.” His mouth met mine for an instant and I could taste his sorrow upon his tongue. “And you and I aren’t over yet,” he whispered. “TouchStone.” I shivered at the word, even as my heart ached to hear it. “Take her home, incubus. Keep her safe.”
Brystion inclined his head formally.
I shook my head, panic rabbiting under my ribs. “We will
not
leave you here. I’ll go and get help. There must be a way to convince—”
The prince pressed a finger to my lips. “I want you to tell Roweena to break our Contract. You’ll be free of any obligation you hold to me.”
“But—”
“I’m going out there now. I’ll take as many of them as I can.” His nostrils flared. “Don’t look back, Abby. Please. Just get to that Door and go through.”
I swallowed a sob. So many ways this could have gone and we got stuck with this one. Not that I was going to let it go down like this. Not yet.
Brystion shifted me in his arms and let out a chuffing breath. “Good luck,” he said simply. The elf bowed his head in return and then bolted from our hiding place. The whistling twang of arrows sounded through the trees and I saw his hands moving in a blur as he let out shot after shot. The incubus hesitated a moment more.
“Go,” I whispered. His legs quivered in response.
“I’m sorry.” His hooves dug into the thick underbrush, swift and graceful, each thrust of his curved hind legs propelling us forward with an elegant cadence. His antlers brushed the lower tree branches, leaves catching on the glassy points like a crown of gold, stark against his dark skin.
Behind us, I heard a muffled grunt and I let out a low cry to see the prince surrounded by a cluster of daemons. His bow had disappeared and he stood in the center, sword drawn, moving in a deadly and precise motion. The silver of his blade darted and thrust until it was coated with a fine red spatter. His other hand clutched a curved dagger and with these he spun, cutting a swath of bodies as he went.
The moment hovered before us, caught in the feral gleam of his smile and the furrow of his brow, the curl of his lip and the flex and hew of his muscles. Each movement was with purpose and for the first time I could really see how the arc of years of battle had marked him, turning his flesh into its own sort of weapon.
The hitch of his stride was swallowed up by the swivel
of his hips and the twist of his wrist, the vambraces on his forearm an inky blur. He spun again and this time his eye caught mine for the barest of seconds, its blue hue blazing in a heated fury. A scant breath later and he had turned away, ducking beneath the oncoming slice of an opposing ax. Regardless of his assumptions of ransom, the daemons weren’t going to just let him walk all over them.
I opened my mouth to shout a warning, but the words cut off as a clawed hand fumbled its way across my lips. Brystion shook his head at me. “Don’t let his sacrifice go to waste. There’s no pride in that,” he added softly when I glared at him.
“Get me to the Door,” I said, refusing to look away from the prince. Even if Talivar said not to, I owed it to him to watch.
Brystion edged us to the alcove and set me down. “Do it quickly, Abby … and don’t look back.” He ducked low, his antlers shielding my view even as his words mocked me.
Don’t look
…
don’t look
…
don’t look.
I clutched at the necklace, feeling the Key spark beneath my fingertips. I willed it to open, but the magic seemed to slip through my hands as I tried to focus where I wanted to go.
“Do you have it?” Ion grunted. “He can’t hold them off for much longer.”
“It’s not the fucking TARDIS,” I snapped, blinking against the power.
Safety
I told it, my mind gibbering with the need to find us someplace we could regroup that wouldn’t potentially lead the daemons straight into the palace. The CrossRoads rushed past me like a river longing to escape.
And why wouldn’t it really? After all, it had been cooped up and I’d only managed to let it out in spurts. If an inanimate semblance of a road could be seen to have a personality, this one was nearly alive with its need to get out. It scrambled
past me and in the distance I could hear the shouts of alarm from the daemons. A moment later and the Door blazed to life.
I glanced behind me in time to see Talivar fall to his knees, a huge daemon slamming his face into the ground. I shrieked despite myself, fighting against the suddenly iron-grasp of the incubus’s fingers around my arms. “Let me go!”
He didn’t, of course, and judging by the attention I’d just drawn to us, this was probably for the best.
Brystion turned toward me, his eyes golden as he kissed me hard.
“Close it behind you, sweetheart.” Before I had a moment to process this, he shoved me through the Door.
“Goddamn you!” I stumbled through the other side, landing in heap in the grass of the courtyard garden … below my apartment.
Behind me the Door faded in a slurry of sparkles. I sat motionless for a matter of moments, blinking back angry tears when Brystion didn’t emerge. Numbly, I let the Key slip from my fingers, the magic sluicing away until all that stood before me was the dead space of the old gate.
I was home.
S
till clutching at the shredded top of my dress, I limped up the stairs and found the spare key I normally hid above the lintel. It was Glamoured, of course—not that it really mattered anyway.
“Buck up, Abby,” I scolded myself, ignoring the twinge of panic in my chest. “Faint heart never won fair lady.”
Swallowing hard, I slipped through the kitchen, wondering at the dust built up along the top of the half wall. First order of business was getting my own damn clothes. If I never saw another chemise it would be too soon. Inside, my mind raced with a hysteric sort of panic even as I attempted to disconnect from it, a false calm moving my limbs toward the bathroom.
Part of me wanted to rush right back into the thick of it, hoping beyond hope that somehow I’d be able to rescue my friends, to undo what we’d fucked up so badly. But what good would that do? I’d probably end up being captured with nothing to show for it.
I would have to go to the Queen and admit what we’d done. My fault for insisting we go to the Barras. My fault for insisting we find Tresa’s son.
My fault Talivar had been forced to fire upon the daemons.
My fault.
I would get clean. I would get dressed. I would figure out how to save everyone.
And then I would come home and sleep for a month.
I finger combed my hair quickly, ignoring the wet drips on my clothes. My cell phone had been dead when I checked it, so I’d left it charging while I was in the shower. I threw on my favorite pair of jeans and a black tank top. Underwear had never felt so good—and if it was only a mental sort of armor, I’d take it.
I flipped open the phone, blinking as it loaded up. First thing would be to give Charlie a call and check on Benjamin … and then, Katy … and Roweena … and then …
“Holy fuck,” I breathed, looking at the date on my cell. Three months.
Three. Goddamn. Months.
Careless of me to have traveled the CrossRoads so lightly … to have stayed in Faerie. I’d known that time could go hinky in the other realms like that, but I hadn’t quite realized it would be so … specific. At least Moira had paid up all the utilities. Someone else had apparently gotten my mail.
My hands trembled as I dialed Charlie’s number. I let out a relieved sigh when she picked up. “Charlie, it’s Abby. I’m … home.”
“Abby?” Charlie let out a squawk of surprise. “It’s nearly midnight. Where the hell have you all been? Is Melanie with you?”
“It’s complicated,” I muttered, wondering how the hell I was going to explain it all, not to mention that I felt like a complete piece of shit for leaving my best friend behind. My
fists clenched as I realized the daemons would take her as well.
Nobu’s bargain
…
My fault.
I grimaced at the phone. “How’s Benjamin? He doing okay?”
She paused. “Yes … but there have been a few changes. I think maybe you should come over here.”
“Actually, do you know where Roweena is? We’ve got a shitstorm of massive proportions brewing and I don’t think we have time to visit right now.” Plus, I only wanted to have to explain this once.
“She’s at the Judgment Hall. Robert is there too. It’s bad, Abby. A number of the OtherFolk have started fading. They’ve been burying them beneath the Church.”
I went cold at her words. Of course. The Door had shut when I was carried through on the deer the first time. Lack of concentration and physical distance must have done the whole thing in. I drew in a shuddering breath.
“All right. Then it’s a bigger clusterfuck than I thought. I’m going to head down there as soon as I can. I’ve got a few things I need to do and then I’ll be there. Bring Benjamin … and call Katy and Brandon too. They should at least be aware, I think.”
She made a muffled affirmation, but I couldn’t tell her mood by the inflection. It would have to be good enough.