Of Silver and Beasts (10 page)

“Wait—” I rub my fingers over my forehead, thinking.

He turns and looks at me, arms crossed. “What? We have to hurry if we’re going to help in this fight.”

Surprised by his willingness to go to battle, I gawk at him, mouth parted. Then I shake my head. “No. You have to stay here and hide.” I stalk toward him and hold out my hand. “Give me my sword.”

His brow furrows. “You’ll need every able body you can get. Trust me, I’ve seen these Otherworlders. I can help, and I’m going.” He turns his back to me and grabs the horse’s reins. I watch him mount in stunned silence. I thought he’d be relieved—that he’d cower behind a sand dune until the invasion was over. He eyes me from atop his horse. “Are you ready to ride?”

It’s my duty to guard him, to make sure he’s safe. Empress Iana ordered it herself. And Carina, who’s still my superior, has given me a direct order to take Prince Caben out of Cavan. But I can’t allow my Nactue to fight this battle without me. Though I’ve just been appointed their leader, these are the girls I’ve grown up with. These are my girls. They’re my family, and I have to be by their side.

If the Otherworlders make it past the sentries guarding the gatehouse and walls, then all of Cavan is in danger. My mother is in danger. How can I ride off and leave her there unaware and unprotected?

The vow I took to protect my empress presses on my heart. If any harm comes to her that I could have prevented, Prince Caben will need protection from
me
. I won’t allow this man, prince or not, to interfere with my first duties to watch over her.

I nod my head once. “Yes. Let’s ride.” Taking the mane of the white horse, I swing myself onto her back, then hick my heels hard. “To the palace, girl.”

We bound over the open landscape at a full gallop. The sun is high, but dark, rain-swollen clouds are moving in, blocking its rays. They hover over the palace court, the skyline obscured and dusky, as if the Otherworlders have brought the darkness with them.

I glance to my left and the prince is staring straight ahead, his mouth set in a determined, hard line. I’m making a mistake by bringing him. I’m making a mistake by disobeying orders. But if the Otherworlders conquer, there may be no one left to answer to.

As we enter downtown, we don’t slow our pace. We push the horses on, pedestrians clearing a path for us when they see we’re not slackening. The high walls of the palace are to my right, and I’m tempted to stop right now and scale them to get to the fight quicker. But I have nothing. No rope. No climbing gear. Frustrated, I drive my heels into the mare’s side. “Faster, girl.”

We turn into the gatehouse. Claudia and the other sentries are gone. The gate has been closed, bolted shut, and the electric charge surrounding its iron bars set to full voltage, humming.

The palace is under lockdown.

“Shit,” I hiss.

Prince Caben circles his horse until he faces me. “Is there no other way in? A secret passage?”

“I’m sure there is, but I’ve not been given that information yet.” I curse under my breath again. “How did the Otherworlders get inside? They’re not in the city, so they didn’t all march through the gatehouse.”

With that thought, I glance around and study the wall. No, Otherworlders wouldn’t climb. They’d burrow, like filthy vermin. “Come on,” I say. “Head around the wall.” I click my teeth and tap my heels, ushering my horse into a slow trot.

Keeping our horses at a steady pace, I search the ground, and once we reach the backside of the palace, I spot them: holes. They must have traveled here during the night and set up camp, waiting for an opportune time to strike. A moment when the sentries were switching shifts. There’s a weak link in our system, and they discovered it.

I hop down and hunker near one of the holes. Pinching some of the loose dirt between my fingers, I check its consistency. It’s moist and retains shape when pressed, which means they dug these holes in a matter in minutes. “What kind of monsters are we dealing with,” I mumble to myself.

Standing, I face the prince. “Stick close. And do not go off on your own.” I level my most fierce glare at him. “Understood?”

He puffs out his chest. “I’ll have you know that I’ve trained with the greatest—”

“Yeah.” I wave him on to follow behind. “Just don’t lose my sword.”

I climb into the hole and dirt trickles down from the sides. It’s black, and the rich earth smell fills the musky tunnel. Reaching into my harness, I yank out my transmitter and beam its light ahead of me. Then I unsheathe my dagger and hold it before me in the other hand.

Halfway through the burrowed hole, the clanking of metal and shouts hits my ears. My chest tightens and my skin prickles with anticipation. I concentrate on keeping my breathing even, focused. Light peeks through the end of the tunnel.

“Remember to stay near,” I tell the prince, then dash toward the opening.

We break through and the fight is all around us. My eyes flick over the enemy. Their dirty, steely-gray armor is molded to their muscular bodies like a second skin. Dark cloths, cinched below their necks, wrap their heads, and matted dreadlocks poke out from beneath. The snarled mess surrounds their pale, unnatural skin that’s pulled tightly over their bones.

I sink my transmitter back into my harness and step into the fray, finding a discarded sword and attacking the nearest Otherworlder. His beady eyes—all white with tiny black pupils—size me up. A clear coating, like liquid glass, layers his eyes. Their protection from the sun, maybe.

“I’ll leave you in bleeding pieces, above-grounder,” he snarls, his voice thick and grating, like shattered glass in a grinder.

I don’t glance behind me to make sure the prince is keeping alive. I won’t draw attention to him.
Alyah, forgive my disobedience and protect him.

Stepping toward the Otherworlder, I slice my blade, connecting it with his. He wields a warrior sword, and the thick blade widens from the shaft, ending in a razor-edged point. Its steel cross guard matches his gray armor. He holds it with both hands as our swords
clank
together in a jarring blow. I push my weight against his rebound, moving into his space.

He laughs and turns his nose up. “I’ll feast on your flesh and grind your bones between my jaws.” His lips spread, revealing gnarled, decayed teeth.

Kicking my steel-toed boot into his shin, I lunge and butt the hilt of my sword into his forehead. “You’ll feast on rotten carcasses in hell, slime.”

He stumbles back, and I take advantage of his stunned state, knocking his arm holding the sword to the side, and stabbing the unprotected white flesh peeking through his armor. As my blade drives deeper, he gurgles out a rasp and drops his sword. His hands grasp my blade, blood staining them. I force the sword in until I hear a crunch as it connects with bone—his spine.

His eyes roll back and he sinks to his knees, falling to the stone floor of the courtyard.

Running the blade over his garment, I wipe the blood from my sword. Then I glance behind me. The prince thrusts his sword into his foe’s abdomen and yanks it free. He stands still as his enemy crumples, his eyes wide, staring at the fallen Otherworlder.

“Come on,” I say. “We’re heading toward the empress’s quarters. Yell if you get into trouble.”

He forces his head to move in a fluent nod, but its jerky, revealing his fear. “I’ve seen them before . . . but I’ll never get used to them.” He swallows. “I’ve never encountered anything like them.”

“I know,” I say, and look down at the blood pooling beside the creature that resembles a man, if only in parts. “Centuries of living below ground has disfigured the bastards pretty good.” I look up at the prince and snap my fingers, awakening him from his trance. “Prince, let’s go.”

Holding his sword out before him, he falls into step behind me as I maneuver through the fray. I’m tempted to run my blade through every Otherworlder I see, but I push myself on, knowing I have to get inside the palace—to my Nactue and empress.

If I were with them now, where would I tell them to go? Where would I tell them to hide the empress? I consider contacting Lilly, but if she and Willa are in a safe hiding spot, I don’t want to give them away. And if it were me, I’d have turned off my transmitter for that very reason. They’re smart. If they’re with the empress, I know they’re okay.

I close my eyes only for a moment to feel the connection to Empress Iana. She’s alive, but something’s wrong. The link is weak—I can’t sense anything more.

Panic spurs my chest and my eyes snap open. I hold on to the thought that Lilly and Willa will protect her as we fight our way through the battle toward the palace entrance.

Glancing over my shoulder, I spot Prince Caben backed into a corner of the courtyard, facing off with an Otherworlder. “Of course,” I mutter. But before I reach him, a blade crosses my line of vision and I stagger backward. The nasty Otherworlder raises his arm to attack again and I swing upward, slicing off his sword-wielding hand. He drops to the ground and cradles his wrist, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

Farrah, the prince
.

I sheath my dagger, grip my hilt with both hands, and charge—sword high and swinging—through the skirmish. The Otherworlder draws back his sword, ready to sever the prince’s head. A cry wrenches free from my throat as I slam my blade against his and force it down along his back. I wrap my arm around his neck, keeping his weapon pinned. My body trembles from the restraint, and a searing burn ignites my blood.

A powerful surge of energy bursts inside me, and the mercury quickens, speeding adrenaline through my veins like liquid fire. I squeeze, tightening my hold until I feel his sword arm weakening. Then I quickly release, step aside, and run my blade across his throat. He clutches his neck and gurgles a last, muted threat as he falls to the ground.

Prince Caben stares at me, his eyes wide as they flick over my face. I turn my back to him quickly, hiding my face from his probing eyes, and wait for the mercury to settle. I take in a steadying breath, forcing my blood to calm.

“How is it possible you overpowered a brawny monster like that?” he asks, coming up behind me.

“Come on,” I say, heading for the entrance.

He matches my pace. “It’s
not
possible.”

I huff, blowing my sweat-drenched bangs from my forehead. “I do a lot of pushups.”

He quits the subject as we climb the stairs. Otherworlders are pushing the protectors into the courtyard at full attack. I take off in a sprint to get to the doors before another wave hits.

We push through and scramble past worker-bots, dodging spilled mercury, metal gears, and hissing, frayed wires. Dead protectors clutter the inner ward, their severed limbs scattered around their bodies. Some sliced clean, others ripped from their torsos. The once-pristine white floor is covered in red, staining the grout a dark, grimy orange. The air stings my nose with the sharp, rusty scent of blood.

“They attacked here first and have moved on,” Prince Caben says. “It’s unlikely your Nactue or the empress remain. They probably evacuated her during the attack.”

Saying a prayer that he’s right, I strain to hear any movement or voices. Feel the bond to my empress. The palace is quiet, and her life force pulses low within me. But I need to check her quarters to be sure. “Keep on-guard. There still could be Otherworlders lurking.”

I don’t trust the lift to operate, so I dash for the spiral staircase. My breath pants out as I take them two at a time. Once we reach the empress’s wing, I stop, my feet locked in place.

My heart slams in my throat.

Lisa and Cara lie motionless in the corridor. Blood bathes the floor around them. I cover my mouth, and try to control the tremble of my limbs as I approach them. Kneeling, I press my fingers to Lisa’s neck to check for a pulse. Nothing. Her skin is still warm, but her life is gone. I do the same to Cara and confirm the worst for her, too.

A cry rips from my throat when I see Jordan and Missa farther down the hallway. “No!”

They’re dead
.

Where’s Lilly and Willa?

Prince Caben rests his hand on my shoulder as my gaze trails the death laid out before me. “Kaliope . . .” he says, and I spot Carina on the floor, one hand gripping her transmitter, the other clutching her sliced-open stomach.

I bound up and run over, then kneel beside her and press my palm to her wound, trying to stop the blood flow. Bright red spills over my fingers, and I choke back the blistering lump in my throat.

Her eyes meet mine, weak and haunted. “There,” she rasps.

I shake my head. “Don’t talk. I’ll call for help—”

“No,” she snaps. Even as she lies here dying, she cuts her eyes at me, demanding and annoyed. “Over there.” She points toward the empress’s quarters.

My eyes follow her limp finger, and my heart plummets.

Empress Iana lays sprawled out. All around her—

Blood.