Page 43 of Shadow Cursed

"Right back at you."

I have a mission. It's not nearly as satisfying as cutting down a sea of humans could be, but it's considerably more useful. Though my body would have loved nothing more than to join the fight, I run to the harbor instead.

When I reach the quiet, dark shores, I don't take a moment to hesitate. I dive to the bottom of the river.

I never was taught to swim as a child. It's an activity beneath gentry folk, because running water is known to stifle our magic. It wasn't until my thirtieth year that Meda insisted I should know how to survive water. One of the many ways her seelie education differed from ours. We folk of the dark tend to shy away from that which displeases us. The seelie will always do what they believe is necessary.

I hated water then. I hate it more now, but I'm grateful. I remember an awkward stroke. I shed my doublet, letting it sink, and release my wings. They rip the fabric of my shirt at the back, but I ignore it. The iridescent, thin membranes flap, propelling me forward faster than my arms ever could.

I need to find a water folk—any water folk.

After some distance, I return to the surface, as much to breathe as to check my location. Then I sink again, and keep swimming. My eyes adjust to the darkness of the depths, yet I see no folk at all.

This can't be a coincidence. The river used to be full of nixies and other fae.

The Sea Court is staying away from Tenebris.

They know we're hopeless. They know we will fall.

I can't give up, although my limbs are heavy, my lungs begging for a break. I keep going, farther and farther, willing myself to believe those I've left behind will survive until I can help.

I have to believe it.

My family is fine. Drusk is fine. I will find help before it's too late.

Drusk

Ash is empty. There isn't a single soul alive in the entire hall. Not one sprite.

I stand in the middle of the building, letting it sink in.

They left.

They abandoned us.

More than that: they betrayed us.

I don't have to wonder how the enemies knew we were defenseless now.

I stand helplessly, letting it sink in, as the sound of cannons crashes around me.

We failed.

I turn on my heel, preparing to return to Whitecroft Hall and tell the queen she needs to call for an evacuation at once, when I hear it.

A grunt, coming out of one of the empty rooms I'd passed. I move toward it, until I stand in a messy study.

On the floor, next to a row of bookshelves, lies a familiar knight, a dagger planted in his side. The salamander who took me to the queen that first day.

I stand over him, dithering. Part of me wants to finish him off; the other knows I need to listen to him.

"What happened?"

He groans. "The king." He coughs, and the movement makes blood pour out of his wound. "He told us to move back to the Ash Court. Said he made a deal. I—" He winces, every word taking its toll. "Refused. I refused."

I stare at him, not offering any assistance.

In the face of such betrayal, I can't quite believe this. He refused, or he was left behind to keep spying on us.

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