Page 163 of Kingdoms of Night

Puck did not slow. He dragged them down the polished stone staircase, picking up speed as he went.

With every breath, the thunder of the hooves and screeching of the horns intensified.

They crashed through a doorway out onto the top level of a tiled marble courtyard, hemmed in with elegant railings. Below, four levels tiered at staggered heights.

Puck led them down a wide set of stairs to the next level. Her slippers slid on the polished gray stone, nearly sending her flying down the stairs.

“Faster,” Puck shouted. “If we’re caught, I can’t—”

Spectral horses emerged, painted with symbols and trailing blue-white energy, warriors on their backs clad in armor of bronze and white gold. Fog rolled in around them.

Her stomach tumbled and knotted, an unfamiliar dread weaving tremors through her fingers.

One of the warriors hefted up a great bronze spear and flung it.

Idalno recoiled, jerking Feron back as Puck vanished in a puff of magenta and turquoise smoke.

The spear struck the wall where Puck had been.

The armored riders poured into the courtyard, wielding enormous shining spears, glistening halberds, and glittering pikes. Great hounds with white fur and red ears raced and bayed alongside them.

From the highest level, Oberon peered over the railing with his goblet of wine, appearing more annoyed than bored at the moment, his brows knit.

With a rabid bark, one of the hounds jumped between them. Idalno lost her grip on Feron’s hand.

He staggered and collapsed, nearly striking his head on a colorfully painted urn.

“Feron!” she cried out.

The hound lunged in front of her again, snapping its massive jaws. Eyes still glazed, Feron sprang up toward her, squaring off with the hound. He bared his teeth as a guttural snarl rolled through him, keeping himself between her and the hound.

Another one bolted in from the left. Their loud barks shook through her. She hissed, as if that would do anything and lifted her hand toward the nearest urn filled with dying plants. Snake vines or creeper, it didn’t matter, as long as she got them out--

He shook his head as if to clear it, and snarled, claws tearing out of his hands once more. He bellowed, his roar both wolf and man at once.

Yes! She would have cheered him except one of the hounds lunged. She dropped back and leaped over to the urn.

The hounds swung around, ears laying flat against their skulls as they bared their teeth at him.

She plunged her hand into the urns, praying the soil wasn’t too dead. The broken edge scraped against her forearm. It barely responded to her call. Whatever life remained had nearly vanished. It needed more.

Gritting her teeth, she dragged her arm over the jagged edge. It stung as she pulled away, but the drops of blood dripped onto the dull brown soil and dead yellow stems.

“It’s all right, it’s all right,” she whispered fiercely. She just needed a few seconds more.

He swiped at one of the hounds, sending it yelping across the tiles.

Staggering, he struck at the next.

The riders kept pouring in, running in a precise ever-tightening circle around them.

Every avenue of escape had been cut off.

They were surrounded.

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

IDALNO

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