Page 80 of A Tale of Ice and Ash
Not here. There was no way–
Another scream, human, wretched, filled with pain and blood.
“Run,” Eirwen hissed at the party.
Abandoning all pretence that Cole was a prisoner, they bolted up the stairs, emerging to a courtyard awash with bodies. Onyx, Merry, Oakley and one of the others still stood firm, but the shadows were crawling, like spiders skirting the edge of the ceiling.
Shades. Dozens of them.
“It’s not possible,” Onyx breathed, his voice ragged.
They’d cut off every exit. There was only one route left.
“The castle,” Eirwen said. “Come on!”
The shades streaked out of the darkness. The group bolted, following Cole and Eirwen. Guards rose from their stations at the doors, but stopped dead when they noticed their pursuers.
“Run!” Eirwen urged them. “Save yourselves!”
The guards did not stop them from fleeing inside, but neither did they abandon their posts. She heard a short scream and the sickening crunch of one of them being thrown against the wall a few seconds later.
They burst into the entrance hall, but the shades were on them in an instant, cutting across the stairs and dividing the group. Eirwen turned to fight, swinging her sword straight through a neck and sending a head spiralling. Cole slammed his back against her, drawing a dagger. She panicked; in their haste, they had forgotten to pick up his sword. A dagger was of little use.
She jerked him to the floor and spun round, slicing his opponent through the chest and kicking it into a nearby suit of armour which clattered to the marble, grabbing its fallen weapon in her free hand and racing up the steps, cutting down foes as she went.
Onyx kept close to her, finishing the ones she downed.
She chanced a look at the others. Wren was backing into a corridor, Hammersmith and the Huntsman behind her. Oakley and Merry had flanked Wistal, and were barking instructions on how to fight creatures immune to pain.
“The kitchens!” Eirwen yelled to Wren. “Go through the kitchens!”
Another wave of shades burst through the doors, cutting them off entirely, a surge of black water splitting apart a dam.
Cole grabbed Eirwen's elbow. “Nowhere to go but up,” he said.
Getting into the castle had been the plan. Confronting the Queen had been the plan. Maybe they could still succeed. Maybe these shades would even do the job for them. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Yet Eirwen could feel any chance of success slipping through their fingers, smoke in the wind.
Cole shot to the floor beside her, letting out a strangled cry. A shade had grabbed his ankle. Eirwen swirled, throwing her axe into its face and grabbing him upright. They screamed down the corridor towards the throne room, reaching it just in time to slam the doors shut behind them. It groaned against the weight of the shades. It would not hold them forever.
A bolt struck the pillar beside Eirwen.
“Get away from my son!”
The Queen shot down from the dais in a gown of crushed green velvet, reloading her crossbow. “I will not ask twice.”
Cole inched towards the space between Eirwen and the loaded crossbow, before freezing. Eirwen tried to ignore the action.
“Step down from the throne,” Eirwen said, raising her sword to Cole’s back. “I will not ask twice.”
Cole raised his hands. The Queen's eyes narrowed. The shades hammered against the door.
Onyx aimed his own bow.
“Shall we see who is fastest, queenie?”
“It is not a matter of who is fastest,” said the Queen, “but who is outnumbered.”
