Page 81 of A Tale of Ice and Ash
She lowered her weapon, clicking her fingers. From behind her, crawling out of the walls, shades surrounded her. But they did not go for her. The shades moved straight for Eirwen's group.
“No,” breathed Onyx, “it’s not possible.”
A knight dived in front of their path, cutting down the first of the attackers.
“Run, your highness!”
He was not talking to the Queen, or even Cole. His gaze settled briefly on Eirwen.
“Fool!” hissed the Queen. “What are you doing?”
“She is the rightful queen,” he said. “I will not serve a pretender.”
The Queen screamed, firing her loaded bolt. It bounced off his armour as he swung his sword. The room became thick with bodies, a haze of limbs and steel and black slippery blood underfoot. Eirwen’s skin crawled with it.
They needed to get out. A few more guards had joined the fray, but they were vastly overwhelmed and she wasn’t sure who was fighting for them or just against the shades. Cole wasn’t properly armed. She’d lost sight of Onyx. If they couldn’t fall back soon–
“Eirwen!” a voice screeched from the dark. Eirwen cut down another enemy and glanced a look in the direction of it. A narrow panel had opened up in the side of the wall, and Niamh’s pale, desperate face was peering out of it, her hand outstretched towards them.
Eirwen grabbed the back of Cole’s tunic and dragged him to the side of the room, flinging him into the passage. Niamh pushed Cole on ahead as Eirwen spun round, searching for Onyx. A crawling river of shades divided them.
“Go!” he hissed, backing towards the door, “I’ll find my own way out!”
“Onyx–”
“GO!”
A bolt leapt out of the mass of bodies, sailing over her head. Niamh yanked her backwards. “Come on!”
Eirwen seized the door and yanked it closed, just as another bolt missed her elbow. She locked the door as Niamh slumped against the wall.
“Are you hurt?” Eirwen rushed. It was too dark to see.
“A scratch. Keep moving.”
They stumbled forward in the dark, through the winding passage, the noises of the battle growing dimmer and further away. Eirwen prayed the others were safe, or that Bianca called them off when she realised her son was missing. Maybe she’d take Onyx as a hostage, a willing exchange.
They tumbled out into a corridor, Niamh collapsing on the floor.
“Niamh!”
“It’s… it’s all right.”
Eirwen rolled her onto her back. A bolt was lodged in her middle. All blood, all feeling, all everything drained from Eirwen’s body. She was a kite at sea, wrenched from the hands of a child. Untethered and drifting and utterly lost.
Cole levered Niamh into his arms and shouldered his way into a nearby room, Eirwen trailing behind him, barely conscious of what she was doing. He lay Niamh down on the bed and returned to bar the door. Eirwen’s hands leapt to the wound. Niamh’s stomach pulsed blood. Her clothes were thick with it.
“No, no, Niamhy, no!”
“It’s all right…”
“How… how can you say that?”
Niamh raised a hand to brush her tears. “It’s all right, little princess.”
Cole came back to her side, crouching down on the floor beside her. “Niamh…”
Her second hand flew to his. “You children better play nicely, now.”
