Page 199 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
There was no quiet now, no silence. She and her merry band made their way through the streets with their hoods drawn up, blending in with the crowds. From time to time, she looked up and saw Juliana and one of her knights, sliding across the rooftops. It was the best way to the palace if they wanted to remain undetected.
The waterway entrance was unguarded—at least from the outside. Minerva had expected this. The exit was a closely guarded secret, known only by the members of the royal family and a few key members of staff. Venus would not want to draw attention to it by placing a guard there. The entrance was not under the protection of the barrier, and magic could make quick work of it.
That did not mean she’d not guarded it from inside.
Minerva took a deep, steadying breath. She could hear the sounds of battle coming from the palace entrance. The diversion was underway.
She dialled in the code.
The door swung open.
The dwarves descended into the dark. It was the first time in a long while it had been just them, and the group felt unbalanced with only the six—no Fort, no Caer. Dillon was with Juliana and the others at the gate, Aislinn, Beau and Caer with the Rogue team.
Even if they all survived today, she doubted it would ever be just the party again.
No time for sentimentality,a voice reminded her.Just get in.
Bell nudged her arm with her own, more for comfort than anything else, reminding Minerva of everything she had to lose. She quickened her gait, barrelling forward, axe at the ready.
The quietness increased. The sounds of battle grew distant and far away.
Would it be this easy? Maybe Venus hadn’t caught on that this way had already been used for an escape. Maybe she’d forgotten about it herself, or assumed the code had been changed over the years.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.The words thumped around Minerva’s ears like a second, fragile heartbeat.
The steps up to the palace appeared ahead.
Cautiously, Minerva moved up them, metal fingers tracing stone. Strange that the palace should feel all at once familiar and strange to her—hers and not hers, all at the same time.
You are mine, Stone,she whispered, in the same way she imagined the Fae spoke to the forest. She may not be able to bend the rock to her will, but that didn’t make it any less hers—or her any less its. The Stone willed her forwards, and if the spirits had bodies or existed in the slivers of dust, they came with her too.
She pushed open the door, and stepped into the corridor.
No one stopped them. A dull, distant roar sounded from the direction of the gates. The diversion was working.
“Quickly,” she called down to the others. “To the throne room—”
A door opened up ahead of them, and a dozen guards raced out in perfect formation, spears and shields at the ready. Minerva raised her axe for the charge, but before she could strike, another door opened behind, and a dozen more filed out.
Sandwiched. Surrounded. Too many—
“Retreat,” Minerva hissed. “Retreat!”
They started back down the stairs, but Diana let out a cry from the back—another set of guards had blocked off the steps.
No one attacked. No one moved. The guards because they didn’t need to, and the dwarves because it would be a bloodbath.
No.
Minerva’s eyes went everywhere at once, searching for a weak spot, an unguarded corner, a chandelier to be brought down, a distraction to be caused, a person to appeal to—
But there was nothing, and every guard was armoured, faces concealed. Strangers.
She looked at Bell, but for the first time, her eyes gave her no relief, no plan, no way out of this.
Her calloused, brown fingers reached out for her metal ones. Minerva couldn’t feel them, but she clutched onto them all the same, hard and tight as she dared.
“Out fighting, then?”
