Page 98 of A Slipper in the Smoke
Elena snapped her slippers together, flung them off her feet, and the entire ballroom swamped with smoke.
“This way!” Snowdrop yelled.
“What’s going on—” Pip started.
“Please,” Elena insisted, “Pip, you have to trust me. Your life is in danger. Come with us.”
She couldn’t see his face in the smoke, but she found his hand and seized his fingers. Snowdrop yanked them forward, scuttling through the crowd, diving towards a thin, black space that had opened up in the side of the room.
A servants’ passage. Dandelion and Clover were waiting for them, pressing into their hands weapons that they’d located from somewhere. Elena didn’t ask. She didn’t even refuse the pistol when it was pressed into her hand, though her fingers shook around the grip.
Pip had let go of her hand. Dandelion and Clover had pushed him between the two of them, urging him onwards in the dimly-lit corridor. Elena fought to keep up with them, gathering her dress in both hands as Snowdrop trailed behind her.
A pistol cracked through the air, shooting the plaster from the ceiling. “That was a warning shot,” called a voice. “I shall not miss next time.”
Elena whirled around. Standing at the entrance to the passage was Prince Nero, brandishing a pistol, his expression quietly furious.
He cocked it again, aiming it at Dandelion. “Let go of my friend.”
“We’re trying to save him—” Elena started.
Before she could finish her sentence, Snowdrop hurtled forward, smacking into Nero’s middle and knocking him to the floor. The pistol shot out of reach. Nero grappled with her, trying to push her off him. He grabbed her mask and wrenched it from her face. It shattered to the floor in a cloud of dust.
Nero stopped moving. He stared at Snowdrop, her face twisted with rage. He looked like he had seen a ghost.
“Ivy?” he whispered.
Snowdrop did not answer to that name. She continued to glare at him, teeth bared.
“Snow—” Dandelion started, his own face very white, “don’t kill him.”
For one horrible moment, Elena was sure she hadn’t heard him—or didn’t care either way. She was certain Snowdrop was going to do it, and Elena didn’t want Nero to die. Because somehow, she knew hehadseen her under the bed, and had let her go. He hadn’t shot to kill them just now. He’d called Pip his friend.
And he didn’t like Mira.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Snowdrop stared at the nearby gun, and then back to Nero. He had not yet moved a single muscle. His gaze was still rooted on Snowdrop like she was some kind of mirage.
“Iv—”
“The next time I see you, I’ll kill you,” Snowdrop said, and then punched him unconscious.
She climbed to her feet, shedding loose clothing. Brass buckles and pads clanged to the ground. “Come on,” she said. “We need to get out of here.”
Theyracedthroughtheservants’ passages, Snowdrop now in the lead. She whizzed down the corridors like a rat in a maze, sliding around anyone that got in her way. None of the servants tried to stop her, although a few screamed and gasped.
“Is that—”
“No, it can’t be—”
“She’s dead. We saw her—”
There was no time to stop and wonder what they were talking about. No time to stop and think at all. They sprinted through the kitchens until they came to a store room at the back. Dandelion slammed the door shut behind him, and one of the smaller automatons whizzed out from Snowdrop’s skirt to jam the lock.
“How long do you think we have?” Snowdrop asked, racing towards a chute in the corner.
“Minutes, if we’re lucky,” said Dandelion. “How’re we doing, Clover?”
