Page 140 of The Shadowed Oracle
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” She hopped back onto the platform to kneel at Callinora’s side. The princess didn’t appear to have sustained any more injuries, but it was difficult to tell, considering. Those burns were still glowing with dark power, keeping her from speaking or gaining any awareness of her surroundings.
“How about her?” Dean asked. He was gripping the princess’s arm already, lifting her until the chains could fit over the top of the destroyed pillar.
“I can’t tell.” Ingrid cupped Callinora’s cheek, pleading silently for her to wake up, to say something.
She didn’t.
“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out later. I’ll carry her.” Dean lifted her onto his shoulder, then, barking terse orders, rallied everyone to him, even Veston, who’d appeared to have only suffered an injury to his ribs in the blow from Haxus. Together, they pushed the platform as close to the arena wall as possible.
“We’ll need to make the jump,” Ingrid said, looking to Veston. “Can you manage it?”
The general looked to his abdomen, then to the crowd, wincing slightly. Fights had broken out, and many of the common folk had migrated from their top-level seats down to the first row, dangling their arms over the wall like prisoners through metal bars. Some made gestures to the Queen. Some shouted threats and insults. But all had the same vengeful glint in their eyes.
“I’ll have to,” Veston said.
“Single-file.” Dean began waving them forward. “Ingrid, stick to the middle.”
One after the other, they climbed into the grandstands and cut through hordes of civilians. The exit wasn’t far but was made all the more difficult with Occian soldiers rushing from the gates to flood the arena’s seats, coming from every direction, armed, and already loosing arrows into the crowd.
All at once, the people of the Isles pivoted. The flaring tempers turned to cold horror. The fight became too close for comfort, and their own Queen’s Guard were treating them like expendable fodder.
“Stay low!” Dean threw what limbs he had use of to drive anyone too close to Ingrid back.
And Raidinn, he looked like some hell-sent demon with his arms covered in blood, cutting down soldiers and violent civilians alike.
“Anyone have eyes on Enitha!? Arryn!?” he shouted.
“I do!”
Planted in the very center just behind Dean, Ingrid was afforded the luxury of monitoring the situation on the other side of the arena. Enitha had finally deigned to come down from her protected shelter. Surrounded by her guards, she and her husband were walking in a straight line across the ichor and rain-soaked arena floor, never breaking their disdainful glare away from Ingrid and her team.
“Did it work?” Dean called out, his breath heavy, tiring fast with the weight of Callinora on his shoulders.
“I don’t know! I think so!”
“You think?”
“Yes, damnit! I think. Her hand is up, like on the docks, but nothing is happening.” No smoke. Nothing.
Ingrid took a breath of relief as the spell-crafting queen tried and tried—and failed, shaking violently with each futile attempt—to conjure that black magic from her palms.
“It worked!” Ingrid yelled out. “Lucilla was right!”
“Right about what?” Tyla asked, like the words might be buried inside her if she didn’t get them out. “Anyone want to clue me in?”
“Me too!” Raidinn added. “What is happening?!”
“We snuck something in her drink.”
Lucilla’s knowledge wasn’t limited to the strict seating arrangement. She’d given Ingrid a full list of routines. Including the fact that Enitha always drank her weight in wine on the day of the games. Making it easy to slip something into it—something like the Quirell weed she’d read about in Callinora’s mother’s journal, which Dean had plenty of, both on the ship and on his person as he walked into Enitha’s court. He hadn’t had an opportunity to covertly sneak it into the queen’s drink, or Arryn’s, but Lucilla, trusted Lucilla, the meek and dutiful lady’s maid, had plenty.
“And Arryn?” Dean called out.
“Doesn’t seem any different,” Ingrid said exasperatedly, trying to recall how much of his wine the new king drank. “Still at Enitha’s side. Maybe it wasn’t enough?”
“And you’re sure—” Dean was cut off by a single Occian soldier popping up from the mess of the crowd, but Raidinn ran his sword through his back before he could do any harm. “You’re sure Lucilla used everything from the ship!? Every bit?!”
