Page 21 of Promise of Darkness
“You’re safe,” he promises.
I hold out my trembling hands. The black veins are vanishing before my eyes. The pain subsides to a dull roar.
I think I’m going to be sick. “All over your boots,” I think I say. I’m not sure. The world is spinning again.
“Get that portal activated!” the prince bellows. His voice lowers, just for me. “I’ll forgive you my boots. Just this once.”
I blink blearily against his chest. Everything hurts. My brain throbs, and my eyes ache as if I haven’t slept in two weeks.
Several fae start chanting, and the stones light up again.
The magic rushes through me like a million ants skittering over my skin. Then the prince is staggering forward through the gush of light and power, his boots finding solid ground on the other side.
When the light finally dies, I manage to lift my head from his shoulder. We stand in a second Hallow, the stones cold and gray and lifeless again, as if the magic has been sucked from them. They’ll need at least an hour to recharge, but for now, nobody will be able to follow us.
“It’s clear,” a hard voice says, and apparently, we’re still in my nightmares, for it’s Eris. She keeps a hand on her sword as she sweeps the circle of stones until she’s satisfied. The others must have stayed behind to find the assassin.
Beyond the stones stretches a labyrinthine city—or the ruins of one. We’re on a hill in the direct center, where an ancient palace still stands, draped in snowy skirts.
City of the Dead, it is.
They say Valerian was the jewel of the north once, and as I stare upwards, I see it. The palace takes my breath away. It’s carved completely of white marble that gleams beneath the soft wash of moonlight like alabaster—or bone. Graceful arches beckon and lithe bridges arch into nowhere, their ends sheared off.
It would have been beautiful when it was whole. A palace built to grace the near-constant night that exists so far north.
But the war with the Unseelie ravaged its soul and stole a piece of its heart. As my eyes see past its immediate beauty, I notice the blank holes where windows once stood. They look like soulless pits watching the night. Thorns of the night-blooming Sorrow plant grow up its towers, but no blooms open to the moon.
“There’s no one here except my servants,” the prince murmurs, as if he’s realized where I’m looking. “We’ll be alone. It’s safe.”
Alone.
With the enemy.
“I see.” I don’t consider that safe at all. “And do I get my own rooms, or a tower cell?”
“We could just throw you off the top,” Eris mutters under her breath.
“Considering she just saved my life, I consider that rather ungracious,” the prince replies, shooting her a sharp look.
“I can stand,” I tell him, pushing at his restraining arm.
His arms tighten around me. “You can also fall flat on your face, but let’s not take the chance. Eris, make sure our way is clear.”
She shoots me an expressionless glance, then strides down the hill, her hips swinging and her hand never leaving the hilt of her sword. “As you wish, my prince.”
And then the bastard carries me all the way to the ruins of the palace.
6
The prince eases both doors to his bedchamber shut and leans against them with a sleepy look in his eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I just took a knife for you,” I point out, wobbling a little, though I’ll be damned if I show it. Surviving my mother’s court gives me a good grounding to face him like this. It doesn’t matter how much blood you’ve lost, you don’t dare faint in front of my mother or her people.
Especially not when I’m standing in front of the monstrous bed he just set me down in front of.
“And I’m grateful, but shouting a warning would have been just as effective.” His eyes hood, and thankfully he stays by the doors.
“I’ll consider that next time.” Along with simply standing aside and letting the assassin complete their task.
