Page 89 of Crown of Darkness
I press my spine into the stone, trying to make myself as small as I can.
“Come out, come out, little rabbit,” he calls softly, his gaze scanning the courtyard. Every inch of him trembles with suppressed violence, and violent clouds of smoke whirl around him.
Fuck. What am I going to do?
It’s a sound on the edge of consciousness at first. I’m so attuned to the crunch of armored feet on gravel debris that I barely hear it at first.
A rushing, gushing sound.
Halvor stills, as if he senses it at the exact same moment I do. He turns and his eyes go wide.
“Run!” he screams to his men, before he vanishes.
What the—?
And then I realize there are no more detonations. Only an eerie silence filled with the rush of water. Alotof water.
I take his advice.
Sprinting into the courtyard, I snatch a glance to my left.
Water gushes and roars as it races through the streets.The dam. The dam’s blown part of its walls.
And for a second I can’t breathe, before my mind catches up with me.
If I stay here I’ll die.
Fear gives my feet wings. There’s only one path forward. I sprint through streets, waving my arms as I see a group of fae scrambling on top of a roof.
“Go!” I croak. “Run!”
The house won’t be tall enough.
But there are more merchants here, as if they paused in their mad rush. There’s a bucket chain and one old lady holds a bucket in hand, gaping behind me as if she’s just seen the end of her existence glaring down upon her.
These people will die.
They’ll all die.
And I can’t stop it and I can’t run fast enough, and then I skid around a corner coming face-to-face with mayhem.
The Wayfarer’s Oak looms over us, but the streets are a warren here, and they’re a death trap for the hundreds of fae trying to escape.
A little girl stands in the street, crying for her mother as fae trample past her. Screams filter through the air. Incoherent cries. Some people try to reach for others in the swimming mess of fae bodies, but others merely shove them apart as they try to escape.
It’s the little girl that catches my eye.
Alone. Terrified. A blonde plait hanging down her back.
And pounding through my memories is every nightmare I’ve ever had of a baby crying.
Thiago said to get them out. There’s no time for this. No—
I shove through the crowd, darting a look at the shining curtain of water that thunders down the cliffs. It hits the streets, gushing toward us in an ever-churning wave.
It churns into shops, smashing glass, and sweeping tables and chairs along with it. Almost upon us.
One little girl. If I can save one little girl….
