by RJ Metcalf
Clara shook her head. “Sapphire—”
Sapphire raised her hand, eyes flashing. “You promised. Protect Adeline.”
Clara frowned, her eyebrows drawn together but she nodded. “Be careful.”
Sapphire marched to the door, hand on her sword hilt. She lifted the blade an inch and let it drop back in the scabbard, as if to confirm it was loose and ready. She opened the door, and the noise of chaos within the palace invaded the room. She slipped out, the sound of her moving masked by the terrifying sounds of battle that cut off abruptly when she closed the door behind her.
The room felt lonely and empty with only the crackling fire to break the silence. Garnet looked at Zak. “How do we reach your secret passage?”
Lady Sapphire had called him a Guardian. He would be brave like one. Zak straightened. “We need to get to the library.”
Garnet nodded and stood, clutching the princess to her. Clara slung the bag she had packed around her body, hand on her sword. They looked at each other grimly before looking back to him.
“Follow me.” Clara pointed to Lady Sapphire’s bedroom. She pushed against a large wooden chest of drawers with one hand, and Garnet also threw in her weight to shift the heavy furniture. It slid aside, the wood protesting against the floor with a muted shriek.
Garnet dipped gracefully to her knees, settling Adeline on her hip. Her fingers traced the floorboard until the wall opened in front of her.
Surprise rooted Zak in place. There was another passage? Where did this one lead?
She glanced back and smiled with weary amusement at Zak’s dumbfounded expression. “Surely you didn’t think the secret passageway from the citadel to here was the only one?” She turned her head to sneeze, then stood, her eyes watering. “Coincidentally, this is an escape route that leads to the same wing as the library.”
Stepping into the tunnel, Garnet turned to gesture for him to follow. He stepped in with her, Clara bringing up the rear. The door swung shut behind them, swallowing them in darkness.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Brandon
Brandon paced the stretch of black tile in the throne room, his heart beating a steady rhythm of fear that sang in his veins. They had given their orders to General Brigley less than an hour earlier, and now the four royalty and their few assistants waited for news. No one wanted to break the tense spell of silence.
But it was going to shatter eventually, and that knowledge filled him with a terror reminiscent to when he’d been to Selvage for negotiations and it’d all gone to shehalla.
General Brigley burst through the doorway and into the throne room, hand on his hilt, his expression dark and dangerous. “Everyone get up and move.” He gestured curtly to the thrones, long strides bringing him alongside Brandon. Brigley grabbed Brandon’s arm and continued forward, momentum dragging Brandon with him. Brandon stumbled a few steps until he righted himself, keeping pace with the general until Brigley let him go.
Richard was already on his feet. “What’s going on?” he snapped, stalking forward as Rupert and Victoria also stood, his mother clutching her skirt.
“The gates were opened from inside. They have a new explosive weapon. We’re being invaded. You need to get out of here. Now.” Guards streamed into the room, the sound of their armor jostling and banging filling the momentarily shocked silence at General Brigley’s announcement.
Brandon stopped running alongside Brigley, gazing up, as if he could see through the ceiling to where his wife and daughter were. Had Zane found more guards to protect the women? Brandon hesitated, watching the hulking general herding his parents behind the thrones, the secret passage in the wall starting to open.
Brigley looked up, glaring. “Stop thinking and start moving!” he bellowed at Brandon before noticing Richard standing still as well. He shook a hand at Richard, gesturing. “You too, Highness!”
King Rupert continued into the passageway, but Queen Victoria stopped to look back at her son. She seemed to almost age in front of Brandon as she looked at him. She shook her head, holding out her hand. Brandon hesitated.
Richard turned to face him. Gray eyes met blue, and Brandon could almost see the wheels turning in his brother’s mind. Richard nodded, and Brandon turned to sprint out of the throne room, Richard following on his heels. He ignored Brigley and his mother yelling for them not to run to their deaths.
How could he live with himself, if the mob got to Sapphire and Adeline? He had to be certain they were safe.
The bright lights of the dining hall greeted them, six guards standing at the ready by the door. The soldiers gaped at Brandon and Richard as they skidded out of the throne room, Andre and Richard’s aide, Louis, both slipping out to join them just before Richard turned to slam the doors shut. Richard looked at Brandon.
“I assume you have a plan?” Richard asked, his fingers dancing across his sword hilt in anticipation.
Brandon nodded, listening as the distant sounds of battle came closer, yells, clanging and thudding ricocheting and echoing off the walls. He had to distract the mob away from his family. “Get to Sapphire and the girls. If anyone tries to stop me, kill him.” He looked to Andre. “Find them, protect them. I’ll follow in a moment.”
Andre’s eyebrows shot up. “And leave you here?”
“I’ll follow in a moment,” Brandon snapped. “Protect them first!”
His bodyguard hesitated before saluting and running down the hall. Brandon watched Andre’s back for a long heartbeat, wishing he could follow right this instant. He turned away, looking at the nearest guard.
“I assume your orders are to stay here, and guard the door as if we were still in there?”
A bulky guard stepped forward, hand thumping his chest in salute, deep-set eyes somber. “Yes sir. Please, run and hide, we cannot protect you adequately here.”
“I understand.” Brandon nodded as he looked to Richard. “Are you with me?”
A door banged open, interrupting Richard. Zane sprinted toward them. He skidded to a stop, breathing hard as he looked between Richard and Brandon. “What the blazing Void are you doing here?” The red in his face deepened. “Where is Andre? We need to get you two out of here!”
“Andre’s going to find the girls,” Brandon replied testily. “We need to give them time to escape.”
Zane’s eyes bulged. “And yourself!”
The floor rumbled underfoot and paintings vibrated along the walls. Brandon saw through an open door into the dining hall as a door burst open and as many as maybe twenty unarmored-but-armed men raced through the room, shouting. The ground shook as they drew near.
Zane swore, reaching back to yank at a throwing knife. He didn’t hesitate to let it fly. He grabbed a second and let it go. Two men dropped an instant later, one with a knife in his chest, the other a knife in his face.
The mob flowed around the fallen two in a manner that reminded Brandon of water flowing around a rock. Nothing would stop them. Except death.
Brandon responded to the ringing of swords being drawn from Richard and the guards by drawing his own. Zane drew one of his short swords with one hand and used the other to fling another small knife which embedded itself in its target.
The victim fell a moment later, reducing the mob to maybe fifteen before they crashed upon Brandon’s group.
Brandon allowed himself to be pushed back into the midst of the guards as they surged forward in defense of their princes. He struck at a man who jumped at him, his sword opening the assailant from hip to shoulder. Brandon didn’t stay still to watch him fall. A sword slashed toward his face. He pivoted away, narrowly missing the strike. He moved to the side, warily watching the brute ahead of him, dimly aware of Zane moving to fill in and protect his exposed back.
Brandon darted forward, surprising his tall opponent with his boldness. The giant glared at him and brought his sword straight down. Brandon whipped his blade up to defend and staggered under the power of the swing. He braced his feet, the soles skidding sl
owly on the tile floor. He put every ounce of strength into pushing the crossguard to force their blades vertical. He shoved as hard as he could, springing backwards and sideways while simultaneously striking down on the huge man’s wrist. The brute’s sword clattered to the ground, severed hand falling beside it.
The man bellowed and lowered his hand as if he was going to ram Brandon. Brandon snarled and lunged forward, decapitating the brute.
He took quick stock of their situation, and despair trickled down his back in cold sweat. Louis and three guards were down, leaving only six of them against what he could only roughly count as ten. A sword swung toward Richard, and Brandon’s shout lodged in his throat.
Slate stood there, back pressed against Richard’s. When had Slate gotten here? Brandon’s heart squeezed. If Slate and Zane were both here, who was with his family? Eyes narrowed in fury, Slate kicked out at the would-be murderer. The man stumbled back a step, just long enough for Slate to reach out with his sword and run the man through.
Feeling marginally better about the ratio but even more concerned for his wife and family, Brandon hacked at the rioter next to him. He saw Zane run through a group of men, dual swords out, and then men falling, clutching their slashed stomachs in agony.
Time ceased to have meaning for Brandon as they fought against the horde of men. He focused solely on what was in front of him, trusting his comrades to defend his back as he defended theirs. Marble underfoot soon became slick with blood and gore, forcing him to step with caution while moving as fluidly as possible in battle.
The sudden silence when the last man fell stunned him.
What chill had been in the palace air that morning was now long gone. Brandon swiped at the sweat on his forehead and grimaced at his blood-soaked jacket sleeves. He peeled it off and let it fall beside the bodies. Zane wiped his twin blades dispassionately on the unbloodied pant leg of a corpse.
Slate gripped his sword, trembling. Eyes wide, he took in the carnage around them. His nostrils flared. Brandon watched as Slate followed Zane’s example, bending forward woodenly and wiping his blade on the relatively clean shirt of a nearby body.
A thundering roar reverberated down the hall from the direction of Brandon’s parents’ room. Everyone tensed. Brandon shifted closer to his brother. “Are you injured?”
Richard leaned against the wall, gripping his sword, anger dancing in his eyes. He shook his head, gray eyes flicking to Brandon for a moment before he looked at the open dining door. “I’m fine. Going to find our parents.” Richard leaned away from the wall, long strides taking him through the doorway, bloody footprints leaving a clear trail for them to follow. He disappeared around the corner.
“He’s going to get himself killed, going alone like that!” Zane exclaimed, his voice harsh with concern. He hastily wiped his throwing knives clean of blood before sheathing them and jogging after Richard. “We have to follow him.”
Slate and Brandon took off after Zane, three guards taking up the rear. They passed a hallway and Slate stopped. “Sapphire?”
Brandon’s head whipped around. He hollered for Zane to come back as he watched none other than his beloved wife running up to them, emerald skirt chained up and cheeks flushed and eyes wide. Her eyes narrowed as she got close enough to take in their bloody appearance and the carnage beyond. Brandon sheathed his sword as he watched her, and the three guards passed him, following Richard. She visibly swallowed and reached out to grip Brandon’s shoulder as she turned to Zane.
“Zane. Get to the citadel. Now.” Her tone was urgent, low, and brooking no argument. She held up an unbloodied hand to forestall Brandon’s outburst, her gaze still on Zane. “Zak’s here. He overheard men in a passageway. This is a diversion. Their goal is the barrier.” Her grip tightened on Brandon as she looked between him, Zane, and a very pale Slate. “Zak’s taking them through his passage. We’ll meet at the Crimson Hawk. Barrier first, though.”
“The Monomi will not let the barrier fall,” Zane declared, alarm ringing in his voice.
Brandon squeezed Sapphire to his chest while looking at Zane over her red curls. “Go to the citadel. We’ll hold them off here as best we can. Do your duty.”
Zane nodded and sheathed his sword, bowing deeply to Sapphire. “Thank you for finding us. Now get out of here.”
Sapphire pulled in a deep breath and nodded. “I will. And Zane, use the secret passage. Zak said it’s in the library, the gem for opening it is under a lamp near the back of the library. Possibly the left lamp. It’ll be quicker and safer.” She reached out to grip Zane’s arm. “You be safe.” Red marks remained on his arm from her fingers when she let go.
“As best I can,” Zane replied with a fleeting grin. The gravity of the situation made Zane’s eyes look like pools of darkness. “Don’t die.” He pounded his hand to his chest in salute and sprinted down the hall silently, a black blur of danger to invaders. He disappeared into a side room.
Brandon tore his attention away from his best friend’s back to look at Sapphire. She lifted her face to him, fear, concern, and determination all shining in her eyes. He hugged her to him, taking a selfish moment to wish that this was all a horrible nightmare.
“You need to get out of here,” he whispered, the desire to stay by his wife’s side ripping him in two with his need to chase after his brother and parents. Maybe she could—
“It’s the prince! Kill him!” The shout arose from down the hall.
They wanted him. Good. Better him than Sapphire. Brandon yanked his sword free and pushed Sapphire down the opposite hall. He grabbed Slate’s shoulder and all but threw him into her. “Go! Slate, protect her!”
Slate nodded without protest, arm around his sister, pulling her with him down the hall. Brandon looked back at the three men running headlong towards him, praying desperately that the invaders would follow him and not his wife and brother-in-law. Sapphire shot him a scolding look.
“Hey! You want to kill me? Come get me!” He taunted before turning and running the direction that Richard had gone. The men followed until they reached the hallway that Slate and Sapphire had been in. There the men paused, one grinning wickedly, mouth moving in unheard words to the others. One shook his head. The grinning man followed after Slate and Sapphire, his friend with him. The other came towards Brandon.
Whales of the Void!
Growling deep in his throat, Brandon turned to face the man sprinting towards him. Brandon charged to meet him, their swords meeting with a loud crash. He swung, the invader parried. His opponent elbowed him, and Brandon grunted. The invader lunged forward, and Brandon blocked, sidestepped, and cut through his enemy’s torso.
He felt a pull in his gut to follow Slate and Sapphire, but he could hear the shouts and rumbles of more foes from the direction the first group came from. He would have to trust in Slate’s ability. He turned to run up the stairs to follow Richard.
Fear gripped Brandon as he reached the top of the stairs. If they were after the royal family, would any enemies be lying in wait for his parents when they arrived? He raced around the corner to face their gilded doors. He skidded, horror icing the blood in his veins.
Richard had beaten him there and was now surrounded by men in front of the doors, dead guards and rioters strewn around his feet. Richard back-kicked one man in the knee while slashing the waist of the man directly ahead of him. Both went down. He ducked to avoid a sword slash and stabbed backwards into the chest of the man he’d kicked. Richard pulled himself up and sprang away from the three men still surrounding him.
Not fast enough. He wasn’t able to escape the blade that sliced through his neck.
Brandon wasn’t aware he was screaming until the men turned to face him in surprise. He slashed at the first man’s face, and rammed his sword into the chest of the second man, blood and gore spraying into the air. His sword stuck fast, forcing Brandon to jump away from the dead man to avoid a strike to his side from someone behind him. His fingers scrambled on the floor for Richard
’s sword. He grabbed it and exchanged blows with the third and final man, feeling sadistic glee when the man fell back from the strike. He’d bleed to death from that gut wound.
Brandon didn’t look back to see his brother’s mutilated body as he pushed open the doors, praying that by some miracle his parents were alive. The doors opened barely a hand's width before something hindered them from opening further. Brandon looked down, alarmed to see a puddle of red to the left. He threw his body against the door, slipping into the room when it opened enough for him to squeeze inside.
Grief multiplied in that moment. Bodies of guards and invaders scattered on the floor to his left like the confetti on the ground after his wedding. General Brigley had fallen next to them, face still paling in death, multiple wounds over him testifying to his steadfast determination despite all odds.
King Rupert and Queen Victoria lay on the floor just beyond the general. At least, what he could see of them did. Black scorched the wall next to their mangled bodies, and the air reeked of something sharp and acidic. A nearby couch smoldered.
No one in the room breathed.
Despair brought Brandon to his knees on the cold marble as he stared at the carnage around him. How had this happened? Who had opened the gate and let them in? How could they have prevented this?
Brandon scrubbed his eyes with his inner wrist. Where was his family? Slate was going to take Sapphire to the Crimson Hawk. Clara had Adeline, and he could only presume Garnet and Zak as well. He had to get to them.
He staggered to his feet and looked to the side of the marble floor, thinking of Sapphire’s message for Zane. No, he had to get to the citadel first. He had to make sure the keystone stayed safe. Or this would be the beginning of something even worse.