For a moment, Katy wished for the power to throw rocks rather than…whatever her gift was. His smug face would have made a nice target.
For hours they rode that way. Eventually, the wind pushing the animals along became merely a minor annoyance that no longer alarmed Katy every time it changed direction. The blachn root did continue to lessen, but as its control over her fell, the more her powers seemed to gain a mind of their own. And the less she was able to control them. If you’re listening, Atharo, she prayed between deep breaths, help me.
“It’s only going to get worse,” Tearlach called when she finally succeeded in breaking a great tree somewhere to their right. “Your ability to control your strength will shrink more as midnight approaches. You’ll only tire yourself out this way.”
Katy ground her teeth at him. If it was the last thing she did, she would show him what she could and couldn’t do. Instead of continuing her attempted attacks on the cart and the monstrous creatures surrounding her, however, Katy eventually chose to take his advice. She would need all her strength if they were headed to the castle.
And yet, even with all that prayer, they eventually broke through the edge of the forest out onto the moor. And she only knew that because the trees above the cart disappeared and gave way to open sky.
They paused only for Tearlach to hop out and put a gag around Katy’s mouth, then they continued, the cart bumping its way along the edge of the forest until they moved behind the castle. Katy hoped and prayed for someone to see them. Sentries stood on the great wall in the distance, one spaced every few yards around the entire circumference. But just as she was considering how she might jerk out of her bonds or create some sort of movement for the alarm to be sounded, dense fog rolled over the moor. The white cloud was as thick as the sheer sleeves on Katy’s Fae clothes, and the air grew difficult to breathe.
Once it was impossible to see more than ten yards ahead, Tearlach set the cart in motion once again. The animals moved beside them with the wind. Once they reached the city wall, they split in the center and moved along its edges. Somehow, there appeared to be twice as many creatures as when they set out, and the grotesque abnormalities that had marked them before seemed even more accentuated now. Deer with three horns, foxes with multiple rows of teeth that stuck jaggedly out in every direction, and even wolves with mouths the size of bears’ slipped past her into the fog, growling if she looked too directly at them.
A wolverine that was passing to her right looked up just in time to find a long branch of some sort in its mouth. Only when it clamped down at the stick’s center and snapped it in half did Katy realize that the stick had actually been a lance. She turned as best she could to find a friendly face that might sound the alarm. To her chagrin, she found Benjamin instead.
He was standing on the threshold of an open door near the bottom of the wall. The door would not have even been visible had it not been open. Katy’s heart fell as Benjamin beckoned them forward.
“I would appreciate it,” Tearlach growled, “if you didn’t try to kill my army.”
Benjamin stiffened as an oversized rabbit pushed past him. “If that’s what you call it. You’re late.”
“Does it matter?” Tearlach hopped out and began to unlock Katy’s many chains from the cart bed.
“I suppose not.” Benjamin ignored Katy’s muffled cries and gestured at the open door. “But you need to be quick. The prince has been more thorough than I expected. If we want to get her to the platform, I’ll need to create a diversion.”
In the distance, thunder rumbled before evolving into a great roaring, even louder than the sound of the wind that had pushed the animals. Katy strained to see what the awful sound was, but before she could loosen her bonds just enough to push up out of the bottom of the cart, Tearlach reached down and pulled her up as though she weighed nothing. But instead of setting her on her feet, he held her in his arms, and every hope of escape that Katy had was dashed.
As they walked through the door Benjamin held open, she could see shoes sticking out from the corner, someone who was obviously dead or unconscious, but she didn’t get the chance to look closer. Icy fear gripped her as a familiar pungent smell filled her nose. They couldn’t be far from the awful dungeons.
The walls around them groaned. Benjamin stopped and looked around before yelping and staring at his hands and arms. “What in the—”
“Just keep moving. She’s only frightened. The sooner we can get her to the open air, the better.”
“You mean, that’s from her?” Benjamin gave Katy a look far different from the flirtatious glances he had been sending her back at the ball.
As they climbed the stone steps, the power surged within Katy, and she had to focus on allowing the walls around her to remain sturdy and in one piece.
Tearlach glanced at Benjamin and smirked. “So,” he said, “I have to admit that I was rather surprised when you approached me and said you wanted to help. What convinced you to go after the prince himself? I thought you were one of the knights’ special trainees.”
Benjamin paused to peek through another door. After a moment, he opened it and held it for Tearlach and Katy. Once they were on their way up again, he spoke. “The prince in his great wisdom decided I was unfit to be a knight.” Benjamin’s voice was tight. “As he had determined to destroy my future, I decided it would be wiser for me to ruin his.” He didn’t turn but he did shrug. “Counting on the olc seemed like a good bet.” Then he put his finger to his lips and his voice dropped to a whisper. “We’re almost to the first level. Best to be silent now. Most of the staff and courtiers have been hidden in the heart of the castle, but we better not take any chances.”
The halls inside the castle, which Katy had walked a lifetime ago on her way to Peter’s coronation, now seemed colder and more austere than ever. There were no servants scurrying about, and they only spotted one guard. It wasn’t long before they reached the platform upon which Peter had taken his vows.
Katy wanted to see what Tearlach’s diversion had been, but he placed her too close to the wall. Benjamin kept watch, his mouth falling open as he looked down over the platform’s edge. Tearlach ignored the scene below and kept his eyes focused on Katy’s face as he removed her gag.
“I know this is hard,” he said softly. “My manifestation was the worst day of my life, after that of my parents’ death. When it gets to be too much, just keep telling yourself that this, too, will pass. It only happens once. When we finally reach midnight, it will all get better.” He reached up and brushed a lock of hair from her face.
Katy jerked away and glared at him with as much rage as she could muster. She tried again to focus her power on him. But rather than knocking him off his feet, a nearby window shattered instead.
He only shook his head and gave her a sad smile. “It will be better this way. You’ll see one day.”
As he walked away, Katy shouted at his back, “I will never love you!”
He turned and raised his eyebrows at her.
“I will die before I ever call myself yours.” Katy tried to keep her voice from trembling, but it was hard as the pain and power inside her continued to swirl.
He looked for a moment as though he wanted to argue. Finally, he turned and began to walk away. As he did, he called over his shoulder, “Just let it out, Katy. Holding it in will only make it worse.”
55
Toying
Peter strode to the corner of the battlement for the thousandth time that day. Sweat trickled down his forehead and into his eyes, and in frustration, he yanked off his helmet and wiped at it with his glove.
“The helmet has a purpose, you know,” Tomas called mildly from his part of the wall. “It will do you little good if that creature decides to hurl a hailstone at you and your head is as unprotected as a jaybird’s.”
“Yes, Mother,” Peter growled, smashing his helmet back on and regretting it as it made his ears ring. He knew he was being petty, but he wasn’t in the mood to be n
ice. Not only had his uncle refused to allow him to try and intercept Katy and the olc, even with his knights, but the king had also insisted they and the entire city hole up in the castle and wait for the olc to come to them instead. It was a foolhardy plan if Peter had ever heard one, but he wasn’t yet the king. So instead, he contented himself with brooding and stomping about the palace until he nearly lost his mind. It was impossible not to imagine all the awful things the monster might be doing to her. And there was still the problem of his promise.
He paused at the corner once again and flexed his legs and arms. The physician had been less than happy when Peter called up the page and began to put on his armor, but really, he wasn’t sure why the man was so surprised. As if there was any way in the world that he would risk sitting out this battle.
Where were they?
As if answering his unspoken question, thick fog began spilling out from the edges of the forest onto the moor, rolling inward toward the castle as if to swallow it up. And as it did, Peter also felt the distinct presence of her nearby, as well as the sour sensation of the olc.
“Is that it?” one of the sentries called to Peter, his voice warbling as he stared at the oncoming fog.
“That’s it.” Peter tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, trying to discern which direction her magic was emanating from. Briefly, he wished he could use his sword to tell him. Or to help him fight the olc’s powers. Or anything, really. But by now he knew better than to expect any sort of magic from the weapon. Still, he couldn’t help wishing all the same.
“How are we supposed to fight that?”
“We don’t.” Peter studied the ground beneath the wall for any sign of Katy or the olc. “It’s a distraction. He’s toying with us.” Just one more way to keep Peter from finding her. That the olc would use the castle to make his big entrance, Peter had no doubt. She was nearby. He could feel her. But finding her might prove to be the greatest challenge of all.
“How do you know?” The young man couldn’t seem to draw his gaze away from the coming cloud.
“Because,” Peter said, “this man wants blood on his hands. And you don’t get blood with fog.” At least, Peter hoped not. There was always the possibility that the fog was poisonous, or that it was filled with razor-sharp pieces of ice. He shook his head. It wouldn’t do to come up with even more morbid thoughts right now. Better to focus. He needed to focus.
As the fog approached, it became so dark that it was nearly blue. Despite his reassurances to the young man, Peter felt a flutter of fear in his own heart. He tightened his grip on his weapon once more. Now, he thought to Atharo, would be a wonderful time to tell me what to do.
Peter heard nothing that he thought might sound like Atharo, and he still didn’t see Katy, but he did hear the nearly deafening chorus of thunder right above his head. He hit the ground so hard that it jarred all the bones in his body.
“Get down!” he shouted to the young man nearby. But the sentry didn’t duck. Instead, he looked at Peter, panic on his face, just as the first bolt of lightning exploded out of the cloud. And in that moment, Peter knew he would never forget the young man’s expression as the lightning struck him once, then twice. After that, he didn’t move again.
The lightning was only the beginning. Wave after wave of weather rolled through. Hail, just as Antony had predicted, battered Peter’s armor so badly that it was dented all over. Wind slammed him into the wall. Then more lightning, and then rain came so hard and steamy that Peter could hardly see his hand in front of his face.
Between the waves of the onslaught, Peter tried to make his way around the wall to look for Katy. As he searched, he saw that every time one more wave finished passing through, fewer knights and guards stood up at their posts again. Less than an hour after the attack had begun, over a third of his men had fallen. Peter let out an oath. He had warned his uncle. But as always, it seemed for his family, cowardice had won out. And now his men were paying the price.
Between two more rounds of fog and hail, Peter glimpsed something moving below, near the gates. The clouds closed before he could see any identifying details, but he recognized enough of what he saw to know exactly what was coming for them.
“Carey!” Peter frantically looked around for the knight he’d seen last. “The gate!” Carey gave him a strange look before glancing down at the red gates below. Peter watched as alarm filled his face. Carey was off in a heartbeat. Peter turned to the nearest soldier. “Find the rest of the Kingsguard. Tell them to move down to the drawbridge.”
The soldier, hardly more than a boy, nodded and sprinted off down the length of the wall. Peter nodded to Tomas and they ran for the nearest set of stairs.
Peter’s heart sank as he reached the ground level and peeked through the portcullis. Miraculously, the weather that had pelted them since the beginning of the assault began to lift, a setting sun even peeking through the clouds in certain places, sending orange shafts of light through the sky. But as the weather lessened, another force roared toward them.
A sea of deformed animals, much like the ones they had encountered inside the cave, had flooded the city. Some were so grotesquely altered that he hardly recognized what their true form used to be.
“How in the blazes did the gate open?”
Peter turned to find Antony joining them, followed by Domnhall. Like he and Tomas, they were soaked to the bone and their armor was dented and scratched, but they seemed no worse for the wear.
“We can’t tell,” Tomas said as Peter studied the gate once more.
“We need to get out into the city without opening the portcullis,” Peter said. “I don’t want any chance of the animals getting into the castle.”
“How do we do that without drawing attention to ourselves?” Tomas asked.
Domnhall turned to Peter. “Give me five minutes and I can distract them enough to give you time to scale down the wall.”
Peter nodded, not even bothering to ask what the old knight was planning. “Where do you want us?”
In four minutes, Peter and the others were poised on the top of the lower outer wall that stood between the castle and the city, their ropes taut as they awaited the distraction. Domnhall appeared at the top of the lower wall on the other side of the portcullis, but instead of carrying his sword, which was sheathed at his side, he was carrying the carcass of a pig. He dropped it in front of him, yanked out his sword, and began chopping the carcass into pieces. Then, leaning over the side, he dropped the first piece. Animals of all kinds raced to the side of the wall, even those who shouldn’t have eaten meat. As they congregated beneath him, barking and growling and yipping at the meat, he shouted, “Go!”
Peter and the others didn’t hesitate. Scaling down the wall, they were halfway to the ground when a loud metallic scraping screeched even louder than the sounds of the frenzied animals. Peter and the others paused and watched in horror as the portcullis was opened.
“Go! Go! Go!” Peter shouted. He and the other nights began to rappel even faster. Thanks to Domnhall’s distraction, there were fewer animals to greet them at the bottom. Unfortunately, a number of animals had already discovered the open portcullis.
Peter and the others fell into a semicircle, protecting each other’s back as they faced the animals that had noticed and were advancing upon them. Peter disliked hunting in general, for while he knew it was necessary to keep food on the tables of his people and in his castle, he found no pleasure in watching animals die. But he found little to no regret in his heart now as he sliced down the monstrosities that continued to attack. Soon he lost track of the species and number that came roaring at them. Wolverines, wolves, foxes, deer, badgers, even a few large beavers. Soon it no longer mattered what he slashed at with his sword. All he cared about was closing the portcullis.
“Sire!” Antony called over his shoulder. “If we hold them off, can you get the gate closed?”
“I think so!” Peter shouted back.
But when they were finally
almost close enough for Peter make a run for it, the gate began to close on its own. Peter broke into a sprint, but he was too late. He was, however, just in time to catch a glimpse of Benjamin.
“What are you doing?” he shouted into the courtyard.
Benjamin simply gave Peter a glance over his shoulder and disappeared back into the shadows. Peter let out a yell of frustration and banged the hilt of his sword on the portcullis. Not only were they trapped outside the castle, now there were creatures inside with the entire city’s population. He looked up at the top of the wall.
“Dom! Can you get them?”
Dom glanced down into the courtyard. Peter didn’t miss his look of dismay, but the older knight faithfully turned and gave him a tight nod.
“And watch out for Benjamin!” Peter added. “I think he opened the gate.”
Before he could add anymore, he was slammed to the ground. Then as he tried to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him, he was tossed again. He barely managed to lurch sideways to see his attacker before it attacked him a third time. This time, however, he was able to roll on his shoulder and meet the boar head on as it coiled to charge again.
The initial attack had pushed Peter back out into the city, and he searched quickly for the nearest shelter he could find. A little bakery had its front door open, swinging in the wind. Peter dove through the door and whirled around to shut it, but the pig was already there.
The fight would have been easier had the boar’s tusks been of normal length and shape. Not only were these twisted and angled in odd directions, but they were also nearly the length of Peter’s sword. Peter hopped onto the counter to stay out of reach of the tusks, which were being swished back and forth like the swords of a drunken sailor, but he knew he couldn’t stay there for long.
The bakery’s front window lay just behind the pig, and it was open, just enough for Peter to fit through. Peter began to step sideways along the counter toward the window. As soon as he had taken two or three steps, however, the pig caught on to his plan, and Peter barely avoided having his leg gouged as the boar swiped at him even harder. He glanced behind him and saw a bag of flour. Grabbing the scoop, he pulled out a pile of flour and hurled it at the pig’s eyes. The pig squealed but lost its vision just long enough for Peter to run it through with his sword.
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