“No, don’t,” Belanor hissed when Fende took a menacing step toward me. “She’s mine.”
The big faerie stopped. No words came out of that helmet, but his silence felt wrathful, somehow. Gil shifted beside me, grunting, which seemed like a good sign—the holy water was leaving his system. I had to buy him time. So I raised both eyebrows at Fende and said, “You know, I’ve been dying to ask. Why do you hide your face? Are you that ugly?”
“I’m going to skin you alive,” Belanor said. His tone was pleasant again, conversational, as if I’d just offered him a cup of tea.
I felt blood run into my own teeth as I grinned. Hitting him must’ve injured me, too. “Try it. I’ll wear your skin as a cape when I walk out of here, because killing you will be an act of fucking heroism.”
“Oh, Miss Sworn. I honestly can’t decide if I loathe you or admire you, but I think I finally understand what has my dear brother so riled up.” The prince’s eyes gleamed. His head swiveled to the side and he said to Peeks, “Leave us. No, Vulen, Fende, not you—just the runt. Go to the control room and turn off the camera for this cell, Sarwraek.”
Peeks didn’t even glance my way. He obeyed instantly, and the door rushed open. I caught a glimpse of the hallway. Freedom. It was the motivation I needed to turn my thoughts back to survival. Belanor came close again, standing just far enough that I wouldn’t be able to head butt him again. Vulen and Fende stayed where they were, the latter a hulking presence that oozed violence.
Ignoring him, I met Belanor’s gaze and gave him another smile, this one close-lipped and vicious. “You made a mistake, Belanor.”
I deliberately addressed him without any royal title. Taking it as the insult I’d meant it to be, the faerie’s cheeks reddened.
“And what’s that?” he asked. His voice was thick with the threat of what he thought was coming.
Fresh adrenaline coursed through my veins. “Assuming I need to be a Nightmare to kick your pathetic, miserable ass.”
The last word had barely left my mouth when I moved again.
I knew I’d only have one shot at this.
I wrapped my legs around Belanor’s waist and wrenched my entire body as hard as I could. He dropped to the floor, exactly as I’d hoped he would. I didn’t hesitate before stomping on his head, putting every pound of weight and all the strength of a Nightmare into the blow. I felt the crunch of bone at the same moment Belanor screamed. I didn’t look down or let him recover. Blood splattered all over my shoe as I stomped again, letting out a feral scream of my own.
The sounds coming from Belanor’s throat cut short. Besides the ringing in my ears, the room was utterly silent.
Breathing hard, I lifted my head to confront the other faeries in the room. Vulen was gone—I had a vague memory of hearing the door open again while I’d been stomping on Belanor—but Fende was still standing near the wall. It was the first time I’d really looked at him head on. Through two small holes in his helmet, I could see his eyes, and they were black with rage. His huge, mail-covered fists clenched. In that instant, I could see how my death would play out. It was going to be much bloodier than what I’d just done to Belanor’s face.
“Fortuna,” Gil croaked. A helpless sound. He knew what was coming, too. What he didn’t know was that I’d gotten my powers back. With Belanor incapacitated, I was officially getting us out of here, and I’d use Fende to do it.
Oblivious to what was about to hit him, the armored giant stormed toward me.
He hadn’t taken more than three steps when his throat exploded.
More dark blood splattered across the floor. Fende’s body toppled forward, revealing the figure that must’ve come up behind him.
Laurie flashed his impish grin at me. Light shone from the open doorway behind him, illuminating his outline as if he were an angel or a god. Well, if gods wore three-piece suits and their hair was artfully gelled. There was something in Laurie’s fist, long and thin, misshapen and dripping. After another moment, comprehension dawned—it was part of Fende’s spine.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for years,” Laurie said casually. He let the spine roll off his palm and fall onto the floor with a wet sound. After that, he produced a handkerchief and began wiping his hands. “Are you ready, Firecracker? We need to make haste.”
“You’re late,” I rasped.
Laurie glanced down at his unconscious brother. He stepped over him gingerly, his nose wrinkling. “I had hoped to play the part of your knight in shining armor, but as always, Your Majesty, you’ve surprised me. Are you wearing scrubs?”
He started undoing the straps holding me against the wall, and I was so relieved that I didn’t answer, sensing that I might sob instead. It felt like there was one lodged in my throat, just waiting for its chance to escape. As soon as the second cuff opened, I hurried away from the wall. I needed to put distance between me and what had just happened with Belanor.
“And who is this? Should I kill him?”
Rubbing my wrists, I followed Laurie’s gaze to Gil, who I’d completely forgotten about during the last adrenaline-fueled seconds. He still hung against the wall, swaying from the injection of holy water. “Absolutely not,” I said firmly, rushing to him. “This is Gil. He was kidnapped by Belanor, too. Gil, meet Prince Laurelis Dondarte of the Seelie Court. You can trust him—he’s a friend.”
I glanced at Laurie over my shoulder. He looked back at me with a strange expression. I frowned, worried that he was thinking about killing Gil anyway. I got the vampire free of the handcuffs and caught him before he fell. He found his footing, and the weight around my shoulders eased.
“Can you walk?” I asked.
Gil just nodded, and I tried not to seem skeptical. What if the holy water was killing him? He had already been weak from leaving the transition incomplete. All things considered, it was impressive he was even conscious right now.
One thing at a time. Adrenaline was still thrashing through my veins like storm-tossed waves, making my thoughts come fast and hard. First thing, get out of this palace. Second thing, find a Door, like the entrance at the Unseelie Court.
It was another thing I’d learned from Kindreth’s journals—that entrance was a spell, and each one represented a life. The life of the witch that had cast it, however many hundreds of years ago. It was one of the ingredients necessary for such long-lasting magic. The final ingredient? A single thought.
The trick is to expect more, Collith had said in my ear the first time we arrived at that rocky outcropping in the earth. There were hundreds of them all over the planet. When Collith had said there were entries to his Court everywhere, he’d been referring to the Doors. But they didn’t just lead to that faerie den beneath the ground. They could take the user any place in the world, or to the Door closest to it, at least. Why had Collith been so vague about the true nature of the spell?
Because he was Collith, and keeping secrets was his speciality.
I started to ask Laurie about the nearest Door, and where Finn was being kept, but he’d already strode out of the cell. With Gil struggling beside me, I skirted around Belanor and Fende’s bodies. I eyed each one in passing, alert for any movement. Faeries were immortal, with a preternatural healing ability; it was possible one or both of them would recover from this. I wanted to ask Laurie about this, too, but there was an urgency in the air that kept me silent, my grip on Gil too tight.