Sandy Williams - The Shadow Reader

Evan scratches at his beard. “That just leaves our faces.”

“There’s nothing we can do about them,” Naito says.

“Masks and hoods will draw too much attention.”

“So what do we do when someone sees us?” I ask.

“We kill them.”

I must make some type of disgruntled noise because Naito looks at me. “If we can escape without killing anyone, we will. But if we don’t have a choice—” He shrugs.

I might be turning my back on the Court, but that doesn’t mean I want anyone to die.

Anyone else to die. My gaze slides to the bloodstain on the floor, then to the glowing blue torch in the wall above it. I walk over and take it out of its holder.

“We’ll carry these. If we keep the orbs in front of our faces, the fae might not see our chaos lusters.”

“The light will draw attention,” Naito says.

“So will the edarratae ,” I say, unwilling to back down on this. No more fae are going to die because of my decisions.

“We can’t see in the dark,” Evan puts in. “McKenzie, you carry it since you know the way. Naito and I will stay behind you. We’ll take care of anyone who looks at us too closely.”

Naito doesn’t argue this time. Good. We’ve already lingered longer than we should.

Lord Raen waits for us by the exit.

“Kyol will know what you’ve done,” I tell him.

He nods, his expression unchanging. “But he won’t be able to do anything about it, will he? Not without admitting who he was hiding here.”

And if the king or his lord general finds out Kyol didn’t execute either shadow-reader, he’ll be screwed. I don’t want him to get in trouble for this. Radath will be pissed enough when he learns I’m gone.

I adjust my grip on the torch. “Will you tell him I’m sorry?”

Lord Raen gives me a grim smile. “If you’ll tell Kelia the same.”

“Let’s go,” Naito mutters behind me.

Raen steps aside. “Quickly. To the left.”

Naito slides past us and exits without so much as a glance at the fae. Evan whispers a quick thank-you. I follow on their heels.

“Naito,” Lord Raen calls.

Surprisingly, Naito stops.

“If Kelia’s in Lynn Valley,” Raen says, “take her away from there. Please. The lord general intends to attack at tomorrow’s dusk.”

Lynn Valley. Oh, God, that’s where I’d been. That’s where the rebels are, or were just a day and a half ago.

“But that’s in my world,” I say.

Raen’s lips tighten. “The king is that desperate.”

Desperate enough to launch an attack in a residential area? I don’t want to believe it, but one look at Naito tells me I should.

THE CORRIDORS OF the basement are blessedly deserted. I lead Naito and Evan through the narrow tunnels, hoping I can get us out of here quickly. Both times I traveled to the storage room I came from the other direction. I would have turned right outside the door if Raen hadn’t told us to go left. I can only assume this way is safer, that the fae guard took the other way out.

My torch lights the way, its glow bathing the stone walls in its blue-white light. I listen for footsteps, for the rustle of cloth, the creak of jaedric armor, or a soft inhalation of air. Anything to indicate someone’s approaching. I hear nothing, nothing but the sound of my heart thudding in my chest and the occasional shuffles of Naito and Evan.

Despite the cool air beneath the palace, sweat dampens my forehead. I’m worried about Aren, about Kelia and Sethan, and—maybe just a tiny bit—about Lena. I need them all to be okay.

Another corridor, still no sign of the fae. This escape attempt is going eerily well, a fact that makes my skin tingle with apprehension as I lead us up a set of stairs. They curve sharply to the right. I can’t see anything around the bend.

I slow almost to a stop as I near the turn. God, I don’t like this. It’s too easy, too quiet.

“What’s wrong?” Naito whispers.

I shake my head to indicate nothing, force my paranoia aside, and round the curve.

No one’s there. A gate is at the top of the steps, though. I hurry the rest of the way, praying it isn’t locked.

It is.

“Let me try.” Naito slides past me, taking from his pocket the ring of keys he confiscated from the unconscious guard. I wince when they clatter and scrape against the metal lock. Naito’s trying to be quiet, but with the corridor so silent . . .

“Got it.” He pushes the gate open. Its screech echoes off the stone walls.

Evan curses behind us.

“Wait here,” I whisper. I’m barely able to squeeze through the narrow crack without opening the gate farther. I scan the empty corridor. I’m about to tell Naito and Evan it’s clear when a fae steps into the passageway no more than twenty feet to my left. The blue-white glow from my torch highlights his face. It’s Taber. Shit.

“Hi, Taber,” I say, stepping toward him.

“McKenzie?” He frowns at the open gate. “What are you doing here?”

Think, McKenzie. Think!

“Kyol gave me keys.”

Taber scans me slowly, head to toe. “Your robe doesn’t fit.”

I look down. “No . . . but it’s, um, warm.”

He cocks his head. “Perhaps I should escort you back to your room?”

“That would be great, actually.” I move toward him, praying he’ll turn around and walk with me, but his frown vanishes. He moves past me, shoving my arm aside when I try to block his path.

A second before he reaches the gate, Naito and Evan burst out. Naito rams his shoulder into Taber’s chest, throwing the fae backward. Evan grabs his arms, holds him down while Naito grabs Taber’s head and slams it once . . . twice . . . three times into the stone floor.

Taber lies still.

Naito stands, wiping the fae’s blood off on his pants. Evan is slower getting to his feet—I think he’s weak from sitting in that tiny prison—but neither human holds my attention for long.

“What’s wrong?” Naito asks. “He’ll be fine once a healer sees to him.”

I start backing away, pointing the orbed end of my torch toward the three fae running toward us.

Evan turns, curses. He unslings his crossbow from his shoulder, arms it with an arrow, then sights the weapon down the corridor.

“Run!” he orders as the bolt thrum s from the bow. It strikes the leg of the fae in the center.

Evan nocks another arrow. The other two fae take cover in an alcove, pulling their injured comrade with them and calling out an alarm.

I chuck my torch aside—no need to hide our edarratae anymore—and run.

“Come on!” Naito yells.

Evan abandons his attack and follows. We fly past a set of stairs.

“There’s an exit,” I shout at Naito, who’s edged in front of me. “Ahead and to the right.” It’ll get us out of the palace. If we can make it into the city, we might have a chance.

Fae rush into the far end of the corridor. We skid to a halt, lose precious seconds as we all seem to realize at once they’ll cut us off before we make it to the intersection.

Naito shoves me the other way. The two uninjured fae emerge from their alcove at the corridor’s other end, sandwiching us in.

Evan shoots off another arrow. Misses.

Naito draws his sword. “Up!”

I lunge for the staircase, fly up the steps two at a time with Evan and Naito on my heels.

We’re going to have to hide, not run. I try the handle of the wooden door in front of me. Locked. I rush to the next one while Naito tries the doors on the left side of the hall.

Evan fires down the stairs.