Greydusk sighed. “Zet was Caim’s son.”
“So while he appreciated the promotion, he also bore a grudge.”
And so Caim has the last laugh, after all. Cunning bastard.
“But he’s clever for a Hazo,” Greydusk went on. “From what I can gather, he allied with Oz and they planned a two-pronged attack—”
“So that while I defended the city, I’d lose the castle.”
“Yes. I’m sorry, my queen.”
Pain suffused me. “By which you mean, we can’t win.”
“The entire Hazo caste has aligned with the Saremon, and they held their best mages. The ones who went to Vortex were…expendable.”
“Is there more bad news?”
“The Eshur and the Obsir have chosen. Your return created too much chaos. They seem to believe the Saremon are the best chance at restoring order. The Dohan, too, have turned.”
I nodded, battling complete despair. “What of the other castes?”
“They are loyal, my queen, but they are not strong enough to stand against the might arrayed against them. They will hide until the battle ends.”
That’s it, then.
I turned my exhausted mind toward an exit strategy. “Is the portal room still functional?”
“I believe so,” Greydusk replied.
At least I had that much luck remaining. I wished I’d paid more attention to Chance when he was talking about how his luck could affect me. It had seemed like such an unlikely consequence of loving him.
“Then that’s where we go. Long ago, I had them built in the event of another civil war. We’ll retreat to my mountain fortress and consider our next move.”
“It will be a difficult run, my queen. The castle is embattled and no route will be safe. We will encounter heavy resistance.”
“There’s no choice.” I held Greydusk’s look and saw he knew this. “If you have any magick in reserve, I can cast, if you’re willing to link with me.”
“Certainly, my queen.”
I took his hand and opened the channel. His strength made mine seem puny for the first time. I’d burned through all my resources. Fortunately he had been more conservative and I took him to half before breaking the connection. At least I no longer felt like passing out.
“I could kill you.” Chance seized my shoulders and kissed me with all the pent-up rage and fear I’d thrust upon him by going out alone. I wrapped myself around him and fell into his desire.
When I broke away, I said, “I’m so sorry I scared you.”
My apology made him cant his head. “Corine…?”
Not surprisingly, he could tell who was ascendant. Ninlil never apologized for doing what she felt she must.
“Mostly, I think.”
Something flickered in his tiger’s eyes. “Is she…all right?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t know how I felt, realizing he was worried about the demon who had stolen half my brain. I mean, I knew they’d been together, sometimes without me—and I had seen most of it without being able to influence events—but this was—whatever. I put it aside for later contemplation.
Shannon yanked on his arm. “No offense, but this isn’t the time to chat with your girlfriend.”
“She’s right. This way.” Greydusk picked a path across the corpse-strewn stones. “There isn’t much time.”
“We have to fight to our quarters. I’m not leaving my mother’s grimoires. Or my dog.”
“I thought you’d say that.” Chance patted his backpack.
Then I noticed Shannon was already wearing hers. And incongruously, Greydusk carried my purse. Butch popped his head out.
“How?” I asked as we ran.
The Imaron explained. “When the wards went down, I suspected betrayal. I knew we had to be ready to move when you returned, so I ran to your rooms and gathered your things.”
“Since then, we’ve been holding that tower, waiting for you to get back.” Shannon pointed at the far end of the courtyard.
“We couldn’t defend the palace,” Chance added with the salt of regret.
“But you saved me. Thank you.”
Shannon laughed. She seemed happier than she’d been since she walked into the throne room that first time. “I thought Chance would climb out of his skin. Greydusk had to physically restrain him. He wanted to go look for you after the wards went down.”
“We’re going to talk about that,” Chance said tightly.
With the protective imperative in place, it must have nearly driven him insane. “I couldn’t take you with me…and I thought you’d be safe here.”
“The Hazo have established a base in the throne room.” Greydusk cut in. “I’m sure they mean to come root us out of the tower, once they secure the rest of the castle. The Saremon patrol the halls, and there are more Xaraz all over.”
“What about the Eshur?”
Greydusk reminded me, “They don’t fight, but the Obsir are present.”
“Their enforcers.” I nodded to show I was with him, but I didn’t feel as I had. The roles of various castes were murky in my head, and at the moment I didn’t give a rat’s ass about the fall of my kingdom. All the magick she’d channeled had burned the queen out. At the least, she’d gone comatose, leaving me more…myself.
Unfortunately, Ninlil was the expert here. Not me. It was a blessing that Greydusk remained at my side, as he knew the palace like the back of his hand. The demon skirted the front entrance, instead leading us along the side. We’d try one of the postern doors in the hope it would prove less heavily guarded.
Outside the door lay more bodies, servants in my livery who had been trying to flee. I’d told them to take shelter inside, where they would be safe. My misplaced confidence had ended in so many deaths. The horror overwhelmed me for a moment and stole my breath.
“I can try a cloaking spell,” I said softly. “But it will draw most of the power you loaned me. Do you think I should save it for combat?” I glanced at Shannon and Chance, inviting them to consider the question too.
“Save it,” Chance finally said.
Greydusk nodded. “We’ll have to fight, and there’s no guarantee that the spell will work. They may have set up motion-detecting runes inside the perimeter.”
“Shan?”
“Dude, I have no idea. But I’ve got this cool sword and Grey was nice enough to spar with me to keep me sharp. So, y’know.” She flashed a grin, almost as if she enjoyed the insanity that surrounded us.
Well, it was a pretty cool sword. I smiled as the demon tried the postern door. Locked. I had strength enough to handle that. Using the spell I’d perfected in the Saremon stronghold, I sent a jolt of magick into the lock mechanism, which snicked open. Greydusk stepped inside first. The palace smelled of charred flesh and burning fibers. They hadn’t spared the servants they found. Misery deluged me.
I promised safety and I failed them. That sad whisper came from Ninlil, huddled in the back of my head, but she didn’t push. Didn’t try to take over. I was grateful for small mercies.
“Shoes off,” the demon instructed.
My boots would ring out on the tiles; they had been designed to make me sound imposing. That ran counter to our aims now. As much as possible, we needed to run undetected. There was no way to avoid fighting entirely, but it made sense to conserve our resources as much as possible. When I pulled off my boots, Chance and Shannon did the same. Greydusk wore no footwear, so soon we were good to go.
“Which way?” Part of me knew, but Ninlil was silent and distant, lost to despair. She had never failed like this before.
Neither had I—on this scale—but I was used to life kicking me in the teeth. My personal soundtrack could be that Chumbawamba song. The chorus rang in my head as I followed Greydusk, who answered by moving forward. Shannon and Chance fell in behind me. I tried to glean more about this mountain fortress, but the Ninlil half of my brain wasn’t talking. It’s probably crumbled to dust and infested with monsters. This silent taunt drew no response.