A hole opened up from the side of the wall to my right, and a thin blade whistled through it, like a long spine ready to skewer me.
I flattened myself to the ground as the long spike pierced the air above me, leaving an indentation in the empty space above my head. A breath eased out of me, as if my whole body released when that deadly spike did, missing impaling me by inches.
But then another click sounded.
I don’t have time.
I leapt up, the pathway before long but boxed in by golden stone walls on either side.
I had no choice but to plunge forward into the darkness, because long spikes flew through the air behind me, embedding themselves into the walls, creating an impossible escape unless I wanted my skin to be ripped off by a thousand thorns piercing my flesh.
If anything blocked my path on the other side, I’d be penned in, but I was more concerned with outrunning the lethal fae trap.
I ran as fast as I could, beating the shooting spikes by seconds as they erupted from the wall behind me. My calves burned and sweat poured from my face, proving with every moment that I really should have prepared more for something like this. Running was not one of my skills.
I neared the end of the corridor, the Golden Vault beyond opening up like a glimmering light.
A few more steps and I would be there, ready to snatch the fae artifact out of the hands of the Citadel and use it to cross the wall. I was so close to bringing life magic back to the human world.
A few more seconds, and I’d be there.
Using every ounce of speed I possessed, I pushed forward, trying to beat the explosion of deadly spires shooting out from the wall behind me.
A long barb slid along the skin of my leg, avoiding impaling me by seconds.
I was in a cage of metal spikes meant to trap an unfortunate thief in an agonizing death.
But I wouldn’t be one of them. Not today.
Instead, I lunged out of the golden death corridor, leaping forward, ready to land at the foot of the Golden Vault.
But I flew into free fall instead.
Chapter 6
It’s more than you three. It’s more than me. It’s the baker who used to fold rotis in the palace courtyard, whose shop is now boarded up. It’s the sprites who used to play in the morning dew, and now the wood is silent. It’s the magic, running through everything, now gone.
It’s all the life. Now gone.
—Letter from Kiyan to his family, unsent
Kiyan
I eyed the pile of rotted wood and dead creatures I’d begun to gather up in the abandoned royal wing of the palace. The smell alone would have attracted Salt soldiers, but with my slight magic, I managed to put a eucalyptus block on the room, which staunched the scent for the time being.
I glanced behind me, checking to make sure I hadn’t been followed to the destroyed royal bedchamber, before shutting the door behind me with a click.
Most of the royal rooms had been destroyed when the Salt Court had invaded—furniture broken, paintings slashed, bedding ripped apart.
Not just due to mindless destruction, but also to search for magical relics that may have been left behind.
Unluckily for them, the royal family had taken them all when they had had escaped to Tirich Mir.
Unluckily for me, that meant we’d had no magical weapons left to use.
Not that they would work against the Viceroy in any case.
My footsteps were soundless as I crept around the room, piecing together my collection of dead things.
