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Of course we were.
Our manners need work, I thought, and giggled. And wondered if I was going mad.
“One more,” Caleb said, looking at me strangely.
“Yeah, maybe,” I breathed, because suddenly I couldn’t even see the palace anymore.
I stared around through frizzled blond hair, trying to figure out where, exactly, I’d taken a wrong turn, because I couldn’t remember turning at all. But the streets up here were even worse than in the souk, a tangled mess of intersecting passages, like a bandit’s dream, and anything but straight. And the palace, when I saw it at all, didn’t seem to be getting any closer. Like a mirage, it gleamed in glimpses through buildings or at the end of alleys, shining mockingly as we scattered people and dodged lightning bolts and ran over every freaking thing—
And then plunged straight into a mass of guards.
They’d gathered in a small plaza, ahead of the last gate, which two of them appeared to be trying to bring down. But it looked like maybe these inner gates hadn’t been shut in a very long time and weren’t in the best repair, because they appeared to be having trouble. But they clearly didn’t intend that we get any farther. A storm of red lightning tore through the air at us and then burst into a blinding halo just beyond our camels’ noses as Caleb flung up a shield.
It kept us from being fried, but there were too many of them, and that shield wouldn’t last long under this kind of pounding, and it looked like they’d finally gotten the gate moving and—
And screw it.
“Are you crazy?” Caleb said when I stopped trying to hold the half-crazed camels back and gave them a little smack on the butt with the reins instead.
I didn’t answer, because I didn’t have a good one, and because we’d just jumped ahead, hitting a dip in the street and sailing over, knocking several guards to the ground in the process and possibly running over a third. Although I didn’t see how since I was pretty damned sure that both wheels had left the ground. And then we were hitting back down, hard enough to have me biting my cheek half in two as we flew through the last gate, the camels’ noses almost straight out in front of their bodies, and me and Caleb ducking down to where ours were barely visible over the top of the chariot.
And I still felt those wicked spikes, miniature versions of the ones on the main gate outside, brush my curls as we passed.
I didn’t care. I swallowed blood, too busy trying not to fall out on my ass to care about anything else. I didn’t even try to steer anymore; it was virtually impossible at this speed anyway, and besides, the camels seemed to know where they were going. I just held on, the little leg brace on the side of the chariot digging into my thigh, my hands white-knuckled on the front, and Caleb cursing and camels screeching and bells clanging—
And the palace suddenly reappearing in front of us, up a long stretch of hill.
There was yet another gate in front of it, a flimsy-looking thing that seemed more ornamental than anything else, and a couple of white-robed guys with fancy gold belts who looked a lot prettier than the blue-robed fiends behind us. But judging by their expressions, they were also mostly there for looks.
I guess not too many people tried storming Rosier’s palace.
Or if they did, these weren’t the guys to stop them.
They took one disbelieving look at us, out-of-control camels and fleeing people and fiery spells just whaling on us now, as the guards converged into a single long line behind us. And then they jumped to either side as we burst through the gate, with shards of precious wood flying and several planters crashing and a swaying lantern overhead shattering.
And then we were in.
Chapter Seventeen
We didn’t stop. There were more pretty, pretty guards coming down the sweeping front staircase and Caleb’s shield had just given up the ghost. And judging by the pounding it had taken, it wasn’t going back up anytime soon.
So we plowed through the middle of them, camels and all, straight up the stairs, and into a blur of brilliant colors and intricate patterns and gorgeous tile work. Servants in white and gold ringed an atrium with a long pool and fountains, serving a bunch of beautiful people. Who stopped eating long enough to stare at us party crashers in shock, one woman even having a canapé fall out of her lovely mouth.
And then Caleb had me by the hand and we were over the side
of our messed-up vehicle and up another gorgeous set of stairs, not because we knew where we were going, but because the blue-robed guards couldn’t be far behind.
“Which way?” Caleb asked as we burst onto the next floor, and almost got beaned by a guy in a skimpy outfit and a fancy tray.
I don’t think it was on purpose; he looked like the servants downstairs, in flimsy gathered trousers and a gold sash. And once Caleb snatched the tray away from him, he just stood there quivering, his eyes huge. Until Caleb shoved him in the direction of the stairs and he went running, yelling something in a language I didn’t know, but in the universal tone of “oh, shit!”
“Where?” Caleb said again, practically crushing my biceps.
“I don’t know!”
“What do you mean—”
“That’s what Rian was for!”
