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Barney the minotaur stripped off his armour and pulled on the rough leather waistcoat of the troll guard, taking their place. “Do you think it suits me?” he asked, wrestling into the helmet.
Miriam looked at him blankly, and picked the daisy chain off his horn. “You’ve never looked better.”
Barney chuckled, shouldering his spear, and returned to keep a lookout. Juliana forced herself not to look back at the explosion and check on their team. She had to trust them.
She’d never been very good at that.
The group crept forward under the second gate, sticking to shadows where they could, pressing against walls and under bushes when they couldn’t. A few more Unseelie blocked the way, but each was dispatched as silently as an arrow.
The doors were close. So close.
Just a little more. Just a few more steps, a few more feet—
Something screeched overhead, like the caw of a crow, only louder, more ragged—as if someone had stitched a dozen calls together, torn them up, and shoved roughly back into the body of a bird.
Shadows flickered across the lawns.
Just birds, just birds, just—
“Sluaghs!” someone hissed. “Take cover!”
People hit the floor, diving behind trees, running back towards the gate. Juliana glanced upwards as the flock descended.
Dozens of them.
Too many. Far too many.
Only Miriam and a few others stayed to fight. “Get to the princess!” the knight called.
Juliana looked at the sluaghs, looked at the doors, looked at every obstacle between—and ran.
Sword outstretched, she skidded under one enemy, slicing it across the torso and not stopping to watch it fall. Arrows covered her as she flew over the lawn, feet sliding, lungs breaking.
She didn’t stop. She couldn’t. She was so close—
She vaulted over an ogre in her path and kept up the charge, hoping and praying those behind her were following, that someone would keep them at bay and give her the time to get Serena up the stairs.
She would wake Hawthorn. This would all be over.
A monstrous roar sounded from behind, and a huge chunk of stone raced overhead. For the first time, Juliana froze, unable to gauge its trajectory, to move at all—
A series of vines launched from the side of the castle, catching the stone and circling over her head like a whip, flinging it back towards the sender.
Hawthorn.
A smile slipped out of her.
It was him. She knew it was him. The rest of the vines, sapped dry by Maytree’s sleep, hung limp around the castle. This wasn’t them acting by themselves, this was someone controlling them.
He’d come for her. However angry, however hurt—he’d come when she needed him, his actions speaking of a promise he’d never made and yet she heard nonetheless.
I will always come for you.
She felt the words against her bones, the vow that whatever happened between them, he would be there for her for the rest of her life.
And she would be there for him.
“Juliana!” Miriam hissed. “Go!”
