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In an ideal world, I would have tied the other end of the rope around my torso, but we aren’t living in an ideal world, are we? Evidenced by the fact that my baby is screaming in a dumbwaiter, a monster from another realm is dangling its head over mine, and I’m standing on a gargoyle jutting from an unfavorable height of the palace.
Yes, in an ideal world, I would have tied the rope around my waist.
But in this world, the Other opens its maw, its teeth glistening in the morning light.
So, with all the strength left in me, I grab the rope and jump.
I fall, weightless, but then the rope catches, swinging me back toward the castle wall.
Glass sprays, peppering my legs with cuts as my feet go through the window.
My backside slams against the floor of the palace. Wherever I am in the palace. A quick glance around the room tells me the spare dining hall.
I amble to my feet, thanking the Fates as I do, and run.
There’s no one in the kitchens when I arrive.
There’s no baby in the dumbwaiter, either.
I feel as though I’m going to be sick as I take in my surroundings. Pots left boiling on the stove, aromatic soup bubbling over and sizzling in the fire below. Bowls of egg yolks left out on the counter. Milk dripping from a toppled glass onto the floor.
And no baby in the dumbwaiter.
My heart breaks in half, my mind searching for any way this might be a good thing, when I hear a cry, and it’s the most beautiful sound to reach my ears.
I find them in the pantry, the entire kitchen staff stuffed in there. I have to pound on the door and wait for them to move the sacks of goods they barricaded the door with before they let me in.
But then I find her, my little Cecilia, crying inconsolably in the arms of Collins, the head chef. He’s holding my child at arm’s length like he’s never held a baby in his life.
“Oh, Your Highness.” He breathes in relief when he sees me, partly because I’m alive, partly because he’s clearly ready to hand my baby off to me. “We thought for sure you were dead. We heard the shrieks of that creature coming down through the shaft.” The whole kitchen staff shudders.
“You need to get to the bunkers,” I tell them.
Collins’s eyes go wide. “Surely you can’t expect us to traipse through the hallways with those things on the loose.”
I level a stare at him, tucking my baby into my chest and reveling in her warmth, in her shrieks.
Safe. Cecilia is safe.
“Do you really want to be stuffed into the pantry when that thing gets hungry again?”
Apparently not, because the entire kitchen staff starts to scramble out of the tiny space.
The bunkers aren’t far from the kitchens, so we get to them fairly quickly. It takes me banging on the metal trapdoors and using my status as princess to get the guards to open up for the kitchen staff, something I will certainly not be forgetting if ever I become queen, but eventually everyone makes it down into the dank but roomy bunker.
I search for my husband, but of course he’s not down here. Anxiety rattles my chest when I realize he’s probably out defending the city.
Evander.
I’d seen the determination in his eyes when he decided to train with his magic. I’ve witnessed how intent he’s been on learning how to protect Cecilia and me.
My heart falls through my gut.
Evander has made significant gains in his magic, but these creatures are at another level entirely.
And what they did to the soldiers’ armor…
I’m going to be sick.
