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I watch her metallic blue-lacquered fingertip trail down to a swath of parks and ponds before settling on the tall obelisk on the map titled, Washington Monument.
A golden bubble of magic surrounds the obelisk. I stare longingly at the shield that keeps darklings out.
Once we reach that point, we’ll be safe.
Unfortunately, we have miles between us and safety, and hundreds of red dots swarm the streets in between.
Screw you and the centaur you rode in on, Spring Prince.
Gulping noises draw my focus to Ruby. She’s sitting above us on the copper light fixture, legs dangling, in the process of emptying a crystal decanter of some dark purple liquid.
“Ruby!” I scold, using my mom-voice. “Bad!”
Crap, why did I let her come?
She finishes off the bottle, belches, and throws me an innocent look. “What? You saw the map. We’re all going to die; I’m just making sure I die in my happy place.”
Asher growls under his breath, glaring at Ruby. “Why is she here again?”
All dragons have a deep hatred of sprites. Supposedly, during the last war when dragons were nearly eradicated, the sprites were the ones who carried out the poisoning with dragonsbane.
Rubbing my temples, I desperately study the map for a plan. We don’t have enough time to go around the clusters of darklings to reach our goal.
If only Asher and Valerian could both fly us out of here, but . . . no. Our Keepers can’t use any of their powers, including shifting.
Nor can they help us plan in any way, which would be super helpful right now.
No! You can do this without their help. Think. I tap my finger against the churning mass of darklings on the projected map.
“Too bad we can’t go under the city somehow,” I murmur. “If only . . . wait.” I study the tangled meshwork of streets as my pulse quickens. “I thought all major Fae cities have emergency tunnels in case of a surprise darkling attack? If true, the wards that repel darklings could still be intact.”
Valerian runs a finger over the sharp edge of his jaw. “You’re right. Emergency tunnels were constructed beneath the residential areas for a quick evacuation, but they typically lead to a large, centrally-located portal. That portal could be anywhere.”
“Okay,” I press, “so where is this one?”
Mack fiddles with the device, and then another image flashes over the counter. The map is still shown, but the tunnels are superimposed in faint blue. They crisscross the parts of the city where the houses are concentrated and then merge into one thick blue line that leads to . . .
I blow out a disappointed breath. The tunnels end beneath the Lincoln Memorial. Technically, the distance between the memorial and the safe zone surrounding the Washington Monument isn’t that terribly far—we could run it in ten minutes—but it’s teeming with so many darklings that the area is a giant ball of red.
“They’re probably attracted to the remnants of the old portal’s magic,” Asher explains, his voice softening as he takes in Mack’s frustration.
“Dang-it.” Gritting her teeth, Mack glares at the map, as if she can somehow force it to show us what we need. “It was a good idea, Summer. But with that many darklings . . .”
Frowning, I once again scour the maze of streets between here and the safe zone, each one lit up with darklings. If we try to run directly there aboveground, that leaves miles and miles of ground to cover.
All out in the open, unprotected.
And every second outside this apartment will draw more darklings to our Keepers.
My gut says we wouldn’t make it halfway before the darklings overwhelmed us or we ran out of time.
“We could go for one of the weapons,” I add, thinking aloud. “Just in case of emergency but . . . if we have to use it, I worry the magic would only draw more darklings to us . . .” My heart skips a beat as an idea slaps me across the face. “Draw them to us,” I repeat.
Mack arches an eyebrow.
“We need to move that giant herd of darklings near the portal, right?” Excitement makes me talk fast, and I force myself to slow down and think this through. “What if we used one of the weapons to draw them away?”
Mack’s eyes slowly light up. “We activate the weapon, draw the darklings obstructing the path to something—maybe the water in the reflecting pool?—and sprint to the safe zone while they’re still fixated on the weapon’s magic.”
