Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)(111)

“Slow down,” I yel ed, stumbling. PC squirmed.

They didn’t slow. They didn’t even pause to let me get my feet under me. I twisted, glancing back at the queen. She watched, looking regal, delicate, and utterly smug.

“Are you holding a Sleagh Maith not of your court against her wil ?” a deep masculine voice asked in the corridor ahead of me. A corridor that had been empty a moment before.

I turned around.

In the center of the hal way stood an unfamiliar fae—

another noble Sleagh Maith, from the look of his almosttoo-handsome-to-look-at features. He had black hair pul ed back tightly behind his head, so I couldn’t see how long it actual y was, and a dark beard that formed a sharp point at his chin and probably saved his jaw from looking too delicate for a man. Behind him, the hal vanished into a large room shrouded in deep shadows. But the shadows were only in a diamond-shaped area around the fae; the ice cavern was visible everywhere else, as if a doorway had been torn open in the center of the hal .

“You.” I couldn’t see the queen, but her voice held al the warmth of a glacier. “You have no business here.”

“I beg to differ.” He made a motion with his hand and a scream crashed through the chil ed cavern.

Two inky black forms surged forward. Wraithlike, in tattered robes with their hair streaming in tangles behind tattered robes with their hair streaming in tangles behind them, the newcomers swung swords that trailed darkness in their wake, as if they leaked shadows. Of course, the wraiths appeared to be little more than animated shadows themselves. The ice guardians released me as they reached for their swords.

The cavern shook with the impact of the guardians and shadows. I clutched PC, stumbling back a step. The clang of swords rang in the air, and I ducked as an ice blade was deflected straight toward me. Not good.

“Alexis, this way,” the man in the rift yel ed.

“No!” The queen’s voice cracked through the hal . “After them, al of you. Detain her.”

I whirled around. The queen’s ice guardians surged forward in force. Even the two that were holding Caleb released him to grab their swords and join the fray. Caleb looked at me, looked at the man in the rift, and then turned and fled in the opposite direction. I didn’t blame him.

More shadow wraiths flew out of the rift to hold off the fresh assault of ice guardians, but the ice guardians weren’t the only ones coming. Falin darted forward, parrying blows from the wraiths.

“Alexis, hurry,” the stranger said, holding out a hand. He was definitely no white knight here to save me, not with al his oiled black armor that nearly blended in with the shadows around him, but he was definitely rescue of some sort.

A sword passed through the air inches from my chest—

and PC. The white crest of hair on the top of his head fluttered and he trembled. I have to get out of here. I glanced at the fae stil extending his hand toward me. Wel , the winter court was a bust for the accomplice and Hol y anyway. Maybe I’d have better luck elsewhere. And maybe I can manage not to piss off the ruling regent.

Tucking PC under one arm, I gathered the skirt of my gown with the other hand, hiking it up to my knees, and then I ran for the rip. The man reached for me. I dropped my skirt I ran for the rip. The man reached for me. I dropped my skirt and grabbed his hand just as someone grabbed my arm.

The stranger hauled me forward, up and through the tear.

The ice cavern vanished; the hand on my arm didn’t.

I stumbled into an enormous anteroom fil ed with giant gothic arches and spiraling columns. And Falin fol owed.

The fae who’d pul ed me through turned, leveling a sword that reflected no light, as if it were crafted of pure shadows.

He swung at Falin, who jumped backward. Falin lifted two daggers long enough to be short swords.

I stepped between them, my back to Falin. His hands immediately closed on my arms, the flat of his blades pressing against my bare skin.

“Don’t hurt him.”

The stranger cocked his head. Then he turned toward the rift. “Now, boy,” he yel ed, and a robed figure I hadn’t noticed standing to one edge of the tear stepped forward.

The figure was the size of a child, but that didn’t mean anything, as fae ranged in size from very, very smal to enormous. He thrust his hands into the space on either end of the tear and seemed to grab the hole at the very edges. I stared, amazed, as he tugged the rip, closing it. The shadow court’s planebender? The tear was less than a foot wide when an ice guardian reached it. The guardian dove for the opening, his sword leading, pointed directly at the planebender.

“Down!” my rescuer yel ed, charging forward.

The planebender hit the ground as a dark sword swung over his head, parrying the guardian’s blow. The stranger grabbed the ice wrist and shoved, trying to force the arm back through the opening while avoiding the frozen blade.

The planebender rose to a crouch and grabbed the edges of the tear again. I could feel the magic—not Aetheric energy but a magic that felt both foreign and extremely familiar. He tugged, forcing the tear around the guardian’s arm.

“Knight,” the queen’s voice said, cutting into the room

“Knight,” the queen’s voice said, cutting into the room through the stil partial y open rift. Falin cringed behind me.

Crap. “Knight, capture the planeweaver and—”