Reign of the Fallen (Reign of the Fallen #1)(92)
I drop her hands and stride out of the alley, looking for anything I can use as a weapon. I feel exposed without my sword and can’t rely on Lysander alone—especially if we get separated.
I break into a run, Lysander easily keeping pace with me. Meredy and Danial are already out of sight, no doubt on their way toward the harbor.
“You’re better than a sword anyway,” I tell the grizzly. “Just look for something sharp I can grab as backup, all right?”
He snarls, his eyes glowing a familiar shade of green.
“That’s the spirit,” I mutter, patting his massive shaggy head. “Now let’s go overthrow the king.”
But instead, Lysander stops in his tracks. He growls again, deeper, the bone-chilling sound I’ve come to think of as a warning signal. I follow his glowing eyes up the narrow road leading out of the city and spot what’s filled him with such rage.
A Shade stumbles toward us, scenting the air, a victim half-dangling out of its cavernous mouth.
XXX
The Shade snarls at us as it chokes down the last of its meal, boots and all. There’s no way to tell if it was once King Wylding, but in my mind it was, which makes it more difficult to pick up a jagged piece of wood from the road and take a swing at its skeletal face.
It’s a new Shade, so it’s clumsier than the one that killed Evander, but it’s already grown strong feeding on Grenwyr’s citizens today. It effortlessly dodges my attack, lashing out with a rotting gray arm and grabbing the other end of the wooden beam.
I grip my end of the beam with both hands, but playing tug-of-war with the Shade is like playing against several grown men. Gritting my teeth, I struggle to hang on, my fingernails tearing, until Lysander breaks the Shade’s hold with a swipe of his deadly claws.
“Thanks,” I murmur, reminding myself that it’s really Meredy in there.
As Lysander roars in the Shade’s face, I look around at the empty buildings of Merchant Square, hoping to spot a flicker of flame I can drive the monster toward. But everything is soaked thanks to Hadrien’s weather mage.
I take another hasty look around as the Shade tosses Lysander across the road. The bear groans but staggers upright almost at once.
There’s a fountain at the center of this square. The pretty teal and gold mosaic tiles around it glisten with overflowing water. Since Shades rely on scent to hunt, it shouldn’t be able to find us if we’re submerged. It’ll smell something else in the air and move on.
“Into the fountain!” I shout at Lysander.
The bear turns, bounding toward the fountain with the Shade on his heels.
Bracing myself for the cold, I climb over the edge and take a huge breath before dunking my head underwater. This would never work in the Deadlands, where the water would strip my memories away before I could say Karthia. But maybe here, in the land of the living, my quick thinking could save us.
The cold stings at first, forcing itself up my nose and under my eyelids.
Lysander crashes into the water as the breath I’ve been holding starts to burn.
Howling, the Shade plunges its bony arm into the fountain, and I squirm to keep it from grabbing my leg.
Too late, I realize that the fountain, deep as it is, may not entirely cover Lysander. The bear does his best to flatten himself against the bottom as the Shade hisses and spits, trying to catch a piece of our flesh.
Any moment now, I’m going to have to come up for air. Then we’ll really be in trouble.
Forcing my eyes to stay open in the clear water, I nearly touch noses with Lysander. Lysander’s glowing green eyes hold mine. We don’t have time to waste on this Shade, not with each second meaning Meredy might lose control of her senses.
My head is spinning. My body’s getting lighter.
My lungs are on fire.
Blinking an apology at Lysander, I push myself off the fountain floor and emerge into the brisk afternoon air, gasping and shaking.
The Shade is nowhere to be seen.
“Palace,” I say to Lysander through chattering teeth. “And Meredy, if you can hear me, get out of Lysander’s head. I can manage him on my own from here.”
The bear lumbers out of the fountain after me, growling, his eyes flashing an unearthly green. He slides on the tiles as he shakes himself off, soaking me with a fresh wave of icy water. Then he darts out of Merchant Square, leading the uphill climb to the palace, his glowing green eyes assuring me it’s really Meredy still in control.
I run after him, my clothes clinging to me like a second skin. I pause only once, not for breath but to search the pockets of a fallen guard I dimly recognize from the palace.
Unexpected tears prick my eyes as I slide a dagger from her belt. I wish she had a sword, the weapon I’ve trained with for years, but this will have to do. I squeeze her hand, shuddering as my gaze settles on the spot where a Shade took a bite out of her.
Lysander growls from somewhere up ahead, and I take off running, dagger in hand.
The back entrance to the palace is surprisingly empty. I expected guards with flaming arrows stationed in every nook, at every door and window, yet there’s no one near parading past the sad iron cage. There’s no one standing with a weapon at the ready, taking aim at a soaking wet girl and her bear who look like the sea just spit them out.
Maybe everyone is hiding until this storm blows over, I decide as we navigate the vacant corridors leading to the throne room. If I were one of the Dead, I surely wouldn’t want to be seen by anyone living right now, not knowing how they’d taken Hadrien’s little “demonstration.” Knowing the king I’d followed all my life was gone.