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The alarm bells started ringing just after Fey entered the palace, alerting the palace to the fires in the surrounding buildings.
Guards were everywhere, and though Fey tried not to be seen, there was only so much she could do. She held herself straight backed, and walked through the palace with a purpose, with the same haughty air the Queen herself exuded.
“Your Grace!” a guard called after her. “Your Grace, Solare is on fire, get the others! Alert the Blades!”
I intend to, Fey thought, watching him hurrying away.
The palace was waking up around her, people evacuating to the grounds below. Aristocrats and visiting dignitaries from the octants were leaving their plush quarters, arms full of valuables, as they fled outside to safety.
That was good. The fewer people the better.
She prayed to the Goddess that her sisters were still in their quarters. There would be little reason to send the Queen’s Blades to fight the fire, especially if they were pulling as many soldiers from the palace as possible. They’re job was to protect the Queen, protect the palace. They would remain, the final wall of protection around the Crown. Fey prayed they stayed away from the chaos around her, prayed she could find them before Alice did.
She was near enough to their quarters in the Eastern Wing when the tolling alarm bells faltered and stopped. And a new alarm arose.
Fey cursed under her breath and began to run.
This alarm she knew, had trained for. This was no fire alarm.
This was the invasion alarm. The signal that an enemy had gained access to the palace.
She was too late. Alice and her Shifters had arrived.
She had to find them, had to get her sisters. They had to know what was happening, had to surrender. Alice hadn’t told her what would happen if she encountered them, but Fey knew she was singularly focused on her role of getting to the Queen. If anyone tried to stop her—even Lilith. Even Joy…
Fey ran.
Someone was coming down the hallway toward her. Guards.
“Check the rooms. All of them,” a voice snapped from the darkness, and Fey skittered to a stop, heart pounding.
Dameon.
Cursing, she ducked into the closest room, just as their footsteps came around the corner, looking frantically around for a place to hide. There was no time to retreat, no time to find a way past him. And he would recognize her, no matter her mask. Dameon would know exactly who she was.
The room was a poor choice for hiding, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. It was a nearly bare bedroom, nothing as luxurious as the rooms in the Western Wing, most likely nothing more than a place for the guards to sleep between shifts. There was a bed and an armoire, big enough to hide in, but Fey knew any soldier worth anything would think to search it while sweeping the room. It wouldn’t do anything but trap her in here with no escape route.
A noise directly outside in the hallway let Fey know she was out of time and out of options. She flung the armoire door open and ducked inside, closing it behind her, and wincing at the loud click the latch made as it shut.
The armoire was completely empty. Nothing to hide behind, no clothing to put between her and whoever searched the room. No way of fading into the shadows. Fey clenched her teeth together in frustration and froze, listening.
Someone was here.
The door to the hallway creaked as it opened, and someone entered. They moved quietly through the room, but Fey could make out some of their movements. A soft swish of the blankets as they searched beneath the bed. The sound of heavy fabric moving as they opened the curtains. And, finally, the sound of footsteps right outside the armoire.
Let them be an idiot, Fey prayed. Goddess, please, let them be the worst soldier in the history of the Eternal City. Let them leave without checking here.
But it was no use. She heard the click of the handle turn before the door of the armoire opened.
Opened, and revealed a familiar set of soft blue eyes above the black fabric of a Blade’s mask.
Joy’s eyes widened in shock at finding Fey. For a moment, Fey worried she would shout, would bring the guards outside running.
But when Joy spoke, her voice was calm, completely unfazed.
“Clear,” she said loudly to someone in the hallway. She gave Fey a long look and then shut the door.
“Stay here,” Joy whispered through the wood, voice barely audible. “Stay here and stay quiet. I’ll be back soon, sister.”
