The rumbling calms, but before I can properly right myself, another blast shakes the palace. Aspen pulls me close to keep my feet beneath me. I lean into him, and it’s for more than just support. His closeness reminds me yet again how badly I wish I could erase the moment where Foxglove came in with the letter. If only we could go back to where we were moments before that, enveloped in each other’s arms with tender words on our lips.
But that moment was shattered, and even this slight reprieve is stolen away as the sound from the explosion is replaced with shouts. Screams of terror.
I reluctantly part from Aspen and turn toward the rail along the open wall. Several figures limp away from the site of the most recent explosion. I can’t see much else through the spray of sand and water, but I’m almost certain there are dark patches covering the beach. Blood.
My heart pounds at the sight, echoed by footsteps tearing down the hall and growing nearer with every beat. I can hardly move, can hardly tear my eyes from the scene below as I wait for the rubble to clear.
“Your Majesty.”
I whirl toward the panting guard entering the dining room.
Aspen storms over to him. “What in the name of oak and ivy just happened?”
The guard’s youthful face is pale, eyes wide as he explains, “It was Prince Cobalt’s fae, Your Majesty. They were spotted in the caves, trying to thwart our efforts. I was sent to tell you—”
Aspen brushes past him into the hall. His voice is almost a roar. “I knew he’d be back. Where is he?”
The guard follows hard on the heels of the king, as do Foxglove and I. “The prince hasn’t been spotted,” the guard says, “but the fae were clearly his. They ambushed the detonation team, but your soldiers were able to keep Cobalt’s fae back while they set off the explosion. Only two caves remained uncollapsed at that point, and detonation teams were sent in at once. That’s when I was ordered to come to you.”
Aspen’s jaw shifts back and forth. “I take it from the shouts, there have been casualties.”
The guard goes a shade paler, and we descend a set of stairs. “I was already on my way here when I heard the last two explosions go off, Your Majesty, but the second blast shouldn’t have happened so close to the previous. Not unless...”
“Not unless it were necessary to set it off early,” Aspen says through his teeth. “Have any of Cobalt’s fae emerged from the caves? What about the caves leading to the tunnels in the palace?”
“Those tunnels were the first we collapsed, and I didn’t see any of the prince’s fae make it to the beach before I left.”
Aspen is nearly running as we descend farther and farther down the palace. We must be near the bottom floor.
I quicken my pace and address the guard. “Where will the injured be taken?”
He opens his mouth, but Aspen stops in his tracks, spinning to face me. “Why are you following me? It isn’t safe.”
“I came to help.”
He faces the guard. “Take Miss Fairfield somewhere secure.”
The guard steps toward me, but I freeze him with an icy glare before turning it on Aspen. “No, I’m going to help the injured.”
“You need to remain—”
“I’m going to help the injured,” I repeat, louder, slower, each word pointed as my eyes burn into his. “It’s what I’m trained to do.”
“Fae can heal without your help.”
I raise a brow, eyes roving over his torso before narrowing on the site of his former wound. A wound that would have been the death of him if it hadn’t been for my intervention. I cross my arms over my chest. “Oh, can they?”
He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Fine.” He returns his attention to the guard. “Take her to the east wing. That’s where the injured will be. If you so much as sense a breach in the palace, take Miss Fairfield to safety.”
The guard nods, and I don’t dare argue with the order. Aspen’s eyes find mine as his fingers grasp my palm, giving it a soft squeeze. The gesture says more than his words can, cutting through his temper to soften my heart. I can only enjoy the touch for a single breath before Aspen releases me and starts off down the hall again. As I move to follow him, the guard puts a hand on my shoulder. “This way is faster to get to the east wing.” He nods toward another set of stairs. We take off, but I realize Foxglove has remained on the landing, wringing his hands as he stares at me with an open mouth. Like he wants to say something.
“Foxglove, with me.” Aspen’s voice echoes from down the staircase.
The bespectacled fae closes his mouth and gives me an apologetic smile. I don’t want to read into what it means. But I’m sure it has to do with the letter.
* * *
I steelmyself as I enter a familiar room. Three stone tables are lined up in the center, and upon each lies a writhing fae guard: two male, one female. They’ve each sustained several wounds of varying severity, blood pooling on the tabletops beneath them as uninjured guards assist in removing their bronze armor.
