“She’s sleepwalking,” an amused voice came from behind me.
Ironclaw looked up. His mouth tightened in the light of a new torch. “Draw.”
Lord Draw came closer, illuminating us in full. “It’s very common for witches and wizards to walk while they’re sleeping, spitting nonsense. All that built-up magic in their heads.” He snapped his fingers in front of my eyes. “Wake up, witch!”
I was fantastically annoyed with Draw for painting me as some kind of idiot, but at least it was a way out. I made my eyes go blurry, then snapped to attention. “Huh?” I asked innocently.
“We should have her chained up at night,” Ironclaw growled.
Anger flared, but as I opened my mouth to rebuttal both of them, a star sailed through the night and landed on the stable roof.
A fire arrow.
Ironclaw raced toward it as Draw grabbed my arm. “This is the part where you and I leave,” he said.
I heard metal clang and chanced a look behind us where Ironclaw had already disappeared. Scattered across the courtyard around the stable were warriors in the Dark Mage’s black. A towering woman swung a war hammer, and I watched as it arced through the air and smashed a man’s head in. She yanked it from his falling body before swinging at another.
Draw shifted his grip to my hand and rushed us into the darkness. The shouts became muted with distance, replaced by our heavy breathing.
“Will they get far inside the castle?” I asked. “Won’t they leave once they have Issa?”
“Turn here.” He shoved me down a corridor, his breath coming hard. “Their numbers must be small to have climbed the cliffsides, otherwise they would have been spotted on the bridges before breaking entry. They’re only here for Lady Issa, correct?” He turned down another hall, this one noticeably stuffy compared to the night air in the courtyard, and shook his head. “Wait, why are you asking me? Don’t you have the witch’s prophecies?”
“Well, yeah, but it wasn’t exactly like she told me all the details.”
“But the final battle’s not now?”
“Yes.”
“The final battle’s here?” he exclaimed. His mouth hung open, his eyes overwhelmed with shock.
“No. Yes, the final battle is not here.”
“Celestial cats,” he swore. “Now is the time to be specific, Lady Mayfair.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Back to the Maidens’ Chamber.”
“Not there.” I kind of envisioned myself in a high tower, able to see what was going on, or hide if necessary.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Draw sneered. “Did you want to go to the queen’s private quarters?”
“If that’s safest...”
He huffed. “We’re here. Get in.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?” A lock of shaggy black hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat.
“You’re a solicitor. You can’t fight.” I dragged him through the doorway by his arm. The wooden door thumped behind us and I felt for the wood bar to slot it in place.
Draw whispered partly to himself, “I really shouldn’t be in here.”
“‘S’what’s going on?” someone murmured. I thought it might be Denise.
“The castle’s under attack,” I said, my voice too loud for the space. It was better that they know though.
