“Cillian has just been so focused on finding a queen for years,” Wolfe said. “I don’t think he wants to make the hard decisions, decisions that could mean life and death for our people. And I’m worried he truly thinks if we get a queen, the attacks will just stop and the castle’s magic will be fixed. I’m worried that’s his only plan. We need to be out there, finding our attackers, doing research. Defending our home. But that would require sacrifice.”
I stopped, unthreading our arms and turning to stare at Wolfe in horror. “You want to go to war?” I asked, thinking about the war that had wrecked Bergenay.
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “No, but I also don’t want to sit here and keep waiting for attack after attack to come. For more people to die... or get taken.”
The frustration in Wolfe’s voice took me aback. He was normally so cold, so reserved, so distant, but right now, his voice was filled with an anguish I hadn’t heard before. I reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it, not knowing why he needed to be comforted but just knowing that he did. He stiffened but didn’t pull away.
Victory. I might break those walls yet.
“Well, if I become queen, that’s what I’ll focus on.” I gave him a soft smile. “I might even make you my captain of the guard.”
His lips twitched in that characteristic way that I knew meant he wanted to smile, and he looked down at my small hand covering his, suddenly snatching his away. My cheeks heated. So much for that.
“Sorry,” I said, but before I could finish apologizing, buzzing filled the air.
Bzzzzz.
Wolfe’s head snapped in the direction of the sound, and my gaze followed his to see an army of yellow-striped bugs with translucent wings scattered in the sky, emitting some kind of red smoke from their pointed tails. Magic. Dark magic.
The royal guard flooded the streets.
“Go to your homes, your businesses,” Wolfe yelled. “Lock your doors, your windows. Board them up. Do not breathe in that smoke.”
The smoke covered the sky in a thick haze, settling lower and lower. Soon it would be upon the entire city.
“What does the smoke do?” Wolfe muttered, watching it crest the rooftops of buildings.
“It poisons you,” I said, voice shaking as I smelled the ashy scent, as my stomach grew queasy. “Once you breathe enough of it in, you start feeling nauseous, then you can’t eat anything, then you throw up everything you have eaten, and then you start feeling so weak you can’t move.”
Wolfe gestured for me to follow him, and we walked past people rushing to their homes, doors slamming, windows closing, blinds being yanked down. I wondered if Wolfe was taking me back to the castle.
I’d sat by my father’s bed after he’d gotten poisoned while fighting against the wasps.
Wolfe drew out his sword like he might stab one of the wasps if it came too close.
“The brotherhood used it on us.” I glanced at the smoke, pulse spiking as it lowered farther. “When they first attacked and we managed to fight them back. My father was injured but recovered.”
He swore under his breath. “How did you defeat them?”
I hadn’t done anything but hide with Princess Ashami, but she’d told me how they fought off the wasps in the end. “Fire,” I said. “They don’t like fire.”
Wolfe nodded and turned to me, grabbing my shoulders. “I’ve got to get Cillian. Find somewhere to hide. Get yourself to safety. You can do this.” He bounded off in the other direction, and I trembled as Iwatched him, watched the smoke get lower and lower while people still fled in all directions and I was completely frozen.
Screams echoed throughout the streets, and that ashy scent permeated everything, tinged with a foul odor, one that reminded me of death. Maybe I could knock on someone’s door and they’d let me in. The dress shop wasn’t far. I could go there, though I thought of Ceri’s anxious father and wasn’t actually sure he’d open the door for anyone.
I could run for the castle, but the front doors were much farther than any of these businesses, and I didn’t know if Barty or Tal would let me in since they were usually too busy arguing to notice anyone else. I twisted my hands in indecision. I just needed to move. I just needed to make my feet go one in front of the other, yet I couldn’t, and my chest tightened and my breathing became labored while door after door around me slammed shut.
A wailing sound pierced my ears, and I looked over to see a small child all alone while everyone else ran for cover.
Where was his mother or father?
I raced to him and crouched down, trying to keep my voice calm as the smoke got lower, the buzzing louder. I blinked, seeing Ashami’s face, hearing her voice amidst the tinny sound.
Your father has been injured, Niamh.
The boy’s wail brought me back, and I shook my head, pushing down my rising panic, ignoring the way my chest burned. By now the streets were almost completely empty, doors shut and locked, wasps ever closer. We were running out of time to get somewhere safe.
If he saw I was panicked, then he would only panic more. He couldn’t have been older than four, and tears streaked his cheeks.
