Chapter 18

NICOLE WAS LIGHT for a New Gargoyle, seemingly with none of my muscled density. She probably had about three inches on me, and by the way her form-fitting clothes looked, she was toned but slim. Runner, I guessed, as my mind processed about a dozen things at once.

There was some unavoidable noise as she scrambled through the skylight. I jumped back just as guards entered the room below, but I didn’t have time to get the skylight back into place. They’d notice it any second.

“C’mon,” I said to Nicole and then carefully ran across the roof to the end where I’d come up.

No easy way to climb down, with the drainpipe laying on the ground below.

“Hang off the edge to shorten the drop,” I said hurriedly. “Watch what I do.”

I swung my body off the roof, hanging briefly with my fingers curled over the edge of the gutter, and then let go. It was a fall that would have likely injured a human, but I landed in a crouch and then sprang up, ready to steady Nicole.

She sailed to the dirt and landed hard, touching down with both hands to catch herself, but thankfully she hadn’t seemed to injure anything. Probably her latent New Garg blood that gave her bones extra strength. We ran for the cover of the forest, but by the shouts behind us, we’d been seen.

I zagged through the trees with Nicole on my heels, heading away from the bunkhouse. Suddenly something solid and very tall loomed ahead. A wall.

“Oh, damn,” I ground out. I hadn’t realized the palace grounds were walled on this side. I could already hear guards crashing through the forest to the left, cutting off the route back to the doorway I’d used to come here. “Okay, new plan.”

I veered to the right. The doorway I’d come in through was way too far away. We were going to have to head back toward the palace. Keeping to the forest, we crashed through the brush. We were loud, but the guards were louder. I scanned the area ahead and picked the darkest point along the palace wall to aim for and then hoped to Oberon we’d find an unlocked door to slip through. Even clomping along behind us as they were, the guards would be able to tell which way we’d gone by the footprints and broken twigs we left behind.

Nicole seemed to have little trouble keeping up with me. Maybe I’d guessed right about the running.

We were close enough to the palace that I could see there was one door in the most shadowed area. Panting, I grasped the thumb-lever handle, squeezed it, and yanked back. It didn’t budge. I forced more weight on the lever, but it stubbornly refused to release. Nicole continued on, looking for another way in.

“What about this?” Nicole asked. She pointed at a large grated vent about two feet square.

The guards would clear the tree line in a matter of seconds.

I knelt down in front of the metal grate, stuck my fingers through the lattice, and yanked back. Warm air blew across my face as the vent cover sprang from its frame.

“Get in,” I said, keeping the grate in one hand.

She ducked inside, and I tucked in after her, pulling the grate back in place. After making sure it was secure, I shouldered past her to try to look into the vent tunnel, but it was pitch black.

“Let’s go a little deeper, and then I’ll get us some light,” I whispered.

The shouts of the men outside had grown loud. They were passing right by where we’d escaped into the vent.

Moving in a crouch, I kept one hand lightly trailing the wall as I walked two dozen paces into almost complete darkness.

“Stay there,” I said. “I need a little space.”

I moved a few more steps away and then knelt on one knee so I had enough room to draw Mort. I pulled power and sent it into the sword to mingle with the blood magic it contained. A faint purple flame wrapped around the blade, giving us a bit of illumination.

Nicole was staring at Mort, blinking rapidly as if trying to be sure of what she saw. She sent a dazed look past me, peering deeper into the tunnel.

“Smells like the lint trap in my dryer,” she said faintly.

She was right.

“Laundry,” I said. “Good. We need to make it to the laundry room.”

We continued, turning left to follow the tunnel.

“Why did you say you were my sister back there?” Nicole’s whispered words floated up to me.

“Supposedly I am,” I said. “That’s one of the reasons I was picked to come get you.”

“Who sent you?”

“My father—our father—Oliver Maguire.”

“You said ‘supposedly.’ If you don’t believe I’m your sister, why did you come for me?” she asked.

I glanced back at her over my shoulder for a second, but she was hunched over with her eyes on the ground.

“I do believe it,” I said, realizing that it hadn’t seemed real before, but now it did. “It was just kind of a shock, is all.”

“I don’t believe it,” she said bluntly, her tone harder than before.

I snorted a rueful laugh. “I don’t blame you.”

“I’m not a Fae.”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” I said.

The air grew warmer and more fragrant with the scent of clean laundry. The sheet metal under our feet was rumbling with the vibrations of machines nearby. We were moving past smaller inlets into the main venting artery, each of them blowing hot air against our legs as we passed.

I stopped and released my magic and angled my body so I could sheath Mort. There was light up ahead, enough to see by. The tunnel let out through a downward chute. We’d reached the end of the line.

I lay down on my stomach and peered over the edge. About three feet of conduit straight down and another grate below. Basement laundry facility. There were voices, but not many. Unfortunately, the grate was out of reach, so I couldn’t try to pry it up. It looked as if it was affixed to the outer lip, anyway, which would have made it impossible to pull it inward.

Directly under the grate, there was a table with stacks of folded linens. At least we’d have a soft landing.

I waited until the room below was quiet, then shifted so my legs were dangling over the edge, and pushed off. Keeping my knees stiff and my body straight, I busted out the grate and landed on top of it and the laundry below. I scrambled in the linens as the piles toppled over, trying to scan the entire room and keep from falling uncontrollably. I rolled off the edge of the table and landed on my feet in a defensive stance, Mort already in my hand.

There was a woman across the room, standing at a rack with a steamer in one hand, but her back was turned, and she hadn’t heard my descent over the loud hum of machinery. I looked up into the conduit to see Nicole’s face peering down at me. I beckoned her to come down, and a split second later the grate, which rested on a precariously tipping pile of towels, began to shift. My eyes popped wide as I dove for it, but I was too late. The heavy metal lattice slid off the other edge of the table and clattered to the floor—not loudly, but with enough noise to draw attention.

The woman at the steamer stiffened and spun around, and I ducked down behind the counter. The area below the countertop was all cabinetry, so I couldn’t see through to track her position. Footsteps approached, and then they stopped.

“What . . .” I heard her murmur, probably as she took in the upset piles of linens.

Some movement above caught my eye. Nicole was coming down. In the whooshing air of the duct, she probably hadn’t heard the noise the grate had made. I signaled frantically, but she was positioned feet-down, ready to drop.

“Hey, Clara, can you come and help me clean up this—” the laundry woman started to holler but cut off with a squeak as Nicole dropped from above and landed on the counter.

I popped up to my feet, and the woman squeaked again, her eyes going wide and her fingers flying to her mouth.

“Party game,” I said with a bright smile. Realizing I was still brandishing Mort, I lowered my sword to my side. “We’re playing hide-and-seek.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed.

Nicole jumped down to the floor, and I grabbed her wrist.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” I muttered.

Pulling Nicole along, I skirted the counter, hurried past the woman, and ran for the doorway. It led to an adjoining room with more dryers and folding counters. Half a dozen workers were busy at their tasks. A few noticed us and paused in surprise. I stopped short. There were more doorways that appeared to lead to more laundry rooms.

“See an exit?” I asked Nicole.

She pointed. “There?”

A door was swinging open, and a man pushing a cart full of white sheets was halfway into the room.

I ran for the door, yanked his cart from his hands and out of the way, and burst past him and out into the corridor.

“Petra, guards!” Nicole said behind me.

I swung my gaze to the right. There were two men barreling at us.

“Guess we go this way,” I said, sprinting to the left.

As we ran, I realized I knew where we were—not far from the guest quarters—and a new plan came to life in my mind. If we could get back to my room, we might be able to disappear into one of the secret channels I’d discovered in the walls. We’d just have to elude the guards long enough to reach a doorway and get out of the Duergar realm.

Going from memory, I took Nicole up a flight of stairs and through the turns that would lead us to the courtyard below the rooms assigned to the New Gargoyle visiting party. We were running hard, and we outpaced the lumbering, armored men chasing us. Just as we took the final left turn leading to a short hallway that opened into the courtyard, a broad-shouldered figure with a short sword at his side stepped into our way ahead. I skidded to a halt, ready to backpedal, but then realized I knew who it was.

“Petra?” called the man with the ever-casual voice.

Knowing I couldn’t go back the way we’d come, I jogged up to him.

“Jasper, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I need to get out of here,” I said, speaking rapidly. “Periclase was holding this woman against her will. She’s a New Gargoyle changeling.”

His gold eyes flicked to Nicole and then behind us as the sounds of our pursuers grew louder.

I knew it was fruitless—I was asking him to defy his own father and sovereign—but at that point I wasn’t above begging.

“Please, let us go, and I will owe you,” I said quietly and urgently. “This I swear.”

Something in the air seemed to crystalize as a potential oath hung between us.

He hesitated only a second. “Okay.” Then he turned. “Come with me.”

I barely noticed the faint tingle of magic in the air that formed a binding oath between us.

Jasper led us across the dim courtyard on a diagonal, but instead of taking us to another corridor, he stopped before a large willow tree. Reaching several inches above his head, he slammed the side of his fist on a knot in the wood where it looked like a branch had been cut off long ago. A section of bark popped away at the base of the tree. He reached down to lift it, revealing a hatch.

“Straight down and then straight ahead,” he said hurriedly. “It empties out on the road you came in on with your party.”

“Thank you,” I breathed, and with those two words, I further sealed the favor I owed him.

I ducked under the panel and dropped down into the dark hole, not knowing how far the fall was. I thumped down awkwardly and rolled out of the way just as Nicole landed with a grunt. Drawing Mort and using magic to light the way, I ran into the narrow tunnel carved into the dirt. It was barely wider than my shoulders, and small pale roots snaked into the space from the hard-packed walls and ceiling.

My sister pounded along right behind me, until it seemed as if the tunnel would go on forever. But eventually it began to slope upward. We reached the end, with barely enough room for me to stand without hitting my head. Directly above there was a two-foot diameter hole in the dirt with a flat, rocky surface covering it. I tipped Mort against the wall and then reached up, flattened my palms, and pushed. It didn’t budge. Bracing my feet more solidly, I tried again. Still no movement. Taking a different tack, I fitted my fingers into shallow grooves and slid it instead. The slab of rock moved aside, and the night breeze washed over my face as I looked up into a canopy of tree branches and the starry sky beyond.