39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Iwas curled up on the freezing floor of the washroom when my eyelids finally forced themselves open.
Lantern-light pulsed against my vision in hurried flashes, as if warning me of something. I winced as the brightness drove a needle of pain through my skull, followed by a phantom vibration humming deep in my ears.
My hand braced against the stone as I pushed myself upright. The crystalline shriek of shattering glass split the small space. Shards of mirror lay scattered around me, one biting deep into the meat of my palm.
I stared at the crimson welling in the cut, a strange numbness settling over me before I flicked the bloodied shard to the floor.
I rose on legs that felt like water, picking my way through the wreckage of the mirror. Shards littered the stone like fallen ice, each step forcing me to move carefully as thin crescents of glass scraped beneath my feet.
A smear of blood trailed across my palm where the shard had bitten deep, but the pain felt distant beneath the pounding in my skull.
The sleeping chamber waited beyond the doorway, dim and silent.
My gaze fell immediately to the bed.
Talon’s side was empty. The pillow lay undisturbed, the blankets barely shifted, as though he had risen hours ago—or had never returned at all. A tight unease settled low in my chest.
I moved toward the narrow window, drawn by the faint gray light creeping through it, hoping the view beyond the glass might offer some answer as to where he had gone.
Before I could reach it, a heavy thud rattled the walls.
Another followed.
Then the unmistakable roar of a stampede.
I scrambled toward the arched doorway, my fingers fumbling to knot the belt of my tunic.
My skin was a map of sweat and glass, the fabric clinging to me, stained with small blossoms of my own blood. There was no time to scrub away the grime. If the High Court had breached the border, I would not meet them hiding in the washroom.
I melted into the corridor shadows, the bioluminescent glow of the walls catching the edges of my vision, when two figures stepped from a side passage.
Their silver armor caught the living light, the crests of frozen flame upon their chests gleaming. Their faces were masks of marble beneath their helms, their eyes fixed on me.
My thoughts lurched at the sight of them. Talon would have sealed the weaknesses in our gapped fence—so how had they gotten inside? And how had they reached the sleeping quarters as if they knew every crooked turn of the halls?
The guard’s words flashed through my mind.
They are always watching.
I stole a glance through a narrow window slit.
The city below was no longer a sanctuary.
The Thrynn River foamed and churned, a violent silver torrent swallowing the banks whole. The lush greenery was gone, crushed into the mud beneath iron and boots.
An army was crossing.
Their armor rippled like a sea of mercury in the dark, their banners snapping in the wind as the High Court’s crest flashed again and again. Row upon row of silent soldiers pressed toward the heart of Umbral.
I could almost hear the silk of those banners tearing through the air. Almost feel the river’s icy current pulling me under.
The scrape of a boot dragged me back.
The two guards were advancing, their movements swift.