Page 100 of Wings of Ice and Steel

In seconds, darkness spilled from the Shadow, flooding his throat and muffling his cries. Nieve him swiftly while behind her, the prisoner staggered.

‘You okay?’ she asked as he massaged his temples.

‘I will be, let’s go.’

Ahead of them the spiral stair loomed. All that remained was to find Ariadnne in the nest of knights and guards above and pray that she was whole enough to escape.

Forty-four

Nieve

Nieve’s nostrils flared as she examined the rusty, speckled trail on the floor outside the jail. Blood, with a faint hint of spice. A scent Nieve would know anywhere.

Her heart thudded, the pounding filling her ears as the Shadow watched, frowning at her balled fists. Nieve didn’t care. Ariadnne had been injured and every nerve in Nieve’s body screamed at her to act. To find her.

She stalked forwards, marking each drop they passed, every red speck a new reason to kill whomever had lain a hand on her mate.

Ariadnne was alive, that much Nieve knew. The bond was still there, trembling and weak but tugging at her chest with fierce persistence. The fact that Ariadnne had been here, outside the jail, must mean she’d been trying to reach her, and something had gone horribly wrong.

Nieve’s sharp, booted feet echoed in the silent corridor as she ran through possible scenarios, each more dire than the last; Ariadnne bleeding out in her rooms. Ariadnne being tortured for trying to help her, being collared, or worse. In contrast, the Shadow moved silently, tendrils of darkness slipping from his fingers and slithering across the flagstones. Nieve shuddered, wondering if the rumours she’d heard about the volatile shadow-wielders were true. He certainly looked the part with his long, tangled hair and gaunt cheeks.

Through the door ahead, the parade grounds were cast in an orange glow, dark fingers stretching across the flagstones. The Shadow’s step faltered as he crossed the threshold, and he blinked up at the sky, lines of tension melting from his face.

‘Keep to the walls,’ Nieve muttered. ‘There are guards on the battlements.’

With a smug grin, the Shadow flicked his wrist. A wave of light-bending power stretched over them, blurring and distorting until Nieve could barely make out the Shadow’s silhouette.

‘Okay. Well, that’s a neat trick.’

Nieve waved her hand in front of her face. It shimmered, but from a distance they would as good as invisible.

The Shadow grunted. ‘Which way, Iceling?’ His voice tremored as though under strain and Nieve doubted he could keep it up long.

‘Ariadnne’s been hurt. We should check her quarters.’ She pointed towards the far building, forgetting that the Shadow couldn’t see her arm.

‘Hurt?’

‘It was her blood, on the floor,’ Nieve replied tightly.

‘You could tell?’

‘Yes.’

She didn’t elaborate and he didn’t say more, following in silence as she set off across the paved yard. The castle was uncannily quiet, the only sounds coming from the direction of the dining hall. The occasional servant bustled past, Nieve holding her breath as she waited for a cry of alarm, but the Shadow’s illusion held steady. He was useful, after all.

She led them swiftly to the servant corridors, aiming for the passage that Sascha had shown her. Memories of the last night she’d come this way, of Ariadnne’s body in her arms, her taste on her tongue, threatened to swallow her. That wouldn’t be the last time they were together, Nieve wouldn’t allow it.

Crossing into the darker servant’s passages, Nieve stopped in her tracks.

‘Shadow, before we go further, I need some sort of assurance from you that you mean Ariadnne no harm.’

There was a pause, then with a sigh the Shadow released his magic. His inked face, lit by a stuttering faelight, appeared affronted by her question.

‘I would never, nor would my people, willingly harm a dragon.’

‘You make it sound like you know dragons better than someone outside the Guild should,’ Nieve replied.

The Shadow stayed silent. Nieve shook her head. ‘Fine. Keep your secrets. What’s your name?’