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Ambrosia (Frost and Nectar, #2)(51)

Author:C.N. Crawford

To the north, I envisioned one of those enormous midnight limbs shifting just a little, then smashing through the windows on that side.

The castle floors shook, and the sound of shattering glass echoed through the halls .

My magic vibrated up from the tree and into my body. Distantly, I felt the vibrations of the breaking glass. With the tree’s shift, poppy-red leaves rained down outside, and the stone halls filled with the sound of commands barked in the Unseelie language, directing soldiers, I assumed, toward the tumult.

Chaos reigned, which sent a shadowy thrill through me. As anarchy gripped the castle, my own thoughts quieted.

After everything they’d done to Torin and me, a vicious part of me wanted to leave this place in ruins. I wanted to rip the tree free of the stones that burdened her, to bury the queen in a pile of rubble.

But I had to exercise restraint. My work wasn’t done here until I had Torin’s body.

I slipped back into the stairwell, leaning my head against the cool stones. Shielded in here, I tuned into the castle’s vibrations, and my heart started to race at the rhythmic marching that pounded through the stone. The oncoming footfalls of armored guards rushing closer, steel-clad bodies clanging through the halls. My breath caught. If I hesitated too long, I’d be dead.

I knelt once more and brushed my fingertips over the rough bark, letting my mind slip into the tree’s world, feeling the life it drew from the rays of the setting sun. With a rush of magic, sap surged through its veins, dripping off its leaves. I drew the boughs closer to me through the southern wall, and they smashed through the nearby tower windows, shattering glass .

When I peered out into the hallway, Mab’s soldiers were scrambling, drawing their swords as sap and glass rained down. What did they think they were going to do with their swords, kill the tree? With a curl of my lip, I summoned the tree branches to twine around the soldiers, yanking them out through the shattered windows. Their screams filled the air, along with the coppery scent of blood.

The hall was nearly clear now, but footfalls pounded up the stairs from below, coming right for me. I held my breath, and the tree breathed for me.

With my fingertips touching the floor, I compelled the tree to exhale until the air filled with pure oxygen—enough to make a man’s head spin, to make him stagger around like a drunk. When the first Unseelie soldier dragged himself up the stairs, gripping the walls, all it took was one kick to his chest to send the entire troop tumbling backward down the stairwell.

The tree exhaled my breath. Still, I was starting to feel light-headed. When I stood, euphoria clouded my mind.

Steadying myself on the doorframe, I was relieved to see the hallway was still clear. Only a single woman moved in my direction now, a little slip of a thing. She looked pale, terrified. Dressed in a delicate white dress and a flower crown, she stepped gingerly over broken glass and sap, which glittered like garnets in the flaming rays of sun. The world was a bloody and beautiful place, nowhere more so than in the Court of Sorrows.

I stepped back into the stairwell and held my breath, waiting until she was inches from the doorway .

With a flick of my wrist, red-leafed vines curled around her neck and mouth, and I dragged her into the stairwell as she kicked and bucked. A dark survival instinct unfurled within me, and I tightened them a little more around her neck until her eyes closed and her body went limp. I had no idea if I had enough control to suffocate someone while keeping her alive. But when faced with my own death, I’d take the chance on a stranger’s. When her muscles went slack, I released the vines and looked down at her with a twinge of guilt.

She looked about forty, delicate of frame, with black hair and tattoos on her cheeks. She could be someone’s mom, I supposed. Her chest still rose and fell, soothing my nerves. That was one less thing to keep me up at night if I managed to get out of here. In the stairwell, I undressed, peeling off my filthy prisoner’s clothes. With a hammering heart, I pulled on her white dress, then adjusted the flower crown on my head to hide my copper horns. I shoved her unconscious body into the corner of the stairwell and made a half-hearted attempt to cover her with my clothes. I pulled her shoes off, too, and they nearly fit, just a size or two too large.

With my new disguise, I started toward the western end of the castle. Broken glass crunched beneath my stolen shoes. I moved west toward the light, hurrying toward the Tower of Dusk.

It was only a few feet away now—

Someone grabbed me by the hair, yanking me back.

“Here she is,” he snarled in my ear. “Queen Mab has been looking for you. She wants to throw you off the tower.”

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