Page 56 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
“It’s fine, Amy, really. I’ll do the ruling, and your only concern will be courtly life.”
Uncle Neel scoffed. “And staying alive.”
I turned to Uncle Neel. “What?”
One of his bushy brows arched at me. “The blood curse, Amy.”
I shook my head, dense with all my thoughts on Briar’s error.
A great furrow split Uncle Neel’s forehead. He leaned toward me. “I thought you understood, Amy. The curse sent those beasts last night. It killed your father.” His voice roughened on his last point. “Now, you’re its next victim.”
All my aspirations for a normal human life flitted right out the damn door.
Ateardrippeddownmy cheek as I stood in my ravaged bedroom. My belongings lay scattered everywhere, some of them broken or shattered beyond recognition. Posters hung in tatters, the plaster beneath shredded. The bats had disemboweled my hordes of throw pillows; stuffing now coated my bedding. Somehow my headboard remained upright despite the giant crack splitting it in two. The curtains framing my window seat dangled off the wall on one side, its rod reposed in an awkward diagonal, shrouding the neat pile of complicated political philosophy books I’d set on the window seat only a week ago.
Tramping down debris, I ran to the books and scooped them all into my arms. Heavy, they may have been, but I didn’t care. They were the last gifts Daddy would ever give me. Now that I knew why he’d tasked me with reading them, I’d start as soon as I was able. Maybe they’d even help me make the hardest decision of my life.
The fate of my father’s crown wasnotsettled. Regardless of what some assumed.
When I heard footsteps, I wiped my tears.
“I know this is hard,” Briar murmured. I faced him, still embracing the books, as he stepped into the room. “But we don’t have time for sentiment. We must gather your essentials and move out. The first squadron has already crossed the portal with your father’s body and staff. We need to hurry after them before something unsavory finds you.”
I sighed, resigned to my exodus. Knowing my life was at stake had made me quite amenable to relinquishing my dreams. What good would they do me if the curse found me? I couldn’t publish novels from the grave.
“These books.” I coughed, grief thickening my throat. “They’ve got to come with me.”
“They’ll be too heavy, Amy.” Briar failed to hold back a harrumph. “And you don’t need them. I’ll make sure they’re gathered up and taken by royal caravan to the Spring Palace, though. I promise your books will find you there.”
He padded toward me, glass and plastic crunching beneath his sneakers. He’d dressed in all black, a thick hoodie beneath his lined leather vest. To most, he’d resemble a heavy metal enthusiast, but I knew the truth. He’d dressed for battle like all the other Danann warriors awaiting me outside my childhood home.
Their goal—to whisk me back to Evereostre before Gentian acquired the bogeybat’s staff fragment. That would be evidence enough of Daddy’s demise, giving Gentian the go-ahead to sic his harbingers on me. Before they reached me, my protectors wanted me ensconced in a guarded palace, so they’d have a shot at keeping me alive.
Shaking off my dread, I set down the pile of books and took the large black backpack Briar handed me. “Thanks.”
He surveyed my room. “It’s best if you pack lightweight items—underwear, a sweater, gloves, warm socks—”
“I thought we were going to the Spring Court.” I went to my top dresser drawer, which lay overturned on my armchair beside my toppling bookshelf. “Won’t it be warm?”
Briar knelt to sift through the damaged trinkets littering my floor. “The days are warm, but the nights can be nippy.”
Supposing that made sense in spring, I began a hunt for the items he’d listed.
“What’s the deal with the cane?”
“It’s a staff,” Briar corrected, rummaging beneath my bed. He found my off-brand Buggs and considered them. “Are these comfortable to walk long distances in?”
I nodded before he tossed them to me, advised me to put them on. As I was now wearing a pair of jean shorts and my favorite UPJ tee, I was glad certain celebrities had made it fashionable to wear snow boots with anything.
“Okay, what’s the deal with thestaff? Why did the bats want it so badly?” I assumed that’s why the ugly bastards had plundered the house instead of just killing Daddy and moving on.
“Because it’s got powerful magic.” Briar nabbed my hairbrush from behind my headboard, raised it in triumph like a hard-won trophy. “It was originally the Dagda’s staff.”
Of course, it was.
“It’s been passed down to all the Dagda’s successors. Now, it’s yours. Although, since you hacked it in half, its magic is sort of—broken.”
I cringed. “Leave it to me to destroy something eons older than the goddamn earth.”
