prince Cab had spoken to when they were planning this madness.
Enemies, One warned.
Cab turned, weary arm hefting a sword he’d stolen from a downed Queensguard and held on to just in case. How much damage would he be able to do? His fingers felt like sausages. Still, he’d have to try.
But it was only an owl winging toward them, bursting out of the darkness, nearly barreling into Somhairle’s chest. Despite how weak the young prince looked, the impact didn’t knock him over.
It was no normal owl. Its entire body was wrought of silver.
Three.
She’d seen better days, missing a chunk of feathers from one wing, an eye, and half her lower beak. Blood on her talons, a splash across her breast, and Cab could have sworn she was grinning.
Turned herself into a hundred daggers, One explained approvingly, all of them aimed at the Lying One. Would have cut him to shreds, too, if he hadn’t grown so powerful on the blood of fae children. She scared him, although she left a few of those daggers behind.
What of Morien? Cab asked.
Escaped, unfortunately. Likely displeased. Probably coming for us.
“Quickly,” Cab said. “We have to remove the mirror shards. If we don’t—”
In answer, before Cab could finish the thought, Rags cried out, sagging against the wall. “Oh yeah, he’s looking for us.” A stream of curses followed. “But he can’t find us. And hey, we already know we have insurance and he can’t kill us. Make us wish we were dead, though. . . .”
“Inis, Rags, stay behind. Hope, guard them and Sil. And the rest of the children. Two will stand with you.” A lot to ask of one man, not too much to ask of one fae. Cab stepped forward, pushing through his pain. “Shining Talon, Uaine, Einan, and I will rescue the prisoner with One. Somhairle and Three should lead us.”
Somhairle nodded, jaw hard and tight.
“Do me a favor?” Rags looked up as Cab neared him. His skin was gray. “Open as many cell doors as you can on your way. I want to piss these fuckers off, really ruin their day.”
The boy Cab had been would have balked at the indiscriminate freeing of prisoners. But under the Hill, right was wrong and up was down.
He could buy a few vital minutes by stirring up chaos. It was his sworn duty to Sil.
“I think it’s ruined already,” Cab replied, “but I’ll do my best.”
He expected Shining Talon to protest. To insist on remaining behind with Rags, who was clearly in pain, in trouble. But he followed Cab into the heart of Coward’s Silence as behind them, Sil began to work on Inis first.
Cab heard Inis shout once.
Then nothing.
As Cab and the others, Somhairle at their head, moved along the rows of cells, they heard no banging on the bars or pleas from the prisoners inside—until Somhairle whispered, “Laisrean?”
“No point,” someone behind a solid metal door moaned. “Never going to get out of here. Never—”
Cab nodded at One. She understood, sliced through the metal easily with a single swipe. Sparks flew. The door swung open and the moaning stopped.
That was how they continued, opening every door they passed. Letting murderers and thieves free. One man blew kisses as he fled. The next hollered, “Death to the Queen!”
The third man passed in silence, as though he didn’t see the people in front of his face. Cab felt a chill. They were allowing criminals back onto the streets.
But if they could slow Morien down for a single breath, that was the kind of sacrifice he had to be willing to make.
The fourth door One destroyed fell inward to reveal Malachy, three bloody stumps on his right hand where fingers ought to be. He winced, crawled away from the door, flattened himself against the far wall. He was expecting more Queensguard, not an ill-advised rescue party.
Einan yelped and ran forward.
“Don’t fall behind,” Cab warned. Softened. “If you can bring him—”
Einan was already kneeling at his trembling side. “Hush, Malachy. I won’t hurt you.”
Uaine dropped to the back of the group. “Give him to me,” she said. “I’ll do what I’m able.”
Malachy seemed to be in shock, but he smiled thinly at the sight of his comrades.
“We can’t wait for you,” Cab whispered urgently. Einan would hate him for it, but he’d weathered worse.
Uaine knelt in the tunnel with Malachy at her side. “We’ll find our way back to the others. Go ahead. You’ll only distract me if you stay.”
This last was directed at Einan, who