Oooooh, things are getting heated up in here! Shion told Nezumi he wanted to go home, so now what's going to happen since the Autumn Equinox has officially begun? Let's find out!
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The chaos that followed would haunt Shion's nightmares for the rest of his life.
In the blink of an eye, Nezumi drew his silver blade from its place on his hip and plunged it into the throat of the white-haired Knight standing at his side. Dark red blood sprayed from her neck as she collapsed onto the floor with a miserable gurgle; Nezumi turned, wrenching the blade from her ruined body, and plunging it forward into the chest of the ogre with the broken tusk.
The ogre fell to his knees with a betrayed shout. The words of the chant died on his lips, his beady black eyes wide and staring up at Nezumi with a mixture of betrayal and uncertain terror. He'd never anticipated that Nezumi would be the one to destroy him.
The drumming ended as abruptly as it began.
The Unseelie Court went deathly silent.
A moment of gut-wrenching, horrific silence followed, and a monstrous look crossed Nezumi's face. It was a look of pure murder, hatred bred over years of near-daily abuse finally bursting to the surface. Shion's stomach plummeted at the sight of it.
A glass-shattering shriek erupted from the heart of the Court—and then chaos exploded.
The Folk shoved to the back of the dome dove into the crowd, ripping and tearing at the Folk closer to the front. Shouts of pain and horror burst in an array as a full-out brawl began in the middle of the Unseelie Court. Sprays of scarlet, purple, and black blood shot into the air, painting the stone walls with splatters of carnage and gore. The severed head of a bone woman struck the wall and tumbled down in an assortment of ragged bone and tangled hair, leaving a streak of scarlet in its wake.
The two remaining Knights were on him before Nezumi stepped toward the Unseelie King. The crimson-haired faerie gnashed his teeth together and approached Nezumi with his hand clamping down on the hilt of his blade. He spat a series of curses that fell on deaf ears as the Unseelie Court shrieked in misery.
"What," the Unseelie King snarled at Nezumi, "the fuck are you doing?"
Shion gave his chains a fierce yank, throwing his weight into the force. Nothing gave. He let out a loud gasp, desperation cracking through him.
The crimson-haired faerie took a swipe at Nezumi, but he took the brunt of the attack with the side of his arm. The thin leather armor absorbed the blow; Nezumi threw his arm forward, knocking the sword aside. He twisted, faster than Shion would have believed, the edge of his silver knife scraping across the other Knight's face. His hands flew to his ruined eyes, a piercing shriek erupting from his throat as he staggered backward.
The Unseelie King stormed toward the edge of the silver floor, shouting commands over the shrieks and chaos of the riot. Shion couldn't hear his voice over the ring of blades and the horrified shouts of onlookers. Blood thrummed in his ears as he tried to yank his wrists free from the manacles.
Nezumi shot his foot out and knocked the gnome onto the floor. The Knight grunted, his head smashing the stones of the staircase. Blood exploded from his mouth from the force of the blow, and Nezumi stepped on his chest and went over him, ascending the stairs.
The Unseelie King hissed down at him.
In a blur of black and copper, Scorpia dove out of the shadows with a furious snarl—Shion had nearly forgotten about the Phooka, so distracted by the prospect of his own demise—and swung at Nezumi with a sharp golden blade. Nezumi parried the blow with the back of his knife, the dull edge that clanged as the sword collided with it.
The Unseelie Court raged as the riot went on. A green-haired girl with grasshopper legs went careening through the air, crashing into one of the tables laden with food. The force of the strike caused the table legs to buckle, and the whole thing came down with a thunderous boom. Red wine mixed with blood exploded into the air, splattering on a group of faeries who huddled nearby, desperate to avoid the worst of the assault.
"Stop it!" The Unseelie King roared into the crowd. "I command you all to stop!"
His voice twisted into the shadows, vanishing beneath the hollers and howls of dying Folk. The Court of Blood and Decay closely began to live up to its name. Carnage slopped across the stones, bits of hair and severed limbs piling in the corners and cascading down on the onlookers like fat raindrops. Two ogres thundered by, roaring as they collided with a horde of faerie woman dressed in wispy white gowns, shoving them to the ground and trampling on them.
Nezumi and Scorpia circled each other, knife and sword held in each of their hands. Their weapons weren't suited for the sort of combat they engaged in—Nezumi's was meant for close combat, and Scorpia's for distance, and both of they kept close enough to be a threat but far enough to avoid the reach of their opponent's blade. But both Knights were powerful enough and skilled enough in their battle skills to compensate for the disadvantages their particular brand of weapon raised. They circled each other, gold and silver eyes darting, neither one willing to make the first move and risk giving the other the advantage.
There were too many other Folk battling in the cavern. Trolls and hobgoblins and gnomes grabbing for any object they could get their tiny hands on—heavy copper goblets, butter knives and thorned roses used for decoration—and taking tentative swipes at the large Folk that dared to pass in their midst.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" the Unseelie King bellowed. A few of the Folk close to him halted in their assault, terror cracking through the mask of excitement concealing their features, but the rest of the Court was deaf to their Dark Lord's commands.
It was a nightmarish mess. Folk of all shapes and sizes lunged through the air, ripping and tearing at those closest to them. Blood painted the hall so much that the walls dripped with it, puddles spreading on the stones and leeching into the dirt so deeply that Shion doubted anything would grow there. A lake of death spread across the filthy ruin of the Unseelie Court, a level of bloodshed Shion suspected even the darkest of the faerie courts had never witnessed.
The Unseelie King observed it all with an irate expression. His painted green lips pressed in a thin line, his dark eyes clicking from one disloyal warrior to the next. His broken wings buzzed with fury, and rotten purple magic prickled on the ends of his tattooed fingers like shocks of lightning. He looked around the crowd, unable to decide who to aim the first blow at. His gaze settled on Nezumi, a bit too long to be of any comfort, but Scorpia twisted and stood between the two of them, creating a living barrier that the Unseelie King would need to strike down if he wished to end Nezumi's life. Shion wouldn't have put it past him to do so.
An agonized hiss erupted from the stairs. Scorpia had decided to make the first move. He dove for Nezumi's armored legs, swiping the blunt edge of his blade toward him. Nezumi sidestepped the strike and brought the hilt of his blade down, landing a blow between Scorpia's shoulder blades. The Phooka crashed to the ground with a loud hiss, the blade of his long sword clattering against the stones and skittering just out of reach.
Shion tugged uselessly on his chains. Even with adrenaline coursing through his veins, he wasn't powerful enough to wrench the silver links apart. His chest ached as he desperately tried to escape, the bones in his wrists screaming in agony as he pulled against the metal.
The Unseelie King bellowed something down at Nezumi, but Shion couldn't hear him over the ring of shattering glasses and dying shrieks.
Shion watched in horror as the Unseelie King lifted his hand, a ball of purple shadows congealing in the palm of his hand. The muscles in his bare back flexed as he aimed the strike down to the stair where Nezumi stood, trading blows with Scorpia now that the Phooka had scrambled for his blade and brought it up. Nezumi caught the blade with his hip; the edge sliced through the armor, not enough to sever, but enough to draw blood.
Nezumi and Scorpia rolled to the side. The Unseelie King turned his head to watch them, and Shion caught a horrific view of his profile. The Unseelie King's hideous, beautiful face was drawn in a murderous sneer. Hatred burned in his black eyes, and it was frighteningly clear that he no longer cared if he struck Scorpia down in the process.
So long as Nezumi died, too.
Horror and fury exploded through Shion all at once, like an illness. His vision tunneled, thinning until all he could see was the Unseelie King's unprotected back, the broken wings and the slots between his feathers where iron had singed away the skin years prior. He looked at the faerie monarch standing in front of him, and all Shion wanted was to see him dead.
"DON'T!" Shion threw all his weight forward. The chains were short, but just long enough for Shion to tackle the Unseelie King around the waist and pull him to the ground.
The Unseelie King whirled at his shout, a startled cry ripping from his throat as Shion threw him to the ground. Shion's teeth rattled with the force of the strike; he landed across the Unseelie King, the dark creature pinned beneath him on the silver floor.
The Unseelie King let out a pained shriek, and a loud hissing sound came from behind him. Shion lifted his head, spotting a thin wisp of silver smoke rising from the silver floor where the King's spine and two feathery wings touched it.
Iron.
The floor was made of iron.
Something heavy struck Shion upside the head, and he went sprawling backward. The chains wrapped around his wrists gave a fierce tug; he screamed as the bones in his shoulders stretched, the force of the blow sending him farther than their reach. The side of his head struck the floor. Stars exploded in front of his vision as the Unseelie King leaped to his feet, his face twisted into a look of seething rage and thinly veiled pain.
"You," the Unseelie King snarled. His pitch-black eyes burned, pinning Shion in place. "You fucking little insect."
Shion scrambled back on his hands and knees, the rattling of the chains against the iron floor echoing as loud as gunshots in his ears. His heart hammered like a wild animal, desperation cracking through his chest as terrified gasps burst their way out of his lips.
The Unseelie King stalked toward him, black eyes glittering like two infernal torches. He twitched his fingers—and Shion went sprawling onto the ground as something like invisible hands grasped him and hurled him to the side. He felt a tingling sensation on the back of his scalp. The King towered above him, and with a vicious hiss, he brought his heavy black boot down on Shion's throat and pressed.
Shion grasped his foot and pushed uselessly, rasping as the pressure cut off his air. The bones in the nape of his neck creaked as the pressure increased, his lungs burning as air fled from them. The King clenched his perfect white teeth in a hideous snarl, applying his weight in a slow, calculated manner, his hatred outmatched by his desire to watch Shion suffer.
"You hideous thing," the Unseelie King growled. "Did you honestly think you were going to survive tonight?"
A miserable groan echoed from the stairs, followed by the clattering of metal against stone. Shion shoved with all his strength against the Unseelie King's boot, scraping his stubby nails across the fierce leather and desperately twisting to escape.
The King pressed his heel down—
And then, all at once, the weight that threatened to snap his neck disappeared. The Unseelie King's cavernous black eyes went impossibly wide, his painted green lips falling open in a look of near comical surprise.
He collapsed to the ground at Shion's side. Droplets of black blood splattered across Shion's face as his body struck the floor, the King's ruined wings spreading out around him like a shroud. There was a sickening hiss where the King's right cheek and arm hit the iron. Protruding from his back, wedged between his shoulder blades, was the blackened hilt of Nezumi's knife, buried so deep there was no sign of the silver composing it.
Nezumi stood above them, his silver eyes wild and unfocused. Scarlet blood smeared across his face in a grotesque display, but Shion doubted it belonged to him. Nezumi lifted his own boot up, and Shion had only a moment to raise his arm and defend himself before it came crashing down on the chains keeping his wrists trapped.
The silver links might have been too powerful for Shion to break, but they were insignificant compared to Nezumi's raw strength. The heel of his heavy boot shattered the chain keeping Shion locked to the iron floor. He wrenched his hands back, curling them against his stomach. His heart hammered, the corset constricting his lungs and squeezing the air out of him. He breathed in deep gulps of air, ignoring the haze of metallic blood tainting it. Tears dribbled down his cheeks, his throat sore from where the King had pressed.
Shion looked over at the motionless body of the Unseelie King. "Is he—?"
"He'd better be," Nezumi snarled, his silver eyes blazing with fury. He looked at the Unseelie King's body with disgust, all the hatred he'd been growing over the years brimming to the surface. It was an ugly thing on him, as if a creature comprised of nothing but hatred and misery had taken residence inside his body.
The Unseelie Court continued to rage around them. Shion looked around the Scorpia, but he couldn't find the Phooka in the throng of courtiers. A faerie woman with cropped blue hair staggered by, coated in blood like a character from a horror movie, a stunned look plastered on her face before she fell to her knees and sat motionless. Shion looked around desperately, uncertain which of the Folk thrashing in the fray were friend or foe, or whether they had anything to do with the explosion that'd raged around the Unseelie Court in the wake of Shion's silent plea to Nezumi for freedom.
Nezumi glared at his knife. He looked as if he wanted to wrench it free from the Unseelie King's spine and revel in the bloodshed, smearing the blackened blood across his palms and displaying it like a trophy. Shion's fingers trembled, the silver chains rattling on the ground as he reached out and desperately grasped Nezumi's wrist.
Those burning silver eyes swung toward him.
In an instant, Nezumi's fingers twisted around Shion's wrist, wrenching from his flimsy grip and hauling Shion, not gently, to his feet. His bare feet brushed against the Unseelie King's singed wings as Nezumi yanked him toward the stairs and guided him down them. Shion took them two at a time, almost stumbling as soon as his toes touched the bloody ground.
Shion couldn't taste or smell anything other than blood. All he could see was an ocean of carnage, of shredded limbs and broken bodies and bloody piles on the stones that had once been living, breathing creatures with hopes and dreams. A severed head careened out of the crowd as if it'd been thrown at them; it struck the stairs beside Shion's shins and exploded in an array of green blood, splashing up the side of Shion's pristine white clothing.
Shion sucked in a terrified breath-but Nezumi pulled him forward, shouldering through the crowd. He knocked aside a towering gray-skinned creature as it cut in front of them. The beast fell to the side with a sharp yowl, its massive body crashing into several of the other Folk and knocking them to the ground.
Without weapons, Shion and Nezumi fled through the Unseelie Court. Nezumi ducked into one of the tunnels, and Shion scurried behind him. Nezumi's gloved hand burned like a brand on his wrist. His chest ached, and then, before Shion could think much of it, the ribbons of his corset snagged on one of the rocks and ripped free. Shion felt it snap around his waist and slide down his thighs. He stumbled as it caught around his knees and went sprawling on the stones.
"Ow!" Shion's right hand scraped on the sharp ground, his left wrist still clutched firmly in Nezumi's fierce grip. His shoulder ached as his arm jerked; Nezumi whirled around, spotting Shion on his knees in the dim tunnel.
He swooped down and snapped the corset, wrenching it away from Shion's legs and hurling it into the shadows. He grasped Shion by the elbow and hauled him back to his feet. A brief look of concern flickered across his face-but a loud commotion had erupted from the dome behind them, as if a few of the Folk had broken away from the crowd and were making a break for the tunnels.
Nezumi cursed and gripped Shion's wrist again. He tugged him through the tunnels. Shion's bare feet caught on the stones, his toes banging against jutting rocks as they hurried along, but Shion forced down the pain and focused on running. He stared at the spot between Nezumi's shoulder blades, trying not to think of the carnage looming behind them.
The farther they went from the Unseelie Court's throne room, the darker the tunnels became. Shion's palsy human sight couldn't pick out the shapes of the stones and the caverns as they ran, out of the castle, down the walkways, around the twisting roads peppered with glowing mushrooms and little white flowers. Shion focused on Nezumi's gloved hand around his wrist, trusting that the silver-eyed boy would make good on his promise and guide him to safety.
As the darkness descended around them, Shion closed his eyes and kept running. His chest burned, his heart pounding like a drum in his ears. Nezumi's heavy boots banged against the ground as they sprinted down the narrowing corridors, into the damp tunnels where Scorpia had dragged him less than two days ago, nothing but a sacrifice for a Court brimming with death and misery.
Except Nezumi had rescued him. Nezumi had forsaken his Court and protected him. He'd shoved a knife into the Unseelie King's back, betrayed the monarch who held sway over him, all in the name of freeing a human boy who'd been marked for sacrifice. The last scraps of light vanished from the tunnel until Shion couldn't see anything. All he could feel were the frozen stones beneath his bare feet, the pain in his lungs from running for so long without rest, and the solid warmth of Nezumi's hand, clamped around his wrist like a manacle and refusing to let go.
Together, in the darkness, Shion and Nezumi left the monsters behind.
To Be Continued...