A Stroke Of Midnight   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

All of uson the floor exchanged glances, as best we could. “We were not attacked,” Nicca said.

“Then what did that?” Frost pointed with one gun, and the glittering silver and white light moved where he pointed. The light hovered over the far wall of the bathroom, and we saw why he had asked who attacked us. The far wall was no more. Broken stone and debris showed a black, gaping hole.

Other guards, including Biddy, were at their backs, all with weapons drawn. “Is the princess hurt?” someone asked.

“No,” I said, but my voice was still rough, so I wasn’t sure they heard me. I had to try twice before I could make myself clearly heard. “I am fine.”

Doyle sent Hawthorne and Adair to approach the far wall cautiously, their own balls of colored light acting like pet lanterns hovering just above their shoulders. One of them called back, “It’s a garden. A small garden with a dry pool in the ground.”

“What surrounds the garden?” Doyle asked from where he stood near us.

“Stone,” Adair answered. “It is a cave of stone.”

Doyle and Frost were staring down at us. Frost’s face was pale under the arrogant mask. I glanced past them and saw the heavy door to the outer room hanging twisted and broken in its frame.

“We thought you’d been attacked,” Doyle said, and his voice held that edge of relieved fear that Frost’s face could not quite hide.

“We’re safe,” I said.

“Why does your voice sound so rough?” Frost asked.

Galen raised his hand. “My fault.”

Doyle shook his head, and put up his gun. He still held the sickly flame in the other hand, as if his hand was the wick for the candle. It was the only light I’d ever seen him call in the dark.

“Well, at least this answers one question,” he said. “Sex inside faerie is different.”

“The ring has chosen no one for me yet.”

He gave a quick smile, a flash of white in his dark face. “That is good to know.”

“Yes,” Frost said, still pale, “that is good.” He was gazing at the destruction of the room. “But if the sex continues to grow more powerful, how are we to keep Merry safe, and make her queen?”

Doyle tapped a piece of stone with the toe of his boot. “There is a circle of debris around them as clean and neat as if it had been drawn. Merry and her lovers were safe enough. I think it is the furniture and walls we will have to worry over.