The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1) (35 page)

“She’s not in the ballroom, I’ve looked it over three times,” Penny said, attempting to restrain her panic. They all exchanged fearful glances.

“I don’t see Valentine anywhere, either…” Gavin breathed, his gaze jumping from face to face.

“Come on, let’s spread out and find her! She can’t have gone far! Hurry!” Penny yelled as she rocketed away from the table toward the ladies’ restroom. She pushed her way inside and called out Annette’s name, but the only answer was a rhythmic dripping of water. Penny sped back outside, sick with guilt and frustration at the horrifying notion that her frivolous time with Noah had endangered her friend.

Penny bumped past two faeries as she made her way toward the exit. Seeing no one in the hallway leading to the main gates, Penny turned back toward the ballroom to face the multitude of guests. The loud music and tramping of feet on the dance floor flooded her mind and hindered her concentration. Her focus flicked over different things―a feathered fan, a tall pinstriped hat, a grinning face, a sloshing drink, a swatch of black silk, the chandelier, the―

Wait!
Penny thought, her eyes flying back to the black silk dress she had seen. Sure enough, it belonged to Valentine.

Valentine was sauntering out of a side room Penny suspected wasn’t intended for guests. She shut the door behind her, taking care to see that no one was watching. Penny hid behind a nearby column as she watched Valentine sidle through the crowd until she stopped behind a man in a white coat with long hair tied back into a ponytail. Penny saw the patch over his eye and her heart plummeted. It was Deimos.

Am I too late?
Penny wondered, shuddering under a wave of icy horror. With a quick glance back at the door that Valentine had snuck out of, Penny slunk toward it, weaving between the swarms of people. A moment later her hand was on the knob and she looked through the crowd to confirm that Valentine was still in deep conversation with Deimos, completely oblivious to Penny’s actions. Knowing she might only have seconds, Penny grabbed the handle of the door, gritted her teeth, and slipped inside.

She shut the door behind her and spun to face the rest of the room, coming face to face with a dead eye and a slack expression. Penny gasped and leapt back, fear coursing through her. The man with the chain around his neck stood before her, still as a statue and unblinking.

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to barge in here like this, I was―I was just―” Penny’s stream of frantic apologies slowed in bewilderment when the man made no movement whatsoever. His one organic eye had not so much as twitched. Penny caught her breath and took a quick look around the room. It was a simple sitting room with a mundane set of sofas and a small wardrobe in the corner, and a wide window on the far wall. Not seeing any sign of Annette, Penny crept toward the man, her body braced and ready to run.

“Can you hear me at all?” she whispered, not sure if she expected him to answer. His skin was the color of ash and he had dirty, unkempt black hair. Penny noticed for the first time that he had no eyebrows and more of the glowing blue lines were traced in angular patterns on his face. His left arm was made of a strong but thin metal, ending in a razor sharp set of claws. Penny’s eyes wandered over his organic arm and she noted with shock that an eidolorbe hung from his motionless hand, the string woven around his fingers and wrist. With a start, she remembered Madam Elise had told her that this was the object that, if abused, could create a wraith.

Horror exploded in her chest when she heard voices, hurried and low, approaching the door. The handle jiggled and without thinking she sprang across the room, threw the wardrobe door open with trembling hands, and dove inside.

She shut the door to the wardrobe just in time. Penny put her back up against the wood, bracing her shoulders so they would not shake. Through the tiny hairline opening between the wardrobe doors, Penny watched Valentine tromp inside with Deimos and the group of whispering goblins Penny had seen earlier.

“Hurry! Get inside!” Valentine hissed, gesturing for them to file in faster and closing the door with a snap. Deimos and Valentine faced each other, both looking edgy. There were three goblins; two awaited further orders, while the third went up to inspect the chained man just as Penny had done.

“This is a strange human, isn’t it, Lorn?” the goblin commented in its native tongue.

The goblin called Lorn gave the other one a smack on the head and snarled. “Don’t touch it, idiot. Can’t you see there’s something wrong? That’s obviously defiled magic,” he grunted back in Gobblish, eyeing Valentine with suspicion.

“Shut it, all of you,” Deimos snapped at the goblins, his one good eye blazing.

Lorn frowned, showing off his crooked, needle-like teeth. “Then let’s get on with what we came here to do. We’ve been standing around all night,” he responded. Deimos’s eye narrowed to a slit and he stalked out of Penny’s vision.

“We’ll start soon enough,” Valentine cooed. “And all you
have
to do is stand around. That shouldn’t be hard too hard, even for a goblin.”

The goblins shared a short, irate glance. During the long silence that followed, Penny could barely keep her terror contained. She was frantic to escape, to find Annette, but all she could do was force her breathing to stay quiet. When it began to seem as if Penny would be trapped there for an eternity, a loud rap sounded at the window and Penny almost jumped.

“He’s here,” Penny heard Deimos’s stark voice, followed by hurried footsteps and the sliding of glass. Several more loud bangs and grunts trailed and then a hurried puffing of breath.

“Sorry, brother. It took longer than expected. Everything proceeding well here?” It was Phobos’s voice, high and whiny.

“Yes, but we’re cutting it close,” Deimos worried. There was a flurry of movement and all of them formed a ring in the middle of the room, sharing the same identical expression that was a cross between deliberation and dread. Phobos took up the chain that bound the chalky-faced man as Deimos started to speak.

“All right now. This needs to go flawlessly, otherwise we’re all better off dead, understand? Phobos, you take Cyrus and the goblins to the hall, yes?” Deimos gave him a hard look as if to say something more than words could express. Phobos seemed to get the message and smiled.

“Once you are
ready
…Valentine and I will grab the actress and bring her here. Phobos, you’ve got to get back quickly, understood?” Deimos ordered.

Penny’s heart pumped with a mixture of fright and relief. Annette was still safe―but not for long. Deimos approached Phobos swiftly and whispered into his ear. Penny caught the word
names
and in an instant made the connection, the realization hitting her like lead bullets.

Of course it’s them, of course they’re the ones making wraiths. Phobos obviously knows how to do it and they’re using that man…that thing…to help them. They called him Cyrus...Why couldn’t I have seen it before? He’s going to turn those goblins into wraiths…

Phobos moved toward the door with the three goblins, jerking the chain around Cyrus’s neck, whose dead arms and legs shook into an unnatural, shuddering motion, his head lolling and bobbing as he moved. Penny wanted to jump out of the wardrobe screaming and warn the goblins, to try and stop the plan from going into motion, but she knew revealing herself would mean certain death. Time stretched by, second after agonizing second.

“How will we know when?” Valentine breathed, looking tense. Deimos turned his head, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a malicious grin as a terrified scream pierced the air, audible even from within the wardrobe. Penny jumped, but Valentine and Deimos were too absorbed to notice. This first scream was followed by another, and another still, increasing until a cacophony of terrorized voices resonated throughout the entire palace.

“Now!” Deimos commanded, pushing the door open and charging into the screaming mass of bodies with Valentine behind him. Penny kicked open the wardrobe door and caught a glimpse of people trying to escape the ballroom beyond. The lights were flickering now, adding to the catastrophic events. Penny could see strobing images of people getting knocked under the feet of the stampeding crowd and bursts of flame shooting from the dragon Farful’s mouth. She watched through the open door as the dragon rocketed off the balcony and away into the night. Witchy moans and screeches emanated from the hall at the end of the ballroom—sounds Penny recognized as the voices of wraiths.

Penny was about to run from the sitting room and into the raging crowd when a very unwelcome face came out at her from the hazy darkness.

Phobos was recognizable in the flickering darkness by his shiny bald head and the chained figure trailing behind him. He spotted Penny and charged forward, overtaking her in seconds, the blinking lights illuminating his crazed, gleeful grin.

“Look what I’ve caught!” he cackled, gripping her wrist with vice-like strength and crushing it in his massive mitt until Penny screamed out in pain. Still holding Cyrus’s chain in his other hand, he shook Penny until she fell to her knees, crunching the bones in her wrist.

“Why, you look like a quivering little grub, cowering like that!” He pushed his face closer and laughed into her ear. “What were you doing in here, little grub? Snooping, spying? Dear, oh dear…” His sour breath burned at Penny’s nostrils and she sputtered with mutual fear and disgust. Phobos shook her about again and laughed his high-pitched, malcontent chortle.

Valentine emerged from the chaos, her face white and exhilarated as she called for Deimos, who joined them carrying a thrashing Annette over his shoulder. He came to an abrupt halt when he saw Phobos and Penny.

“What the hell is going on in here?!” Deimos barked, dumping Annette onto the ground. In the dim light Penny could see Annette’s face shone with tears, and she whimpered when she spotted Penny. Their eyes locked for a moment, both aware what was going to happen to them. With a sharp kick to Phobos’s shin, Penny broke free of his hold and scrambled over to where Annette lay shivering on the ground.

“I found her in the wardrobe! She was watching us,” Phobos said, unfazed by Penny’s feeble attack.

“I’m so sorry, Annette,” Penny whispered in anguish, keeping an eye on Deimos as she clutched Annette. Deimos knelt down and clamped Penny’s face in his hand, scrutinizing her.

“What did you hear? Who are you?” he demanded, gesturing for Valentine to head toward the open window. The biting night air was still blustering in, and outside fluttered a gigantic moth that was easily big enough to fit four or five people on its back. Penny realized this must have been how Phobos had gotten himself in, and how they were planning to escape. She looked at Deimos with wide eyes and a chattering jaw, unable to speak. Without warning, he slapped Penny in the face with such force it knocked her out of Annette’s arms.

Annette screamed. Deimos advanced on Penny with a fierce expression as she shuddered on the floor. “I said,
who are you
?” he hissed.

Penny wobbled to her feet and tried to stumble away, but Deimos withdrew a dagger from his belt and pinned Penny to the wall. Annette leapt to her feet as both Valentine and Phobos made a rush for her, leaving Cyrus motionless by the window. Annette took a huge breath, her chest expanding as they tried to bowl her over.

“
Someone please help us!
” she screamed at the top of her lungs in that strange resonating tone that Penny could feel more than hear. Both Valentine and Phobos crashed into Annette, causing her to yelp with pain. Deimos pressed harder against Penny, his face inches from hers, his dagger cold against her neck. Penny had no doubt he would slit her throat wide open just to save time. She felt the edge of the sharp metal sting into her throat and the warm rush of blood that followed as he started to draw it across her neck.

The sound of footsteps sped toward the door, and Penny saw the tall man in the military coat, the man she remembered as Damari, explode into the room with three rangers. Two of them made a grab for Valentine, but just as they took hold of her arms, Phobos pulled a heavy metal hammer from his belt and whipped it across their skulls.

It struck twice with heavy, stomach-churning crunches, but Damari was too quick. He flew behind Deimos, drawing a shining saber that flashed in the darkness. Deimos had but a moment to block. As he yanked his knife away from Penny’s throat, she felt the razor-edge rip deeper into the wound and collapsed in a twitching heap, clutching her neck as blood oozed out. Her head was spinning at a hundred miles a second as she watched the dire fight between Damari and Deimos, their movements too swift to follow. More rangers were flowing into the room, drawing blades, flintlock pistols, and elongated golden rifles that looked something like blunderbusses.

“Jump!” Deimos bellowed, diving for the window with Phobos and Valentine at his heels. Damari was the first after them, grasping after Deimos’s frock coat. Several guns went off, filling the air with choking powder. Deimos scooped Valentine up with one strong arm around her waist and she screamed as he leapt headfirst out of the window, followed by Phobos, who yanked Cyrus along with such violence that Penny was sure his neck would snap. The four of them plummeted out of the window, leaving the rangers gaping in confusion, only to realize Deimos and the others were making their escape on the back of a huge moth.