It’s not far before we come to a place that feels muddy and cold, as if the very air is against us. A shiver runs down my spine and goosebumps pop up along my arms.

A sharp, stabbing pain causes me to double over, clutching my heart.

The queen darts in front of Hans and Areece, and she somehow pushes them back, preventing them from going another step forward.

I hiss out a breath at the pain, but then it stops, and I realize Rose was only warning me. Stopping me from walking into the shield and being burned to a crisp.

Thanks, Rose.

Warmth builds in my chest, this time light and soothing. I feel her smile, and it makes me smile.

The king comes forward, and he pops into his human-shaped form, his wings buzzing and his face pinched in concentration. He brings both hands forward to rest on the invisible wall, wincing when it cracks and sizzles around his hands, flashing like lightning.

He closes his eyes, and I dart my attention from him to down both halls to be sure we aren’t surprised as he focuses on the shield.

Silver Eyes does the same, and he meets my gaze with a slight smile.

“When they find the shield down, they will know we are here. We don’t have long,” Hans cautions.

The queen places her hand beside the king and other fairies I don't know also put their hands on the barrier.

I wonder if I imagine it seething, throwing ripples in what should only be pure air.

“I know," I reply to Hans. "It’s the reason we must separate. You know what you gotta do.”

He watches me with a mixture of hesitancy and concern, but his eyes say he understands. I need him to go with the fairies to bring the shield down from the inside so the Honour Knights may infiltrate from the outside while we sneak my family out.

A distraction, if you will. A sleight of hand. Hopefully, we'll be in and out with no one the wiser as Hans and his knights take down the ring of assassins and foreign invaders.

“It will be done, minx. Just stay safe. Jenny would kill me should something happen to you. She's frightening at this time.”

I grin, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “She's frightening all the time. And I’ll be fine. You look after yourself, old man.”

He gives me a long, searching look, but his lips try to smile despite trying to hide it and his eyes crinkle at the corners.

The shield goes down with a fizzle and a pop much like that of a fire sizzling against a balloon until it pops.

We both turn, Silver Eyes already having a dagger in hand and looking down the passage as me and Hans bid each other a silent goodbye… just in case.

“They know we are here. We must go,” the queen says, popping back into an orb.

Hans bows to me, shares a long look with Silver Eyes, and then jogs after the fairies when they dart down the left passageway.

We take the right.

The trip through this somewhat maze-like underground would be much harder without the man I’m following. For example, right when I would've jumped the guard making rounds, the assassin spy pulled us both into a dark alcove with the black-cloaked guard walking past none the wiser.

We continue on in silence, and he pulls back the hood and takes off the mask, then unlatches the cloak and turns it inside out, checking his knives just as I did before we got here. But he did get kidnapped, so maybe he's just making sure he got them all back.

I gawk again at the hair toupee. I should be focusing on our mission, but thinking about what may lie underneath that fake stuff is easier than thinking about what condition my family might be in should we even find them.

I shake the thoughts from my head of my tortured family and instead focus on the toupee again. What does his real hair look like? Mayhap it's too ugly to be seen. But any hair would be better than the ugly lump of animal hair clumped on the top of his head. Maybe he’s bald?

The draw of steel has me whirling. I barely get my dagger from its sheath before a sword takes off my head. Stupid toupee. I hate that thing. It’s a distraction I don’t have any use for, thank you very much. Much like the head and body it’s attached to.

I turn to glance behind us, and almost jump out of my boots when I see five men. I tap Silver Eye's shoulder, and he glances back as if unfazed at the four men armed for dragons. They are dressed from head to toe in black, with the whites of their eyes the only thing peeking from behind folds of silken cloth. Even their drawn swords are the charcoal color of darkest night.

I want one of those. Badly. They'll go well with my stolen—erm borrowed—collection from Silver Eyes.

I narrow my eyes as the one closest to me draws another dagger and flicks it back to throw it. His eyes narrow over my shoulder. Nuh-Uh. Not happening.

I slam the heel of my foot into his crotch, causing him to grunt. I draw my second dagger from its sheath and catch the thrown blade just before it leaves his hand, knocking it to the floor with a clatter of metal against stone.

He darts back, dodging my blade, and catches my dagger with his own. We dance in the dangerous game of life and death. The three behind him are caught until one of us is defeated. The passage is too narrow for them to sneak around.

But that also means I don't have Silver Eye's help.

“Duck!” Silver Eyes shouts, surprising me. I only partially deflect the next parry, taking a slash to my forearm.

I duck as the man in front of me does the same. Three throwing knives in a triangular pattern soar over my head from the black garbed men, shooting through where my chest was just moments before. The rattle of them imbedding into rock and stone makes my ears ring. I cross my daggers, catching the black sword of the first assassin when he seeks to slash me open while I'm distracted.

Silver Eyes grabs my shoulder and knocks me over, shoving a sword into the man's chest. I wince as his eyes glaze over, and look away as he drops, until Silver Eyes gives a quick jerk on my cloak, dragging me back like a wolf would grab her pup by the scruff, and almost choking me as he helps me behind him.

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I take a note from the assassins when I can breathe again and flick a knife, hoping it hits something... anything. It imbeds handle first, right between one of the sucker’s eyes. I mentally pump my fist. I can sense Silver’s eye’s rolling from here as the assassin topples. And then there were two.

I finger another knife and eye the two that are left. The jumpy one to the left flicks his eyes my direction before adjusting his stance to take on Silver.

Hmm. I like it. So shall he be dubbed. Areece never did fit him. Perhaps because it was never his name.

Silver leans back at a full ninety-degree angle, and I have time to meet his strangely smug, upside down smirk before two daggers flash over his head, one imbedding in a wooden pot that has seen better days and the other hitting the wall.

Silver smoothly rises and attacks. I can’t help but be impressed. The guy knows what he’s doing. I’ve gotta give him that. He meets attacks with excellent parries, his sword flicking out to catch and deflect daggers without so much as a flinch.

I flinch as a dagger from the enemy seems to slip past his guard and head for the soft tissue of his neck.

“Watch—“ my warning is too late, and I know it. I’m going to watch this annoying, aggravating, cute, extremely talented swordsman of a spy get decapitated by an assassin’s blade. And I’ve just been standing back to gawk at his talent the whole time instead of doing something productive. Some great Guardian I am.

He blocks the knife with a long dagger of his own, catching it on the guard and flicking the assassin's knife out of his hand.

Then those silver eyes flick back to me. “Want to join the fun?”

I move, and there’s nothing that’s going to stop me from overcoming one assassin. Then I trip.

That stupid little—why’d a junky old thing like that be sitting in the middle of the pathway?

I sit up. My heart jumps in my chest and I back peddle when I meet silver eyes inches from my own. They shine in the low waterlight, reflecting the light almost like a wild animal.

“Thanks for the distraction.” It takes me a minute to realize he’s being sarcastic. I glare at him. His gaze gets lighter and a rumbling chuckle comes from his chest. “We should continue, mea tigris.”

I nod, then casually throw the knife I had picked up from the broken remains of the poor pot. First it’s broken by throwing knives, and then it’s tripped over by little ol’ me. I’d say its days are officially over.

The knife clocks the assassin hilt first in the throat, popping him for the second time that night. I can never hit anything blade first… but I’ve found I can hit things with the wrong side of the pointy objects quite often. I am quite proud of the hit, if I can say so myself. At least I hit the guy.

Silver holds out his hand, but I ignore it and get up myself. He chuckles again, and I find it even harder to ignore the fellow.

The chuckle cuts off abruptly when I reach down to grab another knife. He grasps my arm in a gentle, firm hand. It takes me back to an evening in the woods, when those firm, calloused hands cared for my palm. He looks me in the eye, and I see something there. I wonder if he’s having déjà vu like I am.

“You’re bleeding,” he says.

Oh. That. I look down at it with a grimace. Another scar to add to my ever-increasing collection. And it throbs something awful now that he's brought attention to it. But I have a feeling I’m going to have worse before the night's done.

He quickly takes a knife and tears his own cloak to make a quick bandage. I watch him in confusion, unsure what I should be doing. He’s constantly trying to take care of me, but—I don’t want to be cared for. I want to be strong and capable all on my own.

Don’t lie, rider, Ran says softly in the back of my head.

So what if I do? It’s a good lie and one I need to believe if I want to stay away from this handsome man. Especially when he shows that soft side. Anger. That’s right. I should be angry with him.

He casually hits the gasping assassin in the temple when he stumbles too close, knocking the man flat, all while still holding my hand. The poor dazed assassin didn't know what hit him.

When he releases my arm, I stand. “It’s only a scratch. Won’t even require stitches. Where should we put them?” I jerk my head towards the guys in black splayed on the floor like some misplaced rag dolls dropped by a toddler.

He shakes his head. “No time. We need to move,”

Rider, you need to move. There’s an army converging on the East and West. I’m entering from the South. Hans is directing the Knights from all four corners, but it will take them a while to reach you. Stay safe and stay hidden.

I grin. So Hans did it, just as he said he would.

I look at Silver, wondering what sort of powers he has if he’s able to know things like that before they occur.

He blinks at my stare. “How’d you know there’s an army coming?” I ask.

His smirk returns. “It’s common sense. That took too long.”

I shake my head, not convinced.

But I turn and trot back to the assassins, grabbing and stowing as many daggers and throwing stars as I can. Ohhh, Mr. bruised head has a sword. An actual, honest to goodness gleaming black sword.

I gasp in delight, then turn and run, letting Silver trail along behind me.

Found them, Ran says softly into my mind.

Where? My one word is hard, demanding.

She guides me, using both words and the unspoken intuition of our spirit bond. We can know about where the other is, if not precisely, then pretty close.

It’s a bigger place than the outside at first suggests, the bowels of the building digging into the earth. We descend, the ground beneath us changing from hard rock to compact dirt.

And the further we go, the more I have to ignore the weight of what is above me. The walls seem to close in, and I can’t get enough breath. But my family is here. I must push on, for if nothing else, I must get them out.

“Are you alright, mea tigris?”

I realize I’ve stopped, and my head has grown dizzy. I force deep breaths and think of rainbows and fuzzy little puppies. Preferably the puppies that Ran shall someday have. My breathing evens out, and I nod. “Fine. Ran’s found them. We gotta move.”

I force myself to take one small step, then another. I squeak when arms sweep me off my feet. Literally.

I half-heartedly pound my fist against his chest. “What’d you do that for?”

He shrugs and I feel his shoulders move beneath my hands more than see it. “You were taking too long.”

Of all the—I growl, low in my throat, but he looks down at me with amusement battling concern in typically aloof eyes. His brows furrow as concern wins against the amusement. “Don’t like caves much, eh?”

I close my eyes, imagining myself anywhere else as my laborious breathing returns with the reminder of what’s above. "You had to remind me."

He grunts. And I look down to find nothing but blackness beneath us. I clench my teeth against the yell trying to burst from my chest. Then we land. Thank all that is good and holy.

I release my white knuckled grip from his black tunic. “For all the snooping dog-eared, grumbling catastrophes, PUT ME DOWN!”

He just glances down at me, amusement once more flickering in those eyes. “Did you just try to curse?”

“Stop asking questions and put me down this instant!”

“No.”

I growl, but it comes out strangled when we once again leave earth and fly across another black chasm. He lands, and I immediately twist, throwing myself from his grip.

I land with an “oomph.” I roll and jog away before he can sweep me up again. “Good-fer-nothin’, grumblin’ idiot.”

“What was that?” I jump, the polite voice coming inches from my ear.

How the crazy idiot is so stinkin’ quiet I will never know.

I scowl, focusing on the dirt beneath my feet, and the task ahead of us.

Clear up them thoughts, two-legs. I’m learning more words for my repertoire.

I growl again, this time at my wolf, who snickers.

I briefly catch the smile on Silver's face before it disappears. It lightens his whole countenance and makes him appear younger. His strong jawline would make any normal woman swoon. Good thing I’m not normal.

Didn't you faint at the sight of such a glorious smile before? All the lovesick sighs and stares of longing waiting for your fine specimen of a two-legged hunk of—

Be. Quiet, I hiss, my cheeks growing red. At least it's hidden beneath my hood and mask.

Ran's vast, smug humor comes loud and clear over the bond.

I shake Ran from my brain and realize the fear is gone. The claustrophobia has miraculously disappeared. I suppose two strong emotions can’t simultaneously exist. I give the strange man beside me another glance, which he ignores.

Nope. Two potent emotions can exist. Fascination and annoyance and a few others I don’t altogether care to admit.

Somehow, I feel—safe. What is wrong with me?

I put my head down and increase my speed. At least the crazy jackal hasn’t picked me up again.

We come to a large cavern about half the size of the arena with stalactites above and stalagmites down here, making me think of monstrous teeth ready to devour anything that enters. The smooth walls and floor glow with firelight that dances, making shadows bounce upon the ceiling high overhead. I stop and crouch behind a stalagmite.

Then I see them. My blood runs cold.