Chapter Twenty-Five

With the civilians in hiding and the palace forces focused on the battle outside, Harriet, Ravensberg and Annabel had emerged from the drains and pushed on through the palace.

Cannon fire continued to bombard the walls. In places the floor had fallen through to the level below when supporting pillars were blasted away. Fires had spread through the halls. When they arrived at the Throne Room, it was engulfed in flames. Harriet raised her arms to protect her face from the heat.

“It’s no good,” Ravensberg said, short of breath, unused to physical exercise. “What can we do?”

Harriet didn’t have time to answer. A figure hurtled along the hallway toward them on the back of a mechanical rooster. The machine leaped over fallen rafters and crumbled stone work, its rider’s grim-set face and wild eyebrows demonic in the light of the blaze.

He had an electrostatic gun raised and pointing toward them. Harriet realized the horror of what was happening as he squeezed the trigger and a crackling bolt of energy seared through the hallway. Ravensberg threw himself forward, arms spread wide, chest exposed, to protect the princess.

Harriet dived for Annabel, shoving her to the ground as Ravensberg took the force of the energy bolt. It knocked him back, crashing onto the marble tiles. A pool of blood spilled out around his head, his body lifeless and limp.

Harriet jumped to her feet, tugging Annabel behind her. But Cranestoft was on them. Harriet gasped as steel talons slashed through her clothes and tore the skin beneath them. Annabel was snatched from her. The last thing she saw was the butt of Cranestoft’s gun. Then there was only pain. And then there was only darkness.