The Labyrinth of the Dead by Sara M. Harvey Read Free Book Online

tantalizingly close. The breeze strengthened and eddied around her
legs, pushing her off balance. A breath of laughter echoed off of the water
below.
    "Nice try. But you don’t know me, Your
Majesty."
    The presence around her increased, pressing
on her from all sides, prodding and teasing. Portia shook it off and called
upon her soul.
    The crackling power leapt to her will,
eager to burn free once more. Instead of the all-encompassing thrill of the
aura, she focused the heat and light between her shoulder blades. Her jacket
was loose-fitted and her corset cut low in the back, just in case she would be
faced with this particular eventuality.
    Gathering herself up, Portia took a
deep breath and leapt from the edge of the cliff. The reins on her inner light
easily slipped through her fingers, and in a flash of glittering brilliance,
her sickening plummet slowed. Stretching wide silver wings, Portia swooped away
from the lurid water and into the tenebrous sky. Her jacket easily pushed up to
her shoulders, exposing her back and allowing her wings free movement. The
battle axe did not affect her balance as much as she had feared, but the
satchel hanging across her body vexed her considerably as she navigated toward
a hanging lantern affixed to a dockside post. As she approached, she realized
that she had not considered landing from a great height and at full speed.
Driven by pure instinct, she flapped the wings forward ponderously, trying
desperately to kill her momentum. With her heels jutting forward, Portia
clutched the satchel to her chest and braced for impact.
    Her landing was
hard and ungainly. Portia could not lose enough speed before she came down onto
the rough-hewn planks, and the great wings did not fold down quickly. The right
one bent back painfully as she rolled over her shoulder. The satchel flew free
of her torso, spilling its contents across the dock. Ignoring the flutter of
broken feathers in her wake, Portia scrambled to catch the jars and packets as
they skidded dangerously toward the edge. A wax-sealed bottle rolled away from
her grasp and tumbled end over end until it disappeared. A long moment later,
she heard it splash into the water below.
    "Bollocks!"
    "I didn’t know you could fly, Portia."
    Portia froze, her eyes narrowing in the
darkness. A creeping chill crawled across her flesh.
    Slowly, a smallish shape materialized
out of the darkness. The single lantern bounced yellow light across Kanika’s features and gilded her curls.
    Portia pushed herself to her knees.
"How did you get here, Kanika?"
    "The bridge." She pointed to a pair of
those peculiar tall stones several yards away. "But it’s broken now."
    "How did you get here , to the
under-side? And ahead of me?"
    "You’re just slow." She laughed.
    "I thought you wouldn’t come here."
    Kanika shrugged. "Changed my mind." She
touched Portia’s damaged wing, tugging on the out-of-joint tip.
    "Ouch! Careful!"
    "Curious. You didn’t have these
before."
    "No. I didn’t." Portia sat up and tried
to smooth the mangled feathers. She flexed them gently and the topmost right
joint popped loudly, sending a spark of pain through her body. The wings had
become a physical part of her. Portia focused and made to dispel them, but
nothing happened.
    "What are you doing?" Kanika leaned in
close.
    "Concentrating."
    "On what?"
    "Putting my wings away."
    "Oh. You can do that?"
    "Yes, at least I think so. I did it
before, once. Now, if you would just hush a moment and let me think." But it
was no use. The wings, as silver-white and gleaming as her hair, remained.
    "I’m waiting."
    "It’s not working."
    "Interesting."
    Portia gazed up at the girl. There was
something unsettling about her tone. "Kanika, how did you come through the
willow?"
    "I followed you. It wasn’t hard." She
held up a charm. It was a small felt oval, neatly stitched into a pouch. "You
helped. Just like you told me you would!" She pulled from it a narrow braid of
Portia’s hair. "And it was