He said he didn’t care whether she broke his curse or not.

Millicent snorted and ducked beneath a low-hanging branch, weaving through the fall of moss draped over it. Nell muttered something, and blew out her breath as if she’d received a face full of the stuff despite Millicent’s maneuvering.

Millicent stole a glance behind her. Nell carried bits and pieces of the jungle with her, moss and twigs and leaves. But the knight moved like a dancer, barely touching the forest, as if he had become one with it. Or as if it cleared a path for him. His golden-blond hair curled in the humidity, across his forehead, down his smooth shoulders. His naked chest gleamed with perspiration; his hose stuck to his legs, outlining the muscles in his thighs with every step he took. It hurt to look at him.

Those brilliant blue eyes caught her gaze for a moment, and Millicent quickly turned back around. Back by the pool he had made her want him, his face tender and his body aching for her. How had she allowed this to happen? Didn’t her mother teach her that men used soft words and gentle touches at first, but soon grew bored and either left, or lusted for the fury of the beast?

No. She had to be stronger than her mother. For what would happen if she allowed herself to succumb to this man? Even if he seemed different than the men her mother had known, he would still disappear back into the relic, and would stay within until the relic chose another. She could not even consider that she would be the one to break his curse, for she did not have enough love in her heart to manage something so significant. She was a dark beast of the Underground, and he, a golden man of light from above. She would not allow what she had overheard to sway—

Millicent came to an abrupt halt, Nell sliding a bit forward on her back. The tree line ended, nothing but a smooth expanse of crystal rock stretching out in front of her, a jagged chasm separating the forest from the next tunnel. Millicent tensed, and Nell plastered herself even closer to her back, burying her face in the thick ruff on her neck. Her were-beast could cross the distance in a blink, long before the duke’s men caught up with them, but the knight would be too slow. By the time he reached the chasm, he would be dodging bullets, and the only way across was a bridge of crystal, an odd tubular growth that had fallen across the gap and would be slick as ice.

The trees rustled, and Millicent turned and pinned Gareth with her gaze, hoping he could read the warning in the eyes of her beast. He understood, but did not appear concerned with the threat of peril. She kept forgetting his long years, and imagined he must have faced worse odds than this. He nodded, glanced up at the open ground before them, then quickly back into the forest, where the loud progress of the duke’s men could now easily be heard.

“Don’t wait for me,” he commanded.

Millicent’s beast gave him a short, low moan, then she turned and leaped out of the forest, her paws sliding across the smooth surface until she gained the trick of maneuvering across it, using her claws for some sort of purchase. She used all of the speed and strength of her were-self to reach the bridge, but stopped and turned before crossing it, for the sound of Gareth’s strides had faded too quickly behind her.

He had managed to make it only a few yards past the tree line. The duke’s men stood beneath a scarlet-leafed tree, the reflection of the glowing color making them look like so many devils. The men who held pistols leveled them at Gareth. The motley assortment of twisted creatures and scavenger shape-shifters accompanying them hesitated, waiting with eager anticipation for the volley of gunfire.

Millicent growled.

The sound of the discharge shook the walls of the cavern. The flare of light made her blink. The smoke from the weapons exploded in a cloud and drifted upward, and even from this distance, the sharp odor made her snort. Gareth stumbled, regained his footing, and continued to run toward her, until she could clearly see the grim determination on his face. And the blood running down his chest.

Their eyes met for a timeless moment—his so round and as blue as the sky—and then his steps slowed, and he looked down, clutching at the gaping hole in his chest. He looked back up at her, his handsome face twisted with some emotion… perhaps resignation, or sadness.

He fell face forward, his hair a tumble of gold around his head and shoulders.

Millicent screamed, a caterwaul of sound that rivaled the puny noise the pistols had made. She leaped toward Gareth, but Nell yanked on her fur, hard enough to bring tears to the beast’s eyes.

“Don’t be a fool, gel. Look to yer left.”

Within a cluster of spindly fanlike trees stood a circle of predators, their sharp eyes taking in the duke’s men, Millicent and Nell standing near the bridge, the fallen knight. That familiar smell she had scented earlier… now she could place it. The baronets from the ball still followed her. The Master of the Hall of Mages had not given up his own search for the relic.

Lions, tigers, wolves, jaguars—some as black as Millicent herself, leaped in her direction on stealthy paws, their silence more foreboding than if they had growled and screamed their bloodlust. But they had to cross the line of sight of the Duke of Ghoulston’s men, and although the hyenas and jackals headed toward the knight’s fallen body, the monsters eagerly pursued the baronet shape-shifters.

“Ach, let them fight it out, gel, while we make our escape.”

Millicent could not leave Gareth to the scavengers. She must save him. Her muscles tensed to spring, and Nell yanked on her fur again.

“Don’t be foolish. Do ye think in all his centuries, this is the first time the knight has died? He is immortal, gel, but we are not.”

Nell. She must protect the old grandmother. But a few days ago, she had been willing to give up Gareth to the duke’s twisted evil. Bloody hell, when had he become so important to her that she would risk Nell’s life over his?

Nell was right. Gareth was immortal. He would end up back in the relic, in the same clothing, the same healthy body. She had witnessed his power of healing.

And yet, Millicent still hesitated.

The lion in the lead of the pack of baronets snarled, his black lips twisted in a smile as his prey stood there and waited for him to reach her.

Millicent closed her eyes as a shudder wracked through her from head to tail, then turned and carefully put a paw to the makeshift bridge. The crystal looked like nothing more than a felled tree lying across the chasm, round and smoother than bark. One slip, and they would fall to their deaths, with plenty of time to consider her clumsiness, given the unknown distance to the bottom.

Millicent snuck a glance behind her. The lion had lost his smile; his lips now curved in a grimace of fury as one of the duke’s monsters caught up to him and reached out to snag his golden tail. She turned back around and concentrated on her footing. She had come this way only once before, when exploring the tunnels leading out of the city. The black wizards had excavated beyond the city, using their magic to dig deeper into the earth, to create odd caverns of mystery, like the glowing forest. Millicent had taken to exploring the Underground at a young age, an escape from her life of misery and poverty.

Her knowledge had proven useful over the years, but never more so than now.

Millicent blessed her cat’s balance and agility, for they reached the other side of the chasm with nary a slip to frighten Nell. She studied the crystal bridge, gave it an exploratory shove with her furry shoulder. No, it had lain too long in its place, becoming a part of the crystal floor. She did not have a chance of moving it, of plunging it into the chasm, despite her formidable were-strength.

“They’ll probably kill each other off, anyway,” said Nell, guessing her intent. “Nobody will be left to follow us—and good riddance to ’em.”

Millicent huffed and entered the third tunnel on her right. For her part, she did not think the duke’s men stood a chance against the baronets, monsters or no. She knew the Master’s spies would follow her, and she could think of only one place where they would not be welcome. Where she might stand a chance of evading them.

The underground city.

The denizens of the deep did not like intruders. Most of the wizards who controlled the city lived above, and used their underground homes only to practice the dark arts—and their even darker inclinations—in secret. They cloaked the entrances and shrouded the existence of the Underground in myth and mystery. They would not care about the purpose of a group of intruders. They would kill them before words could be spoken.

Millicent twitched her whiskers in a grim smile and entered the tunnel, her sight quickly adjusting to the darkness. This tunnel was the shortest path to the city, but she would have to be careful when they reached the larger cavern. The heat and treacherous footing would make it difficult, but she knew the way, and any shape-shifters who followed her did not. Nell rocked on her back, a small snap accompanying the movement, and suddenly a gentle light lit their way. The old woman had taken some branches from the glowing forest.

Millicent padded into the crystal cavern, taking shallow breaths of the hot air. The reflected glow of Nell’s meager light bounced off the thousands of crystals and dazzled Millicent’s sight for a moment. She slowly wound her way around blocks of crystal, crystal shaped into round spheres, crystal dripping from the walls like a frozen waterfall. Enormous beams of the stuff crisscrossed her path, stood like soaring columns in a palace, formed shapes of stars and pointy flowers.