Free Shadow's Fall by Dianne Sylvan

dancers and relaxing a little,admiring the way everyone moved together. Now, many were circulating and talking, while others danced, but some Pairs had swapped partners with their friends; she saw Prime David dancing with a gorgeous dark-skinned woman who Cora was pretty sure was the Queen of some other part of America, and Jonathan was with the Queen of South Africa.
    The music was so beautiful, and the atmosphere so genial, that Cora found herself considering whether to ask Jacob to dance with her again, or perhaps even to approach Deven just to say hello—she couldn’t stand here all night, after all, and there was no reason she couldn’t talk to people as Miranda was doing, even without her Prime at her side.
    Cora should have known something would go terribly wrong.
    “Well, well … what have we here?”
    Cora found that for all her brave words to Jacob, she couldn’t move, couldn’t react at all; time seemed to freeze the second Hart’s hand closed around her arm, and she felt his hot breath at her ear.
    “Aren’t you a beautiful sight,” he said to her softly, running his fingers down her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have thought a sparrow dressed as a peacock would be so enticing.” His grip on her arm tightened painfully as he added, “Of course, no matter how you paint it, it’s still just a sparrow.”
    She wanted to scream, to strike him, to do anything, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t even breathe.
    Suddenly Hart stiffened, and his hand pulled away as if it had touched something red-hot. Cora heard a woman’s voice, low and deadly, speaking words she didn’t understand; those words seemed to break the spell over Cora, who finally was able to wrench herself away from Hart and turn to face him.
    To her amazement, Hart was pale. Beside him stood a woman resplendent in traditional Japanese dress … holding a wooden dagger to Hart’s ribs. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes conveyed all the meaning required. They were full of cold fury.
    “Is there a problem here?”
    Cora felt the air rush back into her lungs as Queen Miranda and her Second, Faith, appeared on either side of Cora. Both were glaring at Hart with the same look as the Asian woman’s.
    “No, of course not,” Hart said smoothly, recovering his aplomb as quickly as he always had after an outburst of violent rage. He cleared his throat and straightened his tie; as he drew back from Cora, the Asian woman removed her weapon from his side and it vanished.
    “I was simply asking the young Queen here to dance,” Hart went on.
    Cora felt the first real stab of emotion since he had approached her: wrath. She held it in check, but straightened and said, her voice full of ice, “I’m afraid I must respectfully decline.”
    “Very well.” Hart gave her an extremely shallow bow and a poisonous smile. “I’m certain we’ll meet again soon.”
    The Asian woman, who Cora realized was wearing a Signet set with a milky green stone, gave Cora a silent nod, then turned and was gone, her footsteps as soundless as her imposing countenance.
    Miranda sighed. “That bastard,” she muttered. “Faith, what did Mameha say to him?”
    Faith smiled a tad wickedly. “Basically, ‘Lay a hand on her, and you draw back a bloody stump.’”
    Cora’s breath was coming in harsh gasps, though she tried to keep her calm; now that Hart was out of her sight, she felt her entire body weaken with relief and start to shake.
    Miranda gave her a penetrating look, then touched her arm. “Come on,” she said gently. “Let’s get some air. “
    Miranda led Cora around the perimeter of the ballroom, ignoring the couples that turned slowly on the dance floor to the orchestra’s flowing music. There was a door half-hidden by a huge tropical potted tree, and she beckoned for Cora to follow her through it.
    The hallway beyond was dark and quiet. She sat Cora down on an upholstered bench and let the Queen ground herself; Cora was no slouch at energy work, with