My breath left my lungs. There it was, Alice's little yellow sun charm.
With a shaking hand, I snatched it off the ground. Sadness carved me open as I stared at it. I wished I hadn't found a single sign of her, but now that I had, I knew I had to find out exactly what happened to her.
If she was dead, I would avenge her.
I held the charm up in the light of the candle, inspecting the metallic face with the chipped yellow paint. Then I curled it in my fist and stuffed it in my pocket. Once more, I crossed back to the window, and pressed my hand against the rattling glass. The storm sent the wind whistling through the panes. I closed my eyes, trying to envision her final moments here. I pulled my hand away, stricken by the thought that the blood on the window could be hers.
I was twelve stories in the air now. Could she have made it down, scaling the stone? Why wouldn’t she have come back to us?
As I stared out the window at the river, the sound of footfalls made my pulse race. I blew out the candle and dropped it to the floor, then yanked up the hem of my skirt to unsheathe my dagger. Holding my breath, I tiptoed closer to the door.
Through the closed door, I heard a voice bellowing out. But he was speaking in Clovian, so I had no idea what he was saying.
Bollocks.
I pressed myself flat against the wall. In the hall, I could hear them moving closer. My throat went dry.
Now to decide what to do—fight my way out of this? Or talk?
As the door creaked open, I hid the dagger behind my back.
A thin, reedy soldier with a sparse mustache gave a frightened yelp when he saw me.
I smiled sweetly. “Oh! I’m so glad you’re up here. I was getting a little nervous. With the ghosts.”
“You are the count’s new pet? But you are not allowed out of your room.”
I frowned. “Oh. I don’t think anyone told me that rule explicitly.”
The second soldier was a large, red-faced man with the dark curls of the Clovians. “And what are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to see the Tower of Bones. I heard it was haunted.”
“But how did you get past the guards outside your room?”
And there was a bit of a hitch in my plan. I didn’t suppose they’d believe … “They had a bit too much to drink, I think. They’re sleeping.”
Fuzzy Mustache grinned, showing off a row of rotten teeth, and stepped closer to me. “When the count said not to touch her, do you think he meant killing or fucking?”
Without waiting for a response, he grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall.
The shock of the attack was so sudden and fierce, I nearly dropped my knife. But I managed to hang onto it, and my blade was in his neck within the next heartbeat.
Gurgling, he slumped forward onto me. I shoved him away. The second guard was already swinging for me.
His blade carved through the air. I ducked. He overextended, and one foot caught on his compatriot’s body. He stumbled forward, but righted himself.
I lunged for him, aiming for his heart, but he blocked it with his forearm. He grabbed me with his other arm, another crushing grip of my throat.
His sword fell to the floor, both his hands wrapped around my neck. The force of the blow against the wall was so powerful this time that I lost my grip on my dagger , and my heart sank as it clanged to the stone, the sound ringing in my skull.
“You want to die?” he asked. “Just like the others.”
The air was leaving my lungs, and my head swam with a vision—a sword carving through Alice’s neck. Those blood spatters on the window …
Two pauper sisters, dead in the same tower as the princes. Bones stuffed under the stairwell, forgotten.
I couldn’t breathe. My mouth tried to say her name, to call for Alice, for Mum.
Alice had wanted a butterfly garden. She didn’t know what it was, but she liked the sound of it. When I pictured her, she was in the sun, with orange and blue butterflies fluttering around her, landing on her arms.
That was how I wanted to remember her.
20
Lila
He was crushing my windpipe. This was how some men liked to kill women, up close, with their hands on your skin, breathing on you, pressed against you. My gaze flicked to the window, and the sight of the blood spatters filled me with a rage that sharpened my senses.
Come on, Lila.
When you grew up where I did, you learned how to get away from men like this. And Alice had taught me well, hadn’t she? She never let anyone fuck with us.
So I brought my hands up between his arms, and slammed them outward as hard as I could. He lost his grip on me. I sucked in a deep breath, then kicked him hard in the knackers. For a moment, he doubled over.
But before I could get my dagger off the ground, he slammed his fist into my jaw. I tasted blood, coppery in my mouth.
And yet I felt something sliding through my bones, a tingling darkness. A rage as ancient as Dovren. I was no prince, but the Raven King wanted me alive.
Maybe this man had no idea who he was fucking with. Like the nightshade, I was born from the ancient soil beneath the city. I summoned the darkness within me, one of moss and earth, fertilized with blood and bones.
When my own fist connected with his jaw, the crack of bone was so loud it echoed off the walls. Wrath ignited all my muscles. The hidden magic of the city vibrated through the rocks, into my body, giving me strength. I would end this man.
While he stumbled back, I punched him hard, my fist smashing his nose. Blood poured down his face, and he stumbled, losing his balance. He fell hard on his back, dazed. I darted back, snatching the dagger from the ground.
But as I did, he grabbed me by the calves, pulling with a grunt. I fell back into the unforgiving rock, but I kept my grip on the dagger. From the ground, I kicked the guard hard in the head. I sprang to my feet.
While he was trying to right himself again, I slammed the back of my elbow into his skull.
On the floor, he moaned. I brought the dagger down into his back, exactly where the long blade would pierce his heart. He went silent and still.
I stood above the carnage, catching my breath. The dark feeling that had electrified my body was starting to subside, and I was left here with the sound of my own heartbeat, my own ragged breathing.
Because now, I had a whole other problem on my hands. In fact, I had two dead bodies at my feet that I needed to get rid of.
I really didn’t need Samael knowing I was slaughtering his soldiers.
How could I dump the evidence? The part of the window that opened looked too small. I peered out at the old broken bridge that jutted out from the tower.
That might be my best bet. At one point, people would have crossed between the towers, which meant there must be a door leading out to that giant shard of bridge.
I dragged the first guard by his feet into the hallway, and it wasn’t far until I got to the door to the old bridge. It was locked from the inside, so I slid the iron lock across and then pushed the door open. I dragged the guard out onto the bridge. It must be well past midnight now, and no one was walking below at this hour. Not to mention that the storm had picked up again, rain slamming down hard.
Beneath my feet, the stone was slick. When I peered over the side of the crumbling bridge, dizziness swooped through my head. The bridge was only about twelve feet long, but twelve stories in the air.
Once I dragged the soldier's body halfway, I got down on my knees and pushed him. The bridge had a one-foot ridge on one side, and it took considerable effort to lug his body over it. First, his torso. Then, his legs were free, and he started to fall.
Lightning pierced the sky and a thundering boom rolled across the horizon. Crouching on the edge of the bridge, I watched him plummet. It felt like some kind of dark sacrifice. In the old days, that's what they used to do, sacrifices to the Dark River. I wiped a hand across my mouth and realized my whole body was shaking violently.
&nb
sp; But war was ugly, wasn’t it? And we were at war with these people.
I crossed back to the room with the blood on the window. There, I grabbed the feet of the second soldier. As I dragged him across the floor, I saw that his body was leaving smears of blood on the stone. More to clean up.
Grunting, I dragged the second corpse out onto the bridge. While I caught my breath, I stared out over the river. The distant lights of South Dovren twinkled far away in the rain.
Lightning struck again, touching down just across the river. On the fragmented bridge, I got down on my knees again. First the torso, arms and head. This soldier was heavier, and I grunted, straining. Then I lifted him by the legs until his hips slid over as well. He plunged, and as I watched him, fear slid through me. I thought for an insane moment I might jump.
Shivering, I ran back into the Tower of Bones.
Now, I needed some cloth to clean the stones. I hurried back into one of the servant’s rooms and snatched an old uniform. Rushing outside, I held it into the rain, so it soaked up the water. When it was drenched, I carried the sodden fabric back into the hall.
On my hands and knees, I started scrubbing the floor, rushing to get it done as fast as I could. I sopped it up with a second, dry uniform.
When I finished, I tossed the blood-soaked uniforms into the river. My legs still felt weak, shaky, but I closed all the doors. I left behind the room where my sister might have died.
And as I walked down the stairs, I slid my hand into my pocket, running it over Alice’s charm necklace.
In the courtyard I kept to the shadows, making sure that no one would notice me if they were to look outside. I peered back at the Tower of Bones, swallowing hard. Then, I climbed the wall again, trying to forget the dizzying feeling of watching those soldiers plummet.
I’d left the armory window open a crack, and all I needed to do was swing it open.
I felt numb as I crept inside. Once my feet hit the old wooden floor, I turned to close the window behind me.
I waited a moment, listening for signs of movement in the castle. But it seemed completely silent tonight, and I heard not a footstep. I exhaled a sigh of relief, trying to stay focused.
But as I started to walk through the armory, my blood went cold. The sound of guards talking floated through the hall. Quickly, I slipped behind one of the suits of armor. Quieting my breath, I pressed my back against the mirror. The torches guttered on the wall.
Where was that draft coming from? I was sure I’d closed the window properly.
I could hear their voices moving closer. In my hiding spot, if they came in for a quick look in the armory, they might miss me. But if they were doing a thorough search, they’d catch me here.
I swallowed hard. They were speaking in Clovian, so I couldn't understand what they were saying. But their voices were loud, agitated, echoing off the walls. It must be after one, though I’d lost track of the time. I wasn’t sure how many people strode around the castle at night, but I imagined that by this point, they’d found the two sleeping guards outside my room. And with that, the fact that I was missing.
I’d never planned to take this long, but nor had I planned to kill two people and clean up the mess.
Behind the knight’s armor, I slid my gaze toward the entryway, and my heart kicked up a notch as I watched two soldiers cross into the armory. I could stay very still in the shadows, hoping they missed me in the dim light. But I heard the sound of more soldiers coming, more frantic voices in the hall.
With my pulse racing, I watched as a guard started searching the other side of the room—very closely. Peering behind the armor on the other side. Behind the tapestries. I was lucky that the armor was enormous, but if they looked closely, it was all over.
As soon as they turned to inspect this side, I'd find myself at the wrong end of five swords.
21
Lila
My breath quickened. Closing my eyes, I turned to knock against the wall, to ask the Raven King for help. As I did, I caught a glimpse of my hair caught in the air, as if the wind were toying with it. I wondered again where the wind was coming from.
From beneath the mirror. There was a cool draft coming up my legs.
I’d heard once that castles had secret passages, and perhaps I’d just found one. When the Albian kings had gone to war with the warrior monks, both sides had carved secret tunnels and passages over Dovren.
My gaze slid down the mirror’s gilt frame. And on the right side of it, an onyx raven was set into the wood.
I went very still, and faintly I thought I heard the sound of whispering coming from the mirror, a language both familiar and foreign at the same time. Ancient Albian. This was an entrance, wasn’t it?
I pressed the stone raven, and held my breath as something unlatched.
With one last look back at the soldiers, I pressed against the mirror and felt it move, sliding silently into a dark space. I inched it open as slowly as possible so I wouldn't make a noise, my heart in my throat.
Then, I slipped into a cold, dark passage. Once inside, I closed the door behind me. I let out a long breath and knocked against the wall, giving silent thanks to the Raven King for the second time that night.
Because I believed in ghosts, and I felt like his spirit had led me in here, somehow.
In the armory, the soldiers’ voices were rising to frantic shouts. I felt around in the dark, wishing I still had that candle.
I felt only a dank sludge covering the walls. When I turned and took a tentative step, I realized stairs were rising up before me. So I pressed my hands to either side of the slimy walls for balance, and started to climb. Eventually, the sounds of the soldiers started to fade, and my heart rate slowed down.
No idea where this passage led, but it was away from the immediate threat.
As I walked, occasionally, my hand would slide against wood, as if doors or passages interrupted the walls.
As I went further up the stairs, slivers of firelight shone through tiny cracks in the rocks and the stone.
With sore legs, I climbed the stairs until I reached what I thought was the top floor. Now what?
Up here, a hall branched off from the landing. I felt my way around, following the tiny beams of light piercing the stone. I stopped to look through one of the cracks. It appeared to be a ballroom, long disused. A ray of silver light had broken through the clouds, and beamed through great windows towering over columns and a flagstone floor.
When I got to a brightly lit room, I peered inside to find great tapestries hanging on the wall, embroidered with colorful thread, flecked with gold. They depicted men and women in lewd poses, with deep sapphire blues depicting the sky and the phases of the moon.
As I stared at the room, a flicker of movement caught my eye, and I realized it was Sourial, rising from the bed. Shirtless, he strolled over to the piano and sat down and began to play. Mournful music wended through the castle—beautiful and agonizingly sad. I felt like my heart was breaking just listening to it, and Alice came into my mind again. Alice standing in an old church ruin near the castle, the grass up to her knees, and butterflies fluttering around her.
I wanted to keep listening, but I had to keep going until I found a way back to my room.
I moved farther down the hall, until I saw another bright ray of light slanting through the stone. I peeked through, finding a great hall that looked like it was carved out of bone. I couldn’t see much from here, just walls of ivory, and a flagstone floor dappled with moonlight that streamed in through windows. When I pressed my hands against the wall, I felt the power of the Blessed Raven pulsing through it. Here, I felt connected to something larger—a sense of timelessness that flowed from the hall.
But it wasn’t my room, and that was where I had to be.
Reluctantly, I pulled my hands away to keep walking.
Another ray of light. There, I caught a glimpse of stacks of books.
The sound of a door creaking interrupted my thoughts, then footstep
s.
I held my breath as Samael walked into my view, prowling into the library with his cowl over his head. He was almost feral in his precision and speed. Was he there when she died in the Tower of Bones? The destroying angel, Death Incarnate.
I had to be prepared to seduce him, so I could kill him if I had to. For the good of Albia.
Tomorrow, the count wanted to spy on the Free Men. I didn’t know anything about them—only that they called themselves patriots, and at least some of them were rich. But if Finn was involved, I wanted to get a warning to them first.
I felt around in the passage and found a wooden door to my right. I was half tempted to burst in there, to hold my dagger to his throat and demand answers. What happened to Alice? Did he kill the servants?
But this wasn’t the best course of action. I’d never be able to seduce him if he knew I wanted him dead.
I stared as Samael pulled off his cloak. The view of his perfect face made me catch my breath, and somehow made me hate him more. It was like his divine features, and those large pale eyes, only made him seem more lethal. The sharp, high cheekbones, the square jaw.
He was dressed in expensive clothing that showed off his body. And when he unbuttoned his shirt, I found my nails piercing my palms. The torchlight in the room wavered over a powerful warrior's chest, thickly corded with muscle. In the warm light, his hair gleamed auburn, skin gold.
Raven King, give me strength.
He started pacing the room, one hand over his jaw. Then his head turned sharply to the place where I stood, gray eyes gleaming, ice cold. With a predatory gait, he stalked over, like he was looking at me right through the stone—like he was going to tear down the wall between us.
I held my breath as he pressed his hands against the wall, staring at me. Not meant for mortal eyes …
There was no way he could actually see me in here, in the dark, was there?
The Fallen (Hades Castle Trilogy Book 1) Page 11
