Chapter 25
The brim of the hat hangs heavy over my brow, blocking the sunlight from shining across my face as we weave through Sarenia, keeping to the less frequented streets. I glance sideways at Kressa, her hair tucked into the cap of her hat.
Shadows crest over us, and the castle rises into the sky—the snowcapped mountain hovering behind it.
“You know, you should have told me you were Harriet,” Kressa says. “I would have helped you.”
“It would’ve made it all that more painful when you betrayed me.”
She blinks, setting her gaze on the castle gates. “I guess we’re both capable of betrayal.”
My tongue turns to cotton, and I adjust my hat. My first act of betrayal was slitting her throat when she was glamoured as her brother, and hers was arresting me after The Gales. But little does she know, she’s given me no choice but to betray her again.
A stab of guilt pierces my chest, but I shove it away. It’s her doing that caused me to seek Isolde’s help.
Guards line the opening to the courtyard, standing watch as people pass through. I scan their faces, trying to place them, but come up empty. They must be Callum’s, then.
“Are you ready?” Kressa whispers.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We dip our heads and pass into the courtyard. The guards don’t so much as look our way. I suppose that’s the appeal of being an employed criminal, someone deemed lesser—people act as if you’re invisible. Unthreatening.
But at the soaring wooden doors leading to the foyer, entrants form two lines.
“Identification cards,” a guard calls from the doors, his voice booming across the courtyard.
Bodies shuffle, and the crowd constricts around us. Someone bumps into me, and I stumble sideways, clutching at the hat on my head. Pirates and nobles alike fill my vision, and I dip my head at the disturbance—should anyone look too close. A moment passes, and I straighten, turning on my heel.
Kressa is nowhere to be found.
My stomach pitches, and I push through the crowd, scanning each face for her. I open my mouth to call her name, but clamp it shut. If I called out for her, it could give us away. I can’t do anything to draw attention to myself.
Elbows ram into my sides, and a guard at the door stiffens, eyeing the commotion.
He steps away from the door and toward the crowd—eyes pinned on me as he pushes people out of the way.
A hand clamps around my wrist, and I swallow a yelp as Kressa’s eyes meet mine.
“Side door,” she says.
She jerks me sideways, and I lower my head as we weave through the crowd toward the servant’s entrance at the western side of the castle. I spare a glance over my shoulder, where the guard stands in the center of the crowd.
“I think he recognized me,” I say as we swing around the corner of the castle, the roofline bathing us in deep shadows.
“Then we’d better hurry before he decides to tell someone else.”
She jerks open the door, and a handful of maids jump, clutching baskets of linens against their chests. The one closest to us meets my gaze.
“Briar?”
I stumble into the corridor wall and brace myself as the other maids look closer. Isolde’s maids.
“Where’s Isolde?” I push myself from the wall.
Kressa narrows her eyes, tugging me down the hallway.
The maid closest to me shakes her head. “Isolde isn’t here.”
My heart stutters, and Kressa jerks me forward.
She lowers her mouth to the shell of my ear as we wind through the servant’s corridors. “Why in the fates would you ask that?”
“So we can avoid her,” I snap. “Do you even have an idea of where to look for the emerald? We have an hour if we’re lucky, and it could take an entire week to search this castle.”
Her grip on me tightens, and she studies me for a heartbeat. “An item so valuable would only ever be kept in one of two places. The throne room, or the study.”
I stumble to a stop. “We can’t. We’ll run directly into Callum, and if not him, an army of guards.”
“Thank goodness for the disguises, then.”
A pit opens in my stomach as she pulls me behind her, weaving deeper into the heart of the castle. What she has planned—she knows we won’t go unnoticed. I have to get to my old quarters, but every step we take closer to the throne room, the farther we get.
“I need to search the dungeons,” I say, too quickly. “For Inez.”
“We go there after I find the emerald.”
I shake my head. “We have to split up.”
Her footsteps don’t slow, and voices grow louder, coming from just the other side of the wall. The hair lifts on the back of my neck.
“If we split up, we double our chances of getting caught.”
“And double our chances of finding what we came for.”
Anger floods the bond, and she whips around, her face an inch away from mine. “If it were up to me, you wouldn’t have stepped a foot in the castle. Make no mistake, if you ruin this, I won’t hesitate to leave you behind.”
I lift a brow. “And what would your father say about that? If you returned without me, and he finds out Gemma was a fake.”
She scoffs. “He’d think you escaped from my quarters. And if that’s the case, the rest of your crew wouldn’t last the day.”
I clench my hands into fists, the rhodium tightening around my knuckles. She tilts her head, daring me to argue, but I press my lips into a thin line. She knows I’ll do anything to protect my crew.
“Glad we came to an agreement,” she says, striding toward the voices.
She slows to a stop and drags her fingers along the wall. They dip into a seam, and she glances at me over her shoulder. “Keep your head down.”
I hold my breath as she eases the door open a sliver. Light spears through the gap, and the voices grow louder, echoing through the hallway.
She peers out and pulls it open the rest of the way.
The hinges groan, bouncing off the walls, and we step into the main hall—marble columns sweeping high above our heads.
I blink against the harsh light flowing through the windows, and in the center of the hall, two wooden doors sit propped open, leading to the grand hall.
“Perfect,” she says. “It must be some sort of gathering. If Callum is busy in there, we shouldn’t have a problem sneaking into the other—”
“Can I help you two?”
Ice fills my veins, and my spine goes stiff as a shadow hovers over us.
I turn on my heel, slowly, and come face to face with a royal guard.
“Guests of the King’s,” Kressa says, an unfamiliar accent to her voice.
The guards lifts a brow, and I duck my head as he studies us. “You mean the Queen? She’s the one hosting today’s gathering.”
My heart somersault to a stop. Kressa stiffens beside me, and before the guard has a chance to speak another word, Kressa rips a dagger from her belt and plunges it into his throat.
Blood sprays across the floor, pooling in his mouth as he gags and sputters. He crumples to his knees, clutching at the wound, and falls forward, his face slamming into the marble.
“But the maids said—” I sputter.
“The maids lied.”
Another pair of guards stride out from the grand hall, and our gazes lock.
“Run,” Kressa breathes.
She takes off in the direction of the throne room. I stumble backwards, my eyes locked on the men striding closer as they unsheathe their blades. If Isolde is in the grand hall, I should run toward her, but I’ve been found with blood on my hands—splattered across my shirt.
And I have to find Inez.
“Stop!” the guards call.
I glance sideways at the hidden door, then at Kressa.
She doesn’t look for me to follow. Won’t know if I’ve been caught by the guards.
Lunging sideways, I dip back into the servant’s corridor and slam the door behind me. My heart is a death knell in my ears, and I sprint forward, my eyes struggling to adjust to the dim lighting.
But even if my eyes were closed, I’d know the way to the dungeon.
I round a corner in the hall, my boots steady on the slick floor, and fling myself down the corridor. Somewhere behind me, a door opens, and shouts ring out—the guards. But I keep my gaze steady, pumping my arms.
Guilt gnaws at my chest, stinging and aching. If they get a hold of Kressa, her fate would be far worse than mine. But we both have responsibilities that go far beyond what we want. And she’s willing to kill me for hers.
Footsteps echo off the walls, but they grow distant—heading in the opposite direction. Sweat gathers at my nape, and a steep set of stairs branch off to the left. I throw myself down, taking the steps two at a time, clutching the railing as the lanterns cast a dim glow over the marble
The air grows thicker, damper, and the staircase levels out at a landing. The tread on my boots slips over the stone, but I hold myself upright and sprint toward the dungeon.
It’s likely the guards didn’t recognize me—given my short hair and the hat shielding the better half of my face. But that means they’d only be quicker to kill me. At this point, I wouldn’t be a valuable prisoner.
I slow, scanning the wall for a doorway. It was rare I frequented this part of the castle, but in the early years I mapped out the pathways, just in case.
Firelight glints against metal, and a handle juts from a narrow wooden door. I wrap my hand around it and ease it open. Through the hairline gap, two guards stand on either side of the dungeon doors with twin blades strapped over their shoulders.
I hold my breath, flexing my hands against the rhodium gloves.
My fingers dance over the hilt of the dagger Kressa gave me, and I pull it from the sheathe.
I can’t risk taking off my gloves, and I don’t have Gemma’s glamour to help me.
But it wouldn’t be the first time I took down two guards on my own.
My pulse races in my ears. Adjusting the blade in my grip, I ease the door open, silently, and—
The castle trembles.
Small rocks and debris fall from the ceiling, and I slink back into the shadows as the guards exchange a look. A shout comes from somewhere in the distance, and a chill snakes over my body.
Kressa. She must be using her power.
The bond snaps taut, urging me toward her, but I swallow and force my mind from it. She can take care of it herself, and this is just the distraction I need.
A blast comes from the heart of the castle, and the floor beneath my feet rattles. The guards exchange a handful of hushed words, nodding, and one of them leaves, running toward the disturbance.
I steady my breathing, counting the seconds until the guard is well out of earshot, then burst through the door. Before the remaining guard has a moment to register what’s happening, I drag the blade across his throat.
Blood sprays my face, and I wipe it away with the sleeve of my borrowed shirt. He crumples to the floor without a sound, and I bend over, unhooking the keys from his belt.
“Give Caelus my regards,” I mumble, slipping the key into the lock.
I heave the door open and slip inside, my footsteps light as I sprint down the spiral staircase.
It’s only been a handful of days since I was last here with Kressa, yet it feels like a lifetime.
She now seems so different from that brave, unforgiving woman who released an entire dungeon of prisoners.
Stagnant water splashes up my ankles and drenches the hem of my pants, shaking the thought of her from my head. I press forward until shadows shift behind the metal bars.
“Inez?” I say, my voice soft, yet carrying through the cavernous space.
Chains rattle, and a cough echoes off the walls.
“Who’s there?” a voice croaks.
I shift forward, following the voice. In my periphery, I can barely make out the whites of the prisoners’ eyes as they track me.
“Briar Calisdana. I’m looking for Inez, my missing crew mate.”
Gasps and whispers come from behind the bars, followed by mumbles I can’t quite make out.
“Has anyone seen her?” I say.
“Aye,” that same voice says, thick and garbled. “But she’s not down here. They took her somewhere else, more isolating, I heard.”
My stomach churns, and it’s everything in me to stay upright. The open-faced cells overlooking the sea. The same ones I nearly lost my sanity in. And I was only there for one night. If I don’t get her out soon, she might never be the same.
“Are you getting us out?” another voice says, closer this time.
I twist, and my eyes slowly adjust to the dark. A boy with crystal blue eyes looks at me, his face so young he might not remember the time before I was cursed.
The keys weigh heavy in my hand. I’m running out of time, and with guards swarming the castle, I risk being caught sneaking to the other prison. But if I can get my compass first, then find Isolde, it might work.
And I can’t leave my people to rot in this dungeon.
Another shudder rocks the castle, and I straighten my spine. “Every last one of you.”