Chapter 7 #2
At the top, we came to another metal door. Vad pressed his palm flat on the surface, then leaned his ear to the seam. After a moment, he pressed his hand against the small handle and eased the door open.
We emerged into what had once been a quiet seating alcove. A black velvet sofa sat untouched beside a black stone end table topped with a small sculpture of an obsidian wolf that had to be a representation of their shadow beast. The air stank of blood and metal.
The lamps flickered sporadically, casting moving golden pools across the floor. The gaps between the pools were thick with shadow.
Those pockets of darkness had my hair standing on end, worse than if the room had been pitch black.
We kept to the wall, moving in silence.
When we reached the cross corridor, we turned left, and the destruction hit like a punch to the chest.
Shattered doors. Blood smeared across the floors and walls. Lamp oil pooled like slick shadows across the floor. Furniture overturned like someone—or something—had given chase. Sculptures lay crumbled and vases smashed.
What part of the palace is this? My pulse ticked in my throat.
One of the hosting halls, Vad linked back.
Not all members of the royal families and dignitaries attend the ceremonies for weddings and coronations, often because they’re too young or ill or antisocial and would distract from the events.
Those people and their attendants stay here to rest for the duration of the event.
Then, later, when we have the feasts and celebrations, they participate as they are able or permitted.
Blood had dried in thick, coppery puddles, some no bigger than the size of a palm. Could they have started the attack during the coronation?
If they used silencing spells, yes, Vad responded. Something went wrong.
I swallowed hard. I think they were planning this the whole time. With all the high-ranking guests attending, the timing had been too perfect. This wasn’t just an opportunity ambush. This was done on purpose.
We passed a doorway where a strip of pale gray fabric clung to the splintered wood. I recognized it immediately.
Aureline guard cloak. Maybe this was where so many of the Aureline guards had been.
My stomach twisted.
It was too quiet. The sort of quiet that didn’t feel like an aftermath.
It felt like a warning. Like something was still here, watching and waiting.
Unease prickled down my spine.
Vad pointed ahead. “There.” His voice was barely a whisper.
A Shadow guard lay crumpled near the hallway’s edge, his helmet gone and his throat slit. His fingers were still curled around his sword. Just beyond him, another body lay still. Another guard with the same wound and fate.
Vad's gaze shifted to something at the edge of the next door. A dark smear across the floor. A blood trail.
At the start of it lay a single small, delicate blue shoe.
Heart racing, I stepped forward and picked it up. It was a high heel, embroidered in blue and spattered with blood. The inside was lined with velvet, and the outside sparkled with crystals. A polished sapphire water serpent wrapped around the toe, and a carved fin crowned the heel.
Blood had dried in specks across the leather and sole. Nausea roiled in my stomach. The shoe’s owner had run through blood.
“That’s one of the younger Aquen princess’s slippers.” Thalen sighed. “They’re the only ones allowed to wear sapphires like that.”
I surveyed the hallway. “Is there an exit near here? Maybe she got away.” It didn’t seem likely, but in a room full of blood and terror, I clung to the small hope. Especially since the shoe was so small—it seemed that this princess was only a child.
“No.” Vad flinched and pointed to the area where the drag marks disappeared. “That’s the way to the dungeons. It looks like she tried to flee, and they caught her.”
Thalen’s nostrils flared. “I can’t think of any reason to take one of the five Aquen princesses, unless it is a hostage situation.”
“Maybe they’re capturing all of the royals so they have no rivals. No one to speak against them.” That was what had happened back in my world, and what Ryker and Ember were trying to recover from. “It’s an illusion of peace.”
A flash of red caught my eye. Two pinpricks in the dark. Almost like someone had opened their eyes.
I stiffened, but when I blinked, they were gone.
Vad’s head snapped toward me. What?
Thalen scowled, tilting his head as he listened intently.
I thought I saw something. I bit my bottom lip. Red eyes in the dark. Then they disappeared.
I nodded toward the place where that flicker of scarlet had vanished. Something feels… off.
Vad stepped inside, hand hovering at his dagger. The lamplight glistened on his dark claws. Thalen tensed beside me, tracking every shadow.
Returning, Vad shook his head. “Nothing.” But the sharp line in his jaw told a different story.
We resumed our careful progress, each step quiet.
As we rounded another corner, I glanced behind us again.
My nostrils flared as I searched for any sign of danger.
These halls were even creepier. The sputtering torches gave off uneven, sluggish light, as if the palace were struggling to wake up.
The shadows kept shifting. Twice they seemed to move, but each time I looked harder, there was nothing there.
Maybe I was imagining it? My fingers flexed, and I curled them against my palm.
The uncomfortable sensation the stag had awakened pulsed hard in my chest, pressing through my veins like frostbite. My wolf growled in response.
Vad stopped at a small side door tucked between faded tapestries. He pressed his ear to the wood, then eased it open with a slight creak.
The air hit me like a slap, the sharp tang of blood mixed with the electric scent of medicinal herbs. But some other scent lay underneath it. A sweetness that wasn’t right.
Whose scent was that? I scowled, trying to place it.
The lamps inside had all guttered out except one at the far end of the chamber.
The soft yellow glow barely illuminated the nearest patient rooms, which held empty beds and scattered blankets.
There were no bloodstains here; it looked as if people had fled rather than been attacked.
So where was the smell coming from? My wolf bristled.
No bodies. No guards. Just a wet, sucking silence that felt too loud.
Vad stepped ahead, Thalen a pace behind him. Our footsteps made barely any sound as we edged forward. Each breath pressed tighter against my ribs.
We passed the two stone columns at the end of the hall, and Vad turned toward a circular room deeper in the Healing Hall.
The dark door was firmly shut, and he pressed it open.
A soft, glowing light came from farther back in the room, and Vad froze.
His entire body went rigid, and horror shot through our bond.