Chapter 35 Nox
Nox
Too late.
Igrowled and crumpled the parchment in my grip. Squeezing Tempest with my knees, Kieran and I took off from the nearest village down to Scarven’s property.
What did Devora mean, she’d found the Hollow? That hadn’t even been a goal for tonight. She was still gaining Scarven’s trust. There was no way he’d given her this information so freely.
Which meant she’d gone where she wasn’t supposed to. Probably risked getting herself killed. And now she was heading there unprotected, like the stubborn woman she was.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath as we raced closer to the mansion.
“You know what I find rather amusing about it all?” Kieran asked at my side, voice stilted from the horse’s movement.
“What?” I snapped.
“That you would do the same thing in her position.” A smirk appeared on his chiseled features.
I scowled and gripped the reins tighter as we sliced through the trees at the perimeter of Scarven’s mansion.
The stables were on the far west side, at the outskirt of the main property.
They were massive, large enough to house not only Scarven’s herd of horses but several of his carriages too.
We didn’t often venture that far in our raids.
All the entrances to the underground cells we knew about were to the east and south of the mansion.
What if this was a whole new section of laboratories? Of dungeons and cells full of people who needed our help?
What if my sister was down there?
I urged Tempest faster until we reached the edge of the tree line, when I tugged on the reins to halt her.
The enormous stables just beyond the forest were lit by moonlight and a couple of guards with torches standing outside them.
Two carriages were stationed at the back in a line, waiting their turn to enter the stables.
When I homed in on them, I heard dozens of hearts beating, but they were slow and sluggish, barely conscious.
Accompanying them were the sounds of labored breaths and the scent of blood and sweat.
More prisoners.
I nudged Kieran’s arm and pointed, then froze.
A flash of red hair peeked out from behind the last carriage.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I grumbled. “Stay here, Kieran. I’ll whistle if I need you.”
Dismounting, I pulled Scarven’s enchanted ring from my pocket.
I didn’t want to use it in case he could detect it, but without an Illusionist, I was running out of options.
I slipped it over my finger and felt the pressure form on my chest as the spell snapped into place, and my body faded into my surroundings.
With as little noise as possible, I crept across the open grounds and to the stables, my vexation growing by the second. She was going to get herself killed. What was she thinking, coming out here on her own?
I approached her silently from the back, wrapping one hand around her mouth and pulling her into the shadows of the carriage. My hand muffled her gasp of surprise. She jerked against my hold, but I used my other hand to rip off my ring and reveal myself.
“Do you have a death wish, darling?” I hissed into her ear.
She shook her head free, and I lowered my hand. “I didn’t want to lose their trail,” she said.
“You could have waited for us.”
She shrugged. “You took too long.”
This woman. “What happened?”
“I was with Scarven, and one of his guards came to tell him he was needed at the Hollow. So Everett and I left the party. I used my shadows to find this place,” she finished with a whisper, brandishing an arm toward the stables.
“And where is dear Everett?” I asked. I was going to kill him for letting her do this.
“He’s pretending to be me.” She twisted her head to look at me and raised an eyebrow. “You know Scarven is having me followed. We needed everything to appear normal. Don’t give me that look.”
“I’ll give you whatever look I want when you go running off in the middle of the night to chase the most dangerous man in the empire,” I growled.
“And here I thought that was you,” she shot back.
My dragon thrummed with pride, begging to prove she was right. But as I was about to respond, the carriage we were hiding behind lurched forward.
“Oh, alright—this is happening now,” Devora mumbled, nearly losing her balance as we stumbled to move along with the wheels.
“Maybe you should’ve thought about that earlier,” I whispered.
“Let’s save the bickering for when we’re not hiding from a maniac, shall we?
” she tossed over her shoulder, then jerked forward with a gasp when the carriage moved again.
I instantly reached out and grabbed her waist. A ripping sound punctuated the air as her cloak, which had gotten stuck under the wheel, tore up to her sleeve.
She spun on her heel to shrug it off before it took her with it.
I stopped in my tracks.
That dress.
It was black as midnight, a sharp contrast to her hair. It flowed down to her calves, and the material looked as soft and smooth as the skin of her thigh peeking out underneath. My hand flexed at my side with the effort it took not to wrap my fingers around her leg.
She smirked. “Not so mouthy now, I see.”
“Just—go,” I grunted. “Stick to the carriage.”
“Hold on,” she said, then tied the bottom of her dress into a knot. Together, we crouched low and followed the carriage, edging closer to the stables.
“What was your brilliant plan here, anyway?” I asked.
She flashed me a wry grin over her shoulder. “For you to come save me.”
I shook my head but couldn’t help the way my lips tugged upward. “For the record, that’s a terrible plan.”
“You came, didn’t you?”
“I’ll always come, Devora.”
The carriage stopped, and so did we. She turned to face me, her eyes scanning mine. Her expression was guarded, hesitant, and a little something more that I couldn’t quite place.
“Two more to go,” a rough male voice said from up ahead inside the stables, making us both jump.
“Doesn’t he know it’s the middle of the night?” another grumbled. “Why does he have to inspect each by hand?”
“Wants to see how they’ll respond to fatesprig. You’re new here, but you’ll learn how the boss is. Very particular about his subjects. Most end up going to the cells on the south side anyway. Only a few stay here at the Hollow.”
Devora and I exchanged equal looks of revulsion. They spoke about these prisoners as if they were objects. Goods to be handled and stored instead of innocent people stolen from their homes.
But we’d learned something. Several somethings. This was, in fact, the entrance to the Hollow, and it was where Scarven kept his fatesprig and those he tested it on.
She found it.
The place we didn’t even know we were looking for. This could change everything.
The carriage right in front of us rolled forward into the stables. I peered around the front, assessing the number of guards.
“Can you use your shadows to keep yourself hidden?” I murmured to Devora.
“I can try. Why, what are you doing?”
I took out my ring. “This will camouflage me. I’m going to sneak in and see what we’re working with.”
“I want to come,” she said immediately.
I hummed. “It’s good to want things, darling.” Then I shoved the ring on my finger and disappeared.
I entered the wide stables. The opposite side contained a dozen stalls, all housing Scarven’s horses, while the side closest to the entrance was completely empty. Except for—
A giant trap door, straight in the center of the floor.
It had two doors that opened upward. Large piles of hay and dirt rested on either side, as if they’d been moved to uncover the hidden passageway. A set of stairs led from the ground deeper under the earth. Echoes of movement, voices, and groans reached my ears from as far down as it went.
The Hollow. Hidden in plain sight.
The two guards we’d heard talking stood at the carriage ahead of Devora, and I quickly made sure she was still blocked from their view before turning back to them.
Each had a sword strapped across his back and two daggers protruding from their waistbands.
One of them put several herbs to his lips and whispered a spell over the opening in the ground.
It was more than likely warded and needed a certain enchantment to get inside. I filed the spell away to tell Silas.
The other one yanked open the carriage door and dragged out half a dozen prisoners one by one, all bound together with black metal cuffs. The youngest one appeared to be around eight, while the oldest was in their twenties.
So young. All of them, so very young.
My hackles rose at the sight. Blood boiled beneath my skin, making my hands tremble and my nostrils flare.
I wanted to rip off the guards' heads and whisk these innocent people back to their homes.
I wanted to race down those steps, grab Scarven by the throat, and sink my teeth into him until his blood coated my hands.
I took a steadying breath and tried to calm my wrath. I had to play this smart, like Kieran would. Level-headed. I couldn’t give myself or Devora away. We’d found the Hollow, so we could come back with better resources and make a coordinated strike. For now, my priority was these prisoners.
Walking back to Devora, I whispered, “Can you create a distraction?”
She jumped at the sound of my voice. “A distraction? I barely know what I’m doing with this magic.”
“You can do it, Devora. We just need something that will draw the guards away from the carriages.”
She nodded and bit down on her lip. “Right. I’ll think of something. Then what?”
“I’m going to signal for Kieran. Get this back carriage full of prisoners”—I motioned to the one we knelt next to—“unhooked from the front one and attach it to Kieran in his stag form. He’ll pull it out. I’ll worry about the other carriage.”