Chapter 62
Belle
Locke escorted me through the castle’s somber halls. The hanging tapestries and cowering statues were all the same, yet Fellspire felt different. The undercurrent of despair seemed more suffocating than before, and the anger resonating in the walls a little closer to the surface.
Once, I’d assumed Valen was the cause of all the misery within these walls, but now I knew the truth: he was a victim, hiding from the world in a dour fortress.
It was easier when I could blame him for it all.
Locke walked at my side, watching intently out of the corner of his eye.
“What?” I asked at last.
His lips twitched with a smile. “You best prove the king’s trust in you correct. You know far too many dangerous things, and who knows what misery it might bring.”
“I promised to keep my mouth shut.”
Locke blocked my path, his voice pitched low and full of threat.
“See that you do. The king has many enemies. They’re kept at bay because they fear retribution from the king’s dragon.
If they knew they could kill the dragon by killing the king, this place would be crawling with assassins by sunrise—and frankly, I would prefer to keep him alive as long as I can. ”
“I won’t break his trust,” I said. “And I won’t tell anyone. Not Gregoire, not Loreli, not his brother.”
Locke’s warning hadn’t changed my intentions, but it had given me a chilling perspective. I’d assumed that if people knew the truth, they would be too terrified to face him. I hadn’t considered the opposite: killing him was the key to killing the dragon, two birds with one stone.
The high magister held my gaze a moment longer, probing if he could truly trust me, then, as if finally satisfied, he nodded and continued down the hall. “Good.”
I followed on his heels. Locke might be a bastard, but he was loyal—an attack dog, snarling at the end of his leash, always ready to say and do what Valen would not. As much as I hated that he doubted me, it was probably in the king’s best interest.
When we reached the entrance to the castle dungeons, Locke waved aside the guards, who moved without question or challenge. “Perhaps you can get the door for us, Lady Marquette.”
I repressed a flicker of a smile and lifted my hand, focusing my mind on the heavy iron door. Let us through.
The latch clanked open, and the door swung wide. Locke raised an approving eyebrow. “You no longer have to issue commands aloud, I see. That is a remarkable improvement.”
Damnit. I should’ve kept that development a secret.
“It doesn’t always work,” I said doubtfully as I followed him into the belly of the castle, our footsteps echoing on the well-worn stones.
The air grew cold and dank, overpowered by the scents of filth and burning torches. The warden’s station was at the base of the long stairwell. The dungeon guards snapped to attention, and the warden rose from behind his little table.
“Lady Marquette is here to retrieve the huntsman,” Locke said, then muttered, “Preposterous as that scenario is.”
The warden bowed to the high magister, then dipped his quill and scribbled in his large yellowing ledger, all the while eyeing me with recognition and more than a little suspicion.
I smiled sweetly at him. “Not used to repeat customers on this side, I gather?”
He sneered, then pulled out his heavy ring of keys and unlocked the main door.
“Enjoy your freedoms, Lady Marquette,” Locke said, turning to leave. “Just remember what we talked about.”
I had no intention of sharing Valen’s secrets. I owed him that much, and far more.
The stoic warden led me through the dark passages of the claustrophobic dungeon. My boots splashed through the thin puddles accumulating in the stones, and rats scurried away from the torchlight as we passed. The way the glow fell across the rough-hewn ceiling reminded me of Valen’s cave.
Did the cavern feel like a prison to him?
The dragon is a living, breathing cage around me.
I shuddered, the unbearable misery in his voice still resonating in my heart. I would find a way to free him, and all the beasts.
The dungeon’s cells were mostly empty, though here and there I caught a glimpse of a human form in the shadows, lying on a bench or huddled in a pile of straw in the corner.
Aside from an intrusive moan or cough, the beleaguered occupants regarded me silently with weary expressions, too defeated to cry out for help or mercy.
How long had they been imprisoned here? What crimes had they committed?
I grimaced at the thought of Marcel clinging to those bars. It seemed like a lifetime ago. The king had promised me that he’d released him and sent him safely on his way. Had that been the truth?
Marcel was an old man, and the road long and rough.
I buried the thought before it could take root. My duty was to the Bloodvale first, to stopping the beasts, and breaking the curse.
The warden paused before a cell near the end of the hall and began fumbling with his keys. I raised the one the king had given me, and the man’s face furrowed in consternation.
I moved close to the bars of the cell and peered inside. “Gregoire?”
The bedraggled man in the corner looked up, dark hair hanging around his tired face. For a second, he stared without comprehension, then jerked back, pressing himself against the far wall. “Stay away from me, you cursed woman!”
The shock of it nearly knocked me off my heels. “It’s me—Belle.”
“I know!” He jabbed his finger forward in accusation. “This is your fault. Do you have any idea what happened to me out there?”
I flinched. “They said that your horse…brought you back.”
“Is that what they told you?” He laughed, a terrified half-mad sound, as he stalked forward. “I’d thought I’d gotten away, but a day out, half a dozen beasts poured onto the road and drove me back toward the castle. The king’s riders met us halfway there and threw me in chains.”
Valen could only command the beasts in his dragon form. He must have sent the beast that had attacked us after he’d transformed.
“The tusk didn’t work?” I asked, my shoulders drooping as disappointment knotted within me.
Gregoire grasped the bars and glared. “Oh, the tusk kept the beasts back all right—about twenty feet. The gelding didn’t know a thing about its magic and nearly died of fright.
It didn’t stop running long enough for me to dismount—not that I had any mind to.
” He turned away, trembling. “I’ve never been so scared in my life. Pissed myself silly.”
My throat tightened. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” He ran his hands through his dark hair. “I’ve lost everything now. I had rooms bigger than my old house. I had immortals hanging off me everywhere I went. Now, I’m back in the cell with nothing.”
He flopped back down on his bench in a dejected heap. “And we failed, didn’t we? You’re here. I’m here. They got the tusk, and all the papers. It’s over.”
“We didn’t fail,” I said softly. “We might be hostages again, but I convinced the king to stand down. He’s promised not to kill Cassius and Ella, and the Crimson Host won’t attack.”
Gregoire looked at me incredulously, then barked out a laugh. “How big a fool are you? Do you really think you can trust him?”
Cracks spread through my certainty like a thawing lake. I shoved them away and straightened, trying to project a confidence I wasn’t sure I possessed. “I do.”
“By the gods, he has you wrapped around his fingers—not surprising considering the apparent size of his cock.”
I blanched. “We’re not—”
Gregoire shook his head. “You probably think you’re playing him, that you’ve seduced him. Here’s the truth—he’s a murderous bastard who’s playing you.”
“He’s—” Hell, I couldn’t believe I was defending the king. “He’s not as bad as he seems.”
“Come off it.” Gregoire sneered. “At least he gave you your freedom. What did you have to do to earn it? Let him drink your blood? Give yourself to him?”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “You ass.” Before I considered what I was doing, I formed a connection with the lavatory bucket in the corner of the cell, and it launched upward and smacked him in the face.
“Godsdamnit, Belle,” the scoundrel yelled, clutching his cheek. “That’s going to swell.”
The warden recoiled with a gasp, backing halfway down the hall. “Witch!”
It was the first thing I’d heard him say since arriving down here.
Gregoire closed his eyes for a moment as he rested his head back. “Thank the gods I pissed on the wall.”
My cheeks burned with sudden shame. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that—I’m still getting the hang of my magic. Sometimes, I think it’s more in control of me.”
He sat there for a moment before releasing a piteous laugh. “Hells, I probably deserved it. I was being a knave.” He sighed. “And I’ll admit, it’s an impressive trick.”
I gripped the bars. “Look, this conversation has gone all pear-shaped. I came to let you out. I negotiated your freedom with the king. You get your old rooms back, and all the same freedoms you had.”
He leapt to his feet and gripped the bars. “Are you serious? Why didn’t you say so from the start?”
“I didn’t get a chance,” I said defensively.
“Well, let me out, woman.”
I glared and let him writhe for a moment before I brushed my fingers over the lock. It clanged open, and the door swung out an inch.
The warden released a strangled noise from down the hall, somewhere between shock and outrage. “Witch!” he hissed a second time.
Gregoire looked from me to him. “I’m really free to go?”
The warden’s face was crimson with indignation, his ring of keys clutched so tightly in his hands that his knuckles had gone white. Not my problem if I’d stepped on his bureaucratic prerogative.
“Everything can go back to the way it was before,” I said, pulling the door wide. “As long as we don’t try to escape again.”
He skirted around me as if touching me would give him the pox. “Great. Fine. Whatever the king wants. I have no intention of ever leaving this castle—just don’t do anything to get me locked up again.”
“Gregoire—” I moved toward him, but he backed away. Apparently, Valen’s warning was still burning brightly in his mind.
Not wanting to chase him away, I folded my hands in front of me and took a step back. “Thank you for everything you did. You were really brave. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
His jaw tightened, his expression torn. “Look, Belle, you have a good heart—but when the king betrays it, don’t come crying to me. I appreciate you doing whatever you did to get me out, but after this, we’re done. No more favors, no more playing the hero. We’re even, and I’m out.”
He glanced once more at the warden, then hurried away toward the exit, leaving me alone amid the cells.
I clamped my jaw tight and tried to ignore the dull ache in my chest. The huntsman might be annoying as the day was long, but he’d stuck by my side when it mattered most, and now, it felt like I’d lost him—and with it, the last connection I had to my home.