Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
Northcliff
“You might as well go back inside,” Pierce says. “I’d do a better job of keeping watch with my eyes closed.”
I give him the finger. “If only you could manage it with your mouth shut as well.”
“Boys, boys,” Benny chides. “You’re allies.”
Pierce and I let out identical huffs of displeasure, and I lean a little heavier against the stone wall as his grandfather gives us an indulgent look.
Sure, keeping watch on the wall is boring, but it doesn’t have to be this bad. When Dakari and I are up here, he usually takes the opportunity to teach me shit. I’m nowhere near as useless as I was.
I’d give anything to have the quiet man here now. Instead, I’m stuck with Pierce. He’d rather spend the time trading insults.
It’s a shame, because apparently, he’s decent at the school of magic I need to master to become parriarch. If he weren’t a prickly asshole, he might actually be able to show me something. Or at least explain what the runeforms glowing on either side of his eyes do.
Is it a spell to give him super vision? Benny hasn’t questioned it, so I’m betting it’s one of those things that’s common knowledge to everyone except me.
“They’re not here yet,” Pierce grumbles, resting his elbows on the stone to my right. “Enforcement isn’t usually this incompetent.”
“I can’t imagine anyone was rushing for corpse duty,” I say.
“It’s disrespectful,” Benny agrees sombrely. “But not unexpected, given the state of their ranks at the moment.”
The remains of the men and women Isidora killed are lined up a fair distance from the wall, shrouded in white sheets. Halinor reached out, offering to hand over the dead days ago, and it wasn’t until this morning that enforcement actually replied.
“You know something.” Pierce’s tone turns mildly accusing.
Benny rubs the back of his neck. “Not much. It appears I may have miscalculated. Your mother had more of their leadership under her thumb than I anticipated. Now most of my sources have gone dark. The original evidence I sent has been wiped from their servers…and those who talk about it are being fired or incarcerated.” He sighs.
“And her lackeys have done a brilliant job of scaring the McKinley girl off the internet, which gives more credence to the claims that she faked the attack.”
True. I bet Jasper is regretting ever letting Hazel get involved.
Pierce turns away, shifting to watch Owen and Helen, the two McKinleys stationed a little farther down the wall. “Should’ve just cremated them and returned the ashes to stop my mother turning them into puppets.”
I give him a healthy dose of side eye. “Does she do that often?”
Pierce’s shoulders inch higher, but his tone is lazy and dismissive as he replies, “We have some regular maids, and the butler was too useful to kill, but you try explaining away the number of bloodstains on the carpet to a living employee. The dead also don’t spill secrets.”
Benny shivers. “I should’ve forced you out of that house a lot sooner.”
“It was necessary.” The flatness in Pierce’s tone makes his grandfather’s lips thin.
Great. Stuck in the middle while they rehash this old argument. I glance over my shoulder towards the keep, frowning. Either Jasper and Lambert are working their magic on the Librarian, or she’s still asleep.
“What?” Pierce asks; then, when I don’t reply, he elbows me. “What?”
“I figured Kyrith would be awake and setting the place on fire by now.”
I may hate being stuck on a wall in the freezing cold with Pierce and Benny, but anything’s better than waking up a hungover Kyrith. I push off the wall. I need to move. Maybe walking will warm me up.
“I doubt the Librarian would do anything so uncouth,” Benny protests. “And what are you smiling about?”
The corner of Pierce’s lip quirks, like he’s in on some secret joke, and I raise my brow. He took Kyrith back to her room last night…while she was hammered…
“Did you two…?” I probe.
“No. She was drunk.” Pierce rolls his eyes like the very idea is preposterous. “But she can be…funny when she’s not guarded.”
Benny claps him on the back. “I’m glad you’re growing closer. Now, if only you could put the effort in with the rest of the heirs. You could have friends.”
Pierce groans. “I never said I wanted any.”
His grandfather releases him. “Humour an old man. It would do me good to stand at your wedding, knowing that everything I put you through didn’t stop you from finding love and companionship in life.”
I manage to smother my snort. Thankfully, Benny can’t see the way both of my brows have climbed up my forehead. To fuck with Pierce, I blow him a kiss behind the older man’s back.
“Wedding?” Pierce chokes. “I—”
“It’s good that she’s made of strong stuff. Anyone weaker would bore you. Do you think she’s considered children? I’m not opposed to being a great-grandfather, though I might be a little young…”
There’s an edge to the old man’s tone that makes it clear he’s having fun with this, but Pierce freezes, all amusement evaporating in a blink. His grimoire flops open beside him, runeforms flashing past as the pages blur.
“They’re here.”
I move closer, peering over the edge, but I don’t see anything. My cluelessness must show, because he sighs and taps the tiny glowing runeform by his right eye. “Cast a discernment spell. They’re keeping themselves covered.”
Grunting a thanks, I switch to the right page—Fuck!
My grimoire drops to the floor, forgotten as I fight to cover my ears.
The squealing siren blaring through the fortress has everyone on the wall bent double. It’s so shrill that it scrapes my skin like razor blades. Fuck. I can feel it in my teeth.
Pierce is doing something, but his ears are bleeding as he fights to stay standing under the onslaught.
Then it just…stops.
There’s a tug in my chest, and I don’t even have to think before I’m turning in its direction.
Kyrith.
Because who the fuck else would be able to single-handedly put down an attack like that so quickly?
Is she okay? Did that magic reach the keep?
Pierce has the same thought, because his body is angled away from the threat, even though his eyes remain fixed on the white shrouds beyond the wall.
Only the dead are gone.
In their place are hundreds of navy-uniformed enforcement officers, their grimoires open and glowing.
“Fucking hell.” The words are garbled, but then someone is there—one hand pressed into my forehead.
I brush them away, but it’s Owen, the quiet, burly McKinley who was on watch farther down the wall, and he’s not deterred.
“Stay still,” he orders.
It would be easier to do that if my ears didn’t ring with every syllable.
He doesn’t wait for me to follow his order. One incantation later, the stuffy pain in my skull eases.
Benny finishes casting the same spell on Pierce, who straightens. “We need to get to Kyrith.”
“Obviously, but what about them?” I gesture at the army on the doorstep.
“That spell could only have made it past these wards if someone inside was casting it,” Pierce’s hand is glowing. “They need to be stopped before they try again.”
Shit.
The sound has drawn a lot of attention. Our people rush to the wall, reinforcements pouring in.
Benny eyes them grimly. “The McKinleys have this in hand. We need to uncover the culprit before they cause more damage. Pierce, can you track the squalling spell?”
A trail of green is already snaking out of Pierce’s grimoire, forming a mist that blankets the inside of the fort, then narrows into a thin ribbon that winds away from him. His eyes follow the line, tracing it back towards the epicentre.
Towards the keep.
White noise fills my ears as all three of us take off running. This time it’s not a spell, just pure, unbridled terror.