Chapter 21 #3
What had the creature promised Asahi to make him turn on us and let Centipede take over? Or had it found the fear it needed already in Asahi’s mind, the fear that something would tear him and his love apart? That he or Sagam would die before they had ever truly lived?
In the dark above us, I could feel footsteps and murmurs, echoes through the black rock, voices that whispered of missing guild members. I couldn’t speak Krustavian, but their words echoed in my ears as though spoken in Northern.
“Do you think he would really—”
“There are ears everywhere, don’t—”
“I couldn’t bear to—”
I could hear the snuffle of badger noses, the scrape of their claws as they walked through their own tunnels, their minds worried about their kin who had disappeared in Centipede’s greed.
Guards ahead, but if we walked slowly enough, we would avoid them.
And deeper, deeper in the mine, the whisper of something else, something that had snapped and eaten at Centipede, and the One Dragon might have dropped a mountain on him to trap the animalia, but she had trapped him with something. And that thing was hungry.
Tallu’s fingers pinched my shoulder, gripping so hard that it nearly bruised. His fingers moved from my shoulder to my jaw. He turned my face in his hand, frowning as he squinted, seeing something in my eyes that made his eyebrows twitch, his mouth open slightly.
But we couldn’t risk our voices in the tunnels.
Even though all I wanted was to hear his voice, the throaty rumble that sent shivers up my spine and made every nerve come alive as though I had frozen in the snow and he was the fire bringing me back, I knew that I couldn’t risk his life for that need.
He tilted his head, his question so clear in the dim light from the rocks that it was nearly as loud as Centipede’s voice in my head. I shook my head in response. I would be fine.
His frown deepened, his brows pulled together sharply, and he pinched my chin between his fingers.
I made a face, and he pinched harder, pulling me closer, his lips brushing against my ear, the warmth of his breath enough to make me lose all sense as well as the focus that Yor?mu had drilled into me.
He pressed a soft kiss to my temple, and I shut my eyes, my entire world focused on his lips, on his breath. I exhaled. Pulling back, he looked at me again, and I nodded. I was focused. I was alight with it.
I led us through the dark, avoiding the guards I’d heard, ignoring Centipede’s whispers, his promises.
I had seen the threads of fate that bound Prince Hallu.
Centipede lied and lied and lied, promising he could free Tallu.
He could not free either heir of House Atobe; only Spider from her web in Tavornai could do that.
The blood monks warned us of a group of miners in the halls, and we waited, frozen in the corner of a cavern, for them to pass.
I stayed perched on the balls of my feet, ready to move if I had to kill them all.
Their bones are made from the rocks of mountains, I reminded myself.
I could not risk chipping my blade. I would have to be careful, swift, and precise.
They passed us by, their footsteps loud compared to ours. When they talked to each other, I couldn’t understand them, and I felt uncertainty creep into my gut. I’d understood what they said when I was listening through the black rock, meaning at least one of Centipede’s promises had been true.
We moved through the tunnels, our feet whisper-soft, and the thrum in my bones led us back toward the throne room.
We stopped in the doorway of the room where we had shared tea and food with Koque. I nudged both of them inside, aware that Koque’s harsh speech the day before indicated there was black rock somewhere in this room. Once inside, I pointed at the chairs, indicating they should stay behind.
Tallu’s answering glare was fierce and sharp. He shook his head once.
I pointed to myself, tapping my own chest before drawing a sharp blade.
He continued to try to roast me to a crisp with his eyes alone, so I leaned forward, pushing onto my toes to whisper into his ear.
“Let me be your assassin.” I dropped back onto my soles and Tallu looked struck, his eyes searching my face before he closed them.
Finally he nodded, and I exhaled, the pain in my chest easing. He’d be safe away from Centipede inside the Shadow King and Inor with Irad?o to guard him.
Closing my eyes, I let myself remember all the steps we had taken between this room and the throne room. The whispers in the back of my mind and the pull in my bones told me that was where I would find King Inor, but the images I had of the room were confused, broken.
I let my mind grow closer to Centipede, trying to see it through his eyes, knowing that there was no way for me to approach without King Inor and the animalia inside him seeing me—the door was open, Inor so confident in his own power that he had no need for it.
So I would have to be fast, faster than he was.
One knife thrown from the doorway, another while I was running, and then my blade across his throat.
I played it and replayed it in my mind, looking for flaws, but Inor wasn’t Tallu. He didn’t have well-trained Dogs at his disposal, ready for any sort of attacker. With the powers of the animalia behind him, Inor was confident that he didn’t need personal guards.
When I was sure I was ready, I checked my throwing knives, testing the draw on my wolf’s claw. Then I slipped out of the room.
I was so silent as I moved down the hallway that I was half sure I was another ghost in Tallu’s memory.
Then I saw the black rock surrounding the throne-room doorway.
The door, once so heavy, so impossible for us to move, hung off its hinges, the center warped as though something had punched through it, trying to get out.
My gut clenched. That hadn’t been in my vision, but I couldn’t risk losing a chance at cutting the head off the beast through hesitation.
Peeking around the corner, I could see the outline of Inor on his Shadow Throne. He didn’t move, his head bowed as though he had fallen asleep on his throne, and I couldn’t trust the image, but Centipede’s voice whispered and whispered and whispered.
I threw my first blade before entering the room, exactly as I had imagined it, my feet almost as fast as the spinning silver as I darted across the darkened room.
The blade hit him in the center of his chest, where his ribs met.
I had already thrown another, the second landing in his throat.
In three steps, I was atop the dais. My blade was ready, I was ready.
My sword cut Inor’s throat a moment before I realized my error. Inor was already dead.
His head fell to the ground, bouncing from step to step, rolling to a stop at General Maki’s feet. He grinned. “Hello, little assassin.”