Chapter 20
Playing Games
‘Y ou’re late,’ a voice says as I step into the poison garden. The wind has picked up, a scatter of rain dashing across my cheekbones as I close the gate in my wake.
‘You’re lucky I came at all,’ I say with a shrug, fighting to keep my tone neutral, as Knox Darley steps from a shadow to block my path.
He’s about six feet away, too far for me to stab, but not far enough to outrun him if this turns sour.
I swallow, trying to make out his expression in the dim light from the moon.
‘I’m here; you got my attention. What do you want? ’
‘You got my note, DeWinter. You’re in danger,’ he says in clipped, precise tones that perfectly match his demeanour. ‘I’m not here to protect you. But I felt it was only right to inform you that, well, you’re my lure.’
‘Your what now? Your lure ?’ I ask, taken aback.
‘If you’re familiar with fishing terminology,’ he drawls, ‘it’s what you thread on the end of a rod—’
‘I’m aware of what a lure is. Explain what you mean about me being yours.’
He begins to pace, bouncing on his heels as he sweeps back and forth, eyeing me thoughtfully.
‘A year ago, I was a hopeful, just like you. In fact, I was two Ordeals in, about to complete the third when I was pulled away, shall we say, to hunt a creature that hadn’t been sighted in seven years.
A creature that had murdered several magic wielders quite ruthlessly.
I tracked that creature, and discovered that actually there is more than one.
You may remember meeting one on an assignment a month or so ago, before you arrived at Killmarth. ’
My blood suddenly runs cold. He knows about my past. He knows I went on assignments, which means he knows about the Collector. And Dolly. ‘You’re talking about the monster that killed my friend.’
‘Yes. Dolly Love,’ he says with a nod, ticking off information dispassionately on the fingers of his left hand. ‘Eighty-year-old female, a very weak illusionist, unshakable smoking habit. Used her ability mainly to entertain you with tricks and to cheat at cards.’
My breath stutters, fingers fluttering over my throat as I swallow, mind spiralling.
Has the Collector sent him? There would be no other way he’d know all of this about Dolly.
But if I’m wrong, if he’s never heard of him, then I’ll show my hand, and then this man, this stranger, will know even more than he does now.
I only have my secrets. Fear hardens like a pebble in my throat, but I refuse to show my hand.
I refuse to show him anything but steel.
‘She was more than a list of traits you can tick off on your fingers. Get to the point.’
He shifts a little awkwardly and when he speaks again his tone has softened.
‘My condolences.’ The sudden kindness in his tone squeezes my heart and my defences falter.
I blink, forcing away the image of her face, pinched with desperation in her final moments.
‘The point is, Sophia – may I call you that? I tracked one of them here. To Killmarth. Found it lurking in Marazia before I put a stake through its damn wretched thing it calls a heart. And I believe it followed you . You were there in Dolly’s final moments and confronted one of these creatures and killed it. You may have drawn their attention.’
‘How do you know about all this?’ I’m stunned. There was only myself, Banks and Dolly there that night – no witnesses, no outside interference.
‘Your driver, Banks, is partial to a tipple on a Friday night.’ Knox shrugs. ‘Didn’t take much to slip something into his pint of rhyn and get him talking about Dolly. Poor man.’
Bloody Banks.
I press my lips together and nod. ‘All right, I concede that this all fits. I encountered a cold one in the Morlagh in the first Ordeal. Similar to the one I killed on that assignment. So they’re after me.
Is that it?’ My laugh is a hollow bell in my ears.
To hear Knox found one in Marazia is disconcerting to say the least. ‘Excellent. So you’re here to what?
’ I continue. ‘Complete the Ordeals, and wait for more of them to reveal themselves? Use me as bait in the meantime to draw them out? Oh sorry, I mean a lure. If we’re sticking to fishing terminology. ’
‘Pretty much,’ Knox says with a shrug, ignoring my tone. ‘Only a matter of time before they lose patience and try to breach the wards of Killmarth to make a play for you. They feed on magic, in case you hadn’t figured that out. A veritable feast within these gates.’
‘And you think they’re after me because I killed one of their number?’
Knox shrugs. ‘It’s a working theory. In any case, they’re attracted to you.
And my purpose is to eradicate them, so here I am.
’ He smiles, indicating the air around him.
‘Although I must admit I’m not sad to be back.
Completing the Ordeals, becoming a full scholar, finally.
It beats the past year I’ve had running all over Theine in search of a cold one’s victims.’
‘They’ve killed a lot?’
The clouds shift above, the moon pooling silver around us as Knox’s features fold into a grimace. ‘Unfortunately. And knowing now what we do about there being more than first imagined in the territory, I wonder that there haven’t been more murders in Kellend.’
I suppress a shudder. ‘Who do you work for?’
‘Afraid I can’t tell you,’ he says with a wink. ‘You know how it is, Sophia. I’m sure if I asked you more about the Collector, the marks you put on his map, the lives you’ve set up to be taken at the bottom of the Serpentine … well, I imagine you wouldn’t be too chatty either.’
Fuck, he does know. He knows who I worked for, probably knows about the vault and the contract he made me sign. Damn Banks. Damn the fool. Knox may have come here tonight to warn me, but he knows far too much for comfort. My heart pounds like a drum as Knox just stands there, watching me.
‘Didn’t think so. We’ve all got our secrets, haven’t we? Wouldn’t want yours slipping out at some inconvenient moment, or poured into the wrong ear?’
I release a breath and run a hand down my face. He’s got me. ‘All right. So you’re going to slip in alongside me as a hopeful and keep tabs on my whereabouts. Because you think one of them will make a play for me.’
He shrugs. ‘I’m a patient man but I don’t think these vampires are.
They’re getting a bit forward in my opinion, getting sloppy.
Or possibly hungry. I don’t see how it’ll be too long.
Seem to like the Ordeals themselves, all that magic, all that fear, it must be intoxicating.
The next one’s in two days’ time, isn’t it?
Masquier’s ball, everyone wielding at once.
Not that the wards have been breached as yet, and I understand it’ll be within the walls of Killmarth. ’
I take a step back, snapping my chin up. I’ve heard enough. ‘If that’s all, I’m off.’
‘Not quite,’ he says abruptly. ‘Alden Locke. Leave him out of this. Stay away from him; keep as much distance as you can.’
‘You’re not here to protect me, but Alden …’ I raise my eyebrows. ‘You know he’s my partner in the next Ordeal, don’t you?’
‘An unfortunate choice on his part, but we all make mistakes. Let’s not allow it to be the death of him, yes?’
‘Just the death of me – is that it? Or would that be rather unfortunate too?’
‘Look, Sophia, wouldn’t you protect a friend, if you could?
Wouldn’t you have protected Dolly? Alden has a terrible inclination for playing the hero.
He neared burnout in the last Ordeal, I hear.
’ Knox chuckles humourlessly. ‘I want to see my friend survive the Ordeals, not form an attachment to a walking corpse he thinks he can save. You may get through and become a scholar, but the cold ones are returning, and I don’t fancy your chances. They’ve marked you.’
I pull in a shuddering breath. ‘Harsh, Knox.’
‘I am nothing if not truthful. Distance yourself from Alden, keep the attention of the cold ones on you and you alone, and perhaps you won’t be the cause of any more untimely deaths.’
I close my eyes briefly, the scent of warm blood tingling like tin in my nose.
A memory, but not a distant one. If Knox is right and more cold ones have been stalking me, then perhaps they were in the Morlagh picking off other hopefuls before catching me.
Nausea claws up my throat. I would not wish that fate on anyone. ‘I’ll keep my distance.’
‘No hard feelings, I hope?’
‘None,’ I say, drawing my eyes up to meet his. ‘I would have demanded the same promise if it was someone I wanted to protect. Probably at knifepoint.’
‘Good. Then we understand each other,’ Knox says with a half-smile. ‘Good luck in the next Ordeal, Sophia. You’re going to need it. I’ll be watching.’
I waste no time when I’m back in Hope. Using what I can find, I fashion not only a holder for my switchblade, but also for a wooden stake that I can strap to my body. They’re after me. Those vampiric monsters are after me .
And if they breach the wards, I can only rely on myself.
The day before the Ordeal of Lies, a hopeful, Marcus, is found dead on the rocks.
Crooked and cold, the man is just a pile of broken limbs by the time he is found beneath a second-floor window of Gantry Hall.
It’s been long enough since a hopeful has died outside an Ordeal to have made me think that the problem had just gone away.
Or the murderer was someone killed off in the last Ordeal.
But apparently not, apparently the murderer is alive and well, and none of us are any safer at Killmarth.
‘Best masquier in our year …’ Tessa says as we sit huddled together in the library.
‘Well, after me.’ We’re on edge, flinching at footsteps, and scholars have been roped in to patrol the halls after dark.
Now we move around in pairs or threes once more, and I only feel safe sleeping with my switchblade in my fist, the wooden stake under my pillow.