Chapter 21 #2
I chuckle softly and take his arm as he propels me forward, into the middle of the hall.
The music draws to an end on a warbling note, everyone turning to clap.
My eyes snap to every hopeful as I pass them, their eyes beady and watchful, every one of them tuned in to the conversations surrounding them.
I spot Elspeth, Betram, Charlotte, Fion …
and it strikes me, what if the correct person to give the code word to isn’t in this hall just yet?
What if I’m following the rules too closely?
This is the Ordeal of Lies after all. So far, I’ve followed the rules to the letter, as have all the other hopefuls.
As far as I can tell, none yet have ascertained their code word.
I sweep my gaze over the gathered crowd, taking in the faces of strangers, a smattering of professors, including Professor Silver and Professor Lewellyn …
but not the entire faculty. Maybe Alden and I need to work out who is absent?
A heeling starts up and I focus on Alden, noting the other couples gathering around us as they take to the dance floor.
It’s a moment for hopefuls to snag a dance with someone who they can whisper to without being overheard, to seek clues as to how they can learn their code word.
Dolly taught me every dance for situations like this, and the heeling was always my favourite.
I smile despite myself, remembering her.
Remembering how she held her cigarette holder aloft, calling, lovely, darling, simply lovely!
as I giggled my way through the steps. The memory leaves me with a sting of bitterness, even laced with the sweetness of her.
Alden takes my waist, spinning me around, and I fall back into the present. ‘Who taught you to dance?’
‘A friend,’ I say, stepping back then clasping my hand to his before swinging around, then meeting him again. ‘You?’
‘My mother,’ he replies. ‘She loves to dance. We used to hold a ball every year in midsummer at Morlagh Manor and everyone would travel up in the season, before …’
‘Before?’
His eyes flicker away, then back to mine. ‘Before my father was murdered by one of those monsters that’s stalking you.’
He spins me around, catching me at the waist as he stands at my back and we sway left then right, arms clasped overhead. ‘How do you know about that?’
‘I got it out of Knox eventually. Suspicious, him showing up again halfway through the semester after he told me he wouldn’t be joining me here. And when you mentioned his name yesterday, I knew something was up.’
He spins me and we’re facing each other, his eyes catching on mine. ‘I thought he was your friend.’
‘He is. And that’s why I didn’t chuck him off a cliff.’
I sniff. ‘Maybe he’s trying to protect you.’
‘He kept key information from me that he should have shared.’
‘Can’t a girl have her secrets?’ I flick my eyes up to his.
‘Not when you’re my partner.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Locke, I had it handled. I’m very capable—’
‘You are.’
‘Then why—’
‘For my own reasons, Sophia. For my own reasons. I take this threat extremely seriously, especially when it comes to you. I want you alive. No, I need you alive.’ He spins me again, breaking our eye contact, and when I turn to find him once more, his hands enclose my lower back, the heat of his palms against my bare skin sending ripples of delicious heat all through me.
His head falls to my shoulder and his hands move north, his arms tightening around me and I realise he’s holding me.
As the other couples swirl around us, we’ve stopped.
‘I was wrong. I’m sorry. Knox didn’t tell me everything, but I know enough.
You’re not the murderer; nothing could be further from the truth.
You need Killmarth to be safe. And I need you to know, you’re safe with me.
’ My breath stutters and I dare to let my gaze travel up to meet his.
His eyes are serious, piercing, his arms still holding me protectively.
‘Whatever you’ve been through, whatever you’ve suffered …
I need you to know that those gates are not your only safety net.
I am here, I’m your partner and if you’ll allow me, I will be your safety net too, Sophia. I will be your … everything.’
I blink up at him, lost for a moment, and it all falls away between us.
My armour, the pretence. I allow a breath to escape my lungs and close my eyes, leaning into him.
For a moment, as he holds me in the midst of the Ordeal of Lies, the truth I’ve been holding within myself bleeds out.
I am nothing more than a fractured heart, than a tightly wound knot of fear, than a boat in a storm without shelter.
I am myself completely, clinging to this moment, this space carved out for us in the middle of the dance floor as I risk looking up at him.
And his answering vulnerability, the truth in his own heart leaves me breathless.
He let me in. He let me hold him. Yet I didn’t trust him not to judge me, not to reject me for all that I am, all that I was.
I couldn’t do the same for him. ‘I— Alden …’
Suddenly the dance concludes, the string quartet lowering their arms from their instruments, and I step away from him, shattering the moment between us.
I clap politely as all eyes turn to the platform and the musicians, and when I glance back at him, I find he’s moved to the edge of the crowd.
He’s listening intently to the professors standing next to him, then his head snaps up, eyes finding mine.
He nods towards the door, indicating we should leave.
I release a charged breath, reeling myself, all that I am, back in.
We’re still in an Ordeal. I need to focus and stay alive.
When I meet him by the entrance, he murmurs in my ear, ‘Our code words are not in Keeper’s Hall. It’s a distraction. We need to search before the others all realise.’
I smile at him, nudging his arm. ‘The first deception of the Ordeal.’
He opens his mouth, as though about to say something then gives a small shake of his head and opens the door. ‘After you, DeWinter. Illusionists first.’
The clue to unlock the code word and who to give it to lingers in my mind as we hesitate in the courtyard, deciding where to hunt first.
Lies are cobwebs hung around the truth.
My mind keeps snagging on that one word: cobwebs . Such an odd choice of phrase for a clue. ‘Can you think of anywhere disused or dusty?’ I ask Alden, eyeing the many dark windows peering down at us, like pearlescent eyes in the gathered dark.
Alden crosses his arms, frowning at me. ‘Perhaps if you give me a little more to go on …’
I mirror him, crossing my arms as well, as I try to ignore the sharp cold of night brushing my exposed skin. ‘It’s probably time we actually act as partners, don’t you think? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.’
‘Agreed,’ he says.
I glance over my shoulder and whisper the clue on my invitation. He nods thoughtfully, and whispers his back.
Knowledge is the keystone.
Biting my lip, I begin walking to the nearest doorway, the entrance to Godolphin on my right. ‘May as well stay warm whilst we search—’
The heavy weight of fabric slips over my shoulders and back before I can finish my sentence. ‘There. No more shivering.’
I pull the suit jacket, warm from his body heat, around me and give him a nod of grateful thanks. ‘All right. I suppose we need to look for keystones, and the hidden places around the college.’
‘I have a place in mind …’
We walk through the dark corridors of Killmarth, every footfall echoing.
Too loud … we’re too loud, too obvious. And the college is so silent, as though every scholar has been told to stay in their rooms tonight, to not disturb the Ordeal.
I clutch the lapels of the suit jacket, tightening it around my body as the silk of my dress whispers around me in a scarlet hush.
It’s not until we reach the shady corner at the back of Fetlock that I discovered on my initial wanderings that I chuckle quietly. Of course. The chapel to the old gods.
‘Apparently it was constructed as part of the original castle, the residence of an ancient family of wealth and standing.’ He glances at me. ‘Long before it was a college for wielders.’
I step towards the depictions of the old gods: Argus and Gallant and Aline.
There is a candle lit beneath Argus, a solitary candle, the wick barely burned down.
It’s fresh, throwing flickering light over Argus, who looks crueller in the light of that pale flame.
Alden moves away, searching each corner, eyeing the rows of short pews carved with strange sea folk and the scales of dread things roaming the skies.
And yet … no cornerstone. No cobwebs or knowledge save for the old gods and their questionable wisdom.
‘This doesn’t feel right …’ I say, stepping towards the front of the chapel, the stained glass in the window appearing more menacing and otherworldly in the dark. ‘We’re not meant to be here.’
Alden sighs, straightening, and gives the chapel one last cursory sweep. ‘I agree.’ He runs his hand over the back of his neck. ‘And there’s no one else here, no one else hunting yet, and we can’t be so far off the trail. Maybe we shouldn’t have left Keeper’s Hall after all?’
‘No, I think you were right on that … It felt too staged. Clues and code words are whispered things, quiet things, puzzles we have to figure out …’ I gasp softly, looking at him. ‘The library.’
He nods, eyes flaring wide as he turns on his heel, heading for the door. ‘We could be the first this time, DeWinter. We really could.’
But as we make our way to the library, there are more hopefuls stalking the halls and corridors in pairs.
Some slink through the shadows, some are arguing quietly, but some stop and watch as we pass, eyeing us warily.
Alden reaches for my hand and, without thinking, I take it.
There is no knowing how desperate a hopeful can be when faced with the possibility of death or exile.
Each is intolerable. And as we pick up our pace, crossing through the final corridor with its shadowed alcoves, the braces holding my switchblade and wooden stake tighten around my thighs.
Failure is not an option. Maybe once, I would have felt no remorse over using my blade on one of them.
But now … now it would be a last resort, and I do not want anyone to target us.
The library is cut with shafts of silver moonlight, the soft air ruffled, as though we have disturbed its sound slumber.
I indicate the first two rows of stacks and Alden nods, separating from me to peer down them, as I do the same with the other two.
Both of mine are vacant, and when I glance at Alden, he shakes his head.
I release a charged breath, there are no lurking masquiers awaiting us.
‘We need to look for anything that indicates this is the location of the most prominent words in our clues combined. Cobwebs, keystone …’
‘Knowledge,’ he says.
There’s a skittering sound, like footsteps on flagstone, and I frown. The library is entirely laid with wooden floorboards. ‘Let’s move, check for anything out of place, then loop and scan any prominent architectural features then—’
‘The books?’ Alden raises his eyebrows.
‘You’re a fast learner,’ I say with a wink and lead the way into the gloaming.
I stalk the outer perimeter first, taking the far left stack, pausing every few steps to listen, even as my pulse thrums louder.
Turning to check Alden’s progress at my back, I find the stacks deserted.
Foreboding shivers over me as I remind myself to breathe. ‘Alden?’
A voice, muffled, but still his calls from somewhere to the right, and I sigh through my nose, continuing onwards.
‘Alden, we were meant to stay together …’ But as I round the stacks, he’s not there.
Taking a couple of steps backwards, I press my shoulder blades into the books and shelving.
Listening intently, I lean down and quietly remove the switchblade from its holder.
There’s a scuffling, footsteps or books tumbling, I’m unsure, and I swallow, straining to hear over the hammering of my heart.
Carefully, I move along the stacks, sweeping to the back of the library, keeping the wall at my back.
‘DeWinter, over here!’ Alden calls and I sag with relief, pressing a hand into my chest.
‘We were meant to stick to the same wall, not take opposite ones …’ I say, moving towards the archive rooms, the ones containing the old newspapers on great rolls, the careful clippings from newsies, scandal sheets and broadsheets from across the territories.
‘In here!’ he says again and he’s in the third room along, the one I was in with Tessa just a week or so ago. I walk inside, fumbling for the wall sconce, scolding him for not finding an oil lamp when the door slams shut, leaving me in utter darkness.
‘Alden?’ I murmur, reaching for the door, grasping the handle to shake it—
But it’s locked. I’m trapped, sealed inside this small archive room.
I’m alone in the dark, no way out, no way inside and, instantly, I’m back there again.
Back in the vault, trapped in my terror.
My heart thumps faster, dizziness overwhelming me as I drum my fists on the door, calling his name, calling for help.
I curse myself. I should have set up a code word with him, or never split from him in the library.
I call out again, then my fists still against the door. No one comes.
I’m powerless. My true fear, the thing I’ve been running from made real.
And all at once, I understand the true nature of this Ordeal.