Chapter 39
J A N E
I don’t know how Dad ever managed this—facing his enemies without being scared shitless. Right now, my insides are coiled so tightly that I’m sure I’ll vomit if I so much as exhale too deeply. My palms are slick with sweat, knowing that what is to follow will be the worst moment of my life.
They’re going to hurt me. Badly.
How do I get Anya out of here?
Jesper’s face is sewn together with threads of fury, his silken shirt covered in food stains. He focuses on Anya. “Grab her. Leave Jane to me.”
We both rapidly descend the stairs, and I even skip a few steps as we reach the bottom, only to be greeted by the sound of many approaching. “She’s this way!” The shout ricochets down the hall.
My pulse spikes, my heart hammering against my ribcage.
I stare at the long, dark pathway, the flickering torchlight the only movement until the shadows of at least two dozen guards move against the walls, and right behind me is Anya. It’s either forward or up those stairs.
Shit .
It isn’t even worth trying to fight, the guards converging on Anya, taking her up the stairs as she silently writhes in their grip.
For my lineage and my bloodline, I force myself to stand tall, and I wait. My back straightens, my chin lifts, and I allow myself to look up the stairwell and see Jesper slowly descending as Anya is carried past him.
The only benefit is knowing how angry he will be.
I am a daughter of Skull’s Row.
And I fucking ruined his precious little plans.
I hear someone yell, “Thomas is killed, too!”
The gazes from all around lock onto me in increments, like they’re shocked it was me . Jesper finally makes it to the bottom of the stairs, looking me over in disgust, before picking me up by the robes I stole and slamming me against a wall, seething. Pain explodes in my back and ribs as I gasp, struggling to stay upright. “What the fuck did you do to me?”
I meet his gaze, forcing myself to stay steady. “If you seriously think I was going to just sit in a tower, or casually eat dinner with you like my entire life never mattered, then I can’t help you.”
His expression twists, a grotesque mix of anger and amusement. “You will be punished for this.” His wide eyes gyrate as they look all over my face, and yes… I am a little afraid. But I’m already numbing myself, disassociating. I must survive whatever happens. Anya needs me to. I can lie, say that I forced her out of her cell. Forced her to shift and to wear the robes. I don’t know what good it will do… but maybe it’ll help.
He lets out a dark, humorless chuckle. “Alright… you’re right, Jane Ritter . There’s no point in being angry at a dog for stealing food if it’s on the table… but you can beat the feral beast.” He motions down the tunnel, eyes connecting with guards. “Someone bring me the friend.”
That’s right. She wasn’t looking like herself. He doesn’t know…
A soldier rushes off, his boots pounding against the stone. Jesper looks back at me. “How did you do it? They said the sirens are gone.”
I don’t answer him and just glare, gripping his forearms to try and steady myself.
He shakes me. “You left me sleeping in my food .”
“I know. You smell like steak.”
He tosses me across the small space and into a wall, my breath clearing my lungs. That jolted my back so profoundly my hips feel out of place.
When it looks like Jesper might kick me, the same guard that took off returns, shouting, “She’s gone! Sam is dead, too!”
Jesper’s face is overtaken by pure shock, looking back up the stairs like he might see Anya there. His hand shoots out, grabbing the hood of my robes, yanking hard enough to make me stick my fingers between my neck and the fabric to prevent being choked, dragging me up the stairwell; the hood twists around as my knee slams into the edges a few times, trying desperately to keep breathing. I can’t help but whimper at the searing pain. “If she fights me, someone stab her. Misery can deal with it, just like Blackwell can deal with his sirens,” he commands, his tone biting . “We’re going for a walk.”
It takes all I have to keep up, moving quickly and at an awkward angle where I can’t see much. I’m finally released when he tosses me onto the floor in what’s clearly the grand hall, its vaulted ceilings and flickering braziers making the space feel cavernous and oppressive. I breathe deeply, rubbing my neck. Many are waiting, one woman yelling at me through sobs, “That bitch killed Brandon!”
They’re free. Focus on knowing the sirens are free .
And where is Anya?
Accusations, curses, and sobs swirl together once they all feel like it’s time to blame Jane for everything. Even Marissa is in the crowd, her eyes frenzied with glee. “She’s not one of us! She never will be! We should just kill and use her now!”
Jesper shouts at them all to quit talking, his voice echoing against the stone before he stands over me. “I’m going to rape you, right here and now, then tie you in the dungeons. Every time we consummate, everyone will watch. And then after you’ve given me what I want, I’ll let the men fuck you as many times as they please, right in this hallway… Oh, is that going to bother you? What, angry you can’t heal your way out of that ? Misery can deal with you being accosted .”
Silence, once more. I’ll literally run straight into a sword, aiming for my womb, before letting that happen. Don’t let it scare you. You’ll never live to see that.
Right when Jesper yells in frustration, taking a step near me, someone else shouts, “ Enough !”
Blackwell’s presence is like a thunderclap, shaking everyone as many shoulders stiffen. “What the fuck is going on? Why did I have to wake Misery? Why do I hear that the sirens are missing?”
The oddest looking, dark furred monkey is perched on Blackwell’s shoulder, the eyes completely circular and with orange, molten pupils. The monkey twitches, its movements unnervingly sharp, and then, without warning, it leaps from Blackwell’s shoulder, scampering on the floor, its long tail coiling.
“She freed the sirens. And the prisoner ,” Jesper pants, his lips curled in against his teeth. “She escaped the piano room,” Jesper adds, swatting at the monkey when it starts to approach him. “I think she used the balconies and crossed over on the servant’s ledge.”
“Why was she in there at all?” Blackwell asks, his gaze filled with rancor, his peppery hair tightly pulled back.
“She asked to go in there.”
“Oh,” he answers, the mockery almost embarrassing. “She asked for it, did she? And how the fuck did she get out of that room?”
“Her magic! Someone came in when I didn’t answer, and a healer said she felt Jane’s healing magic, which was used to subdue me.”
Blackwell closes the space between him and Jesper, like a storm swallowing a weak sunrise; I hate Blackwell, but I can’t deny he embodies authority forged in blood and hardship—his scarred, weathered skin displaying what he’s earned through sacrifice, his outfit brimming with weapons that aren’t for show but for survival. Jesper just looks like a spoiled twat next to him, his clothes polished and his unearned bravado feeble, covered in his dinner .
Fuck Blackwell for making me respect him, even if only because I nearly want to laugh at how paltry Jesper is in comparison, and that’s a good feeling for me.
“I warned you,” Blackwell begins, his voice dipping low. “I told you not to trust this cunt. She’s the daughter of the Scorpion . Do you think he bred someone tame ?” He pushes Jesper on the shoulder. “You are immeasurably lucky that I have to wait for our god before doing anything to you. Those sirens…” his thin lips roll inward, vexation staining his gain. “You’re suck a spoiled cunt of an idiot. She’s acting as I told you she would, and you’re the one that let her out of her cage! The sirens being freed is on you! . ” His eyes seethe as he places a hand on his dagger’s hilt, Jesper looking down with zero pushback. Blackwell holds a hand out like he might choke the pompous idiot, but refrains before turning to face me, the monkey hopping near Blackwell’s feet to stare right at me, unblinking. “And Jane … you made a mistake .”
“She didn’t do it!” someone shouts from the crowd of onlookers. The monkey doesn’t turn around and continues to stare me down. I remain lying on the ground, as I truly don’t want to fight them now.I did what I came here to do, which means I need to focus on escaping. On surviving.
The guards bring Anya forward, who still wears the face of Amy. “Sir, she says she knows what happened.”
Everyone stares at her, a few mumbling under their breaths as if they can’t believe their eyes. Then, shoulder-length brown hair recedes and returns black, her round face lengthening to reveal Anya, the black robes slightly baggy on her now, her bruises all coming through as she breathes a sigh of relief, like it took too much effort to maintain that. “ I freed the sirens.”
“No,” I mutter, the sound desperate, as I press up onto my knees.
“Don’t listen to her,” Anya coldly says. “She is under the impression that her father’s life is dependent on you believing she freed the sirens.”
“Anya!” I shout.
“ Jane ,” she scolds, finally connecting her gaze with mine.
Jesper’s voice breaks. “Someone get the fucking god by the name of Morvock. And not his howler monkey!” He advances on Anya, but she doesn’t flinch, her calm demeanor unshaken even as the crowd parts to give him a clear path, the guards still holding onto her.
“Say that again,” Jesper demands, towering over her while Blackwell watches on, his fingers twitching like he can’t tell what he wants to do yet.
“I’m a skin shifter, and I’m loyal to Soren.” She steps forward confidently. “You are going to die; you do know that? The more scars she has on her, the more torment is added to your miserable life. If she so much as points to you once Soren gets here, you will regret every breath after that, and he will ensure there will be plenty to endure. My only regret is I won’t witness it.”
I can’t see Jesper’s face from here, only that his shoulders stiffen. “Say it again about the sirens.” Even though his voice is low, it carries in this stony enclave. “ Who freed the sirens?”
“ I did,” Anya doubles down, her stance declaring no space for fear, shaking her shoulders as if to make the guards let go.
“No, it was me,” I say, feeling like this is Maryanne all over again. What’s the point? We’re both caught now.
Anya’s intense glare is thrown with such force at me that I actually close my mouth. What is she doing? Taking the heat off of you, so you won’t be punished. I hate that I know the answer, because it’s one I despise. Jesper throws his gaze between Anya and me, the stupid monkey still staring me down.
“I want the truth !” Jesper yells, pointing to the floor like he can command us.
Anya raises a brow, boredom clear in her eyes. “I’ll wait for Misery.”
“I’ll get the god,” Blackwell says, like he’s fetching a pet. “Jesper, if you touch either one, I’ll give you a taste of a Skull’s Row punishment. To which I am eager to give, so don’t—” he raises a hand, as if to stop himself as he storms off.
The Zenith stalks away, the monkey following him, jumping up onto his shoulder. I try to make eye contact with Anya as we wait, but she stares ahead, resolute. She’s the shrewd one, isn’t she? That’s what Soren says. Is there more to this than meets the eye?
Remaining on my knees, the chilly floor starts to get to me, but I don’t want to move. Silence weaves through us all until most of the heads bow down in respect.Through the hallway approaches the cloaked god, his candle eyes surveying the room, the staff clacking on the floor in a rhythm. The monkey returns on Misery’s shoulder, continuing to stare at me, and I swear I’m contemplating how to stab it.Misery stops walking when at the center of this chaos, his unnatural fingers grip the staff tighter. “What is this?”
“She is waiting for you, my lord,” Jesper says, failing to completely control the frayed seams of his mind. “The… the sirens… they’ve been freed. She claims to be the one who did it.”
“It was me ,” I implore, Misery finally turning his head to stare directly at me. I lower mine just to avoid every aspect of his intensity.
“This isn’t time for bravery, Ritter,” Anya yells out. “I appreciate giving me the chance to go out on my own. I was never making it out alive, which is why, Jesper, I freed the sirens. Because I didn’t give a rat’s ass if I lived or died, but then your idiotic self took Jane, thinking she did it.”
Misery removes his gaze from me, and I finally lift mine to look ahead, to assess.
Anya stares Misery down, completely unafraid. “That’s right. It’s not Jane. It’s Cypress, actually. She holds Jane’s father ransom, and she is the one that allowed Jane into the jungle. I followed and overheard their conversation, which is how I knew the sirens were important to you—” Misery’s grip tightens on his staff “—she told Jane that she had to free the sirens or else Jane’s father would be murdered by the witch herself. I made the choice to come on my own, knowing it’s what Soren would want. I freed the sirens, so Jane wouldn’t get hurt by any of you for doing so. I came as her shield.” She spins those half-truths so perfectly like a weaver, that I’d believe it, even though I was the one Cypress spoke to, and I know Dad was never a part of these conversations. “She did free me , I confess. But it’s because I begged her for it. That’s the only crime she has committed tonight.”
Jesper watches as if he’s ready to stab the next person to breathe funny, but bores his gaze into Misery, waiting for judgment. The broken god contemplates for so long it’s as if he’s unaware of his surroundings. “Why not flee, if you can take on the skin of another?” he asks, my brows furrowing at such a nonsensical question.
“Because I came to do the dirty work so Jane would live,” she explains, and looks at me. Some part of my mind hears that she really is taking the fall for me, that maybe she is my shield, that maybe she did overhear Cypress giving me instructions, even if she partially lies about what was said. Which means Cypress wanted her to hear, knowing she’d likely take this exact path, protecting me after I freed the sirens like the witch asked… and yet, I cannot stand I’m in this scenario—again.
Useless.
It’s not within my bones to watch someone take the fall for me.
“She’s sad,” Anya answers, right as I open my mouth. “If I had to guess, because her father will die now. You weren’t supposed to know, you see. That was the deal. So she will proclaim I’m lying, no matter what.”
It’s such a smooth, believable lie. It makes me look like I’m acting out of desperation, not going on the offensive. It could literally save my life. Save my dignity. And yet it’s not worth it, not for a second. I do not like the feeling of people sacrificing themselves for me.
Jesper releases a high-pitched, incredulous laugh. “Can we kill this bitch yet?”
“A lot of what she says is the truth…” Misery croons. “This feeble excuse for a body cannot allow me to see further. I need my lands,” he growls, like he’s growing impatient. “But we do not need this skin shifter. Dispose of her. I will ruminate more on what happened to the sirens before taking any action.”
“ No ,” I protest, about to rise to my feet. I don’t know how I’ll stop them, but I can’t sit still, either.
Misery throws a decrepit hand my way, and with it comes a gush of wind as nearby rope slithers over and crawls up me. I scream at the sensation until it wraps around my arms and gags me.
Anya looks at me with a crack of a smile before she faces Jesper. “Well, go on. Stab me, you weird fire prick. Get this over with.”
It happens so fast that I barely notice it as Jesper unsheathes a blade and plunges it within Anya, her body eating the metal until it’s mostly the hilt that sticks out.
I drop to my knees when blood spills out of Anya from her gut and her mouth, trickling down her chin, the woman barely moving in response, hiding her pain with perfection. My grunts are muffled by the rope, screaming through the threads that bind me.
Anya’s eyes trail upward, and unlike my mother’s eyes—full of disappointment and agony as she died—Anya’s seem almost relieved.
Jesper removes the blade, and Anya slowly collapses as the guards let her drop, a glaze in her eyes as she looks at Jesper. She spits blood on his shoes before laughing. “Enjoy your life before Soren reaps your soul, you dumbass.”
She pulls a blade out from somewhere—I cannot see—and slashes at Jesper’s ankle, to which he falls over and cries out in pain, like the mayor’s cousin did back in Moore’s Inn; cowardice carries the shriek.
Blackwell unveils an obsidian blade and slits Anya’s throat, her head slumping as her body ceases all movement.
They begin to strip the black robes she stole, and I thrash in my binds. I stop when I see the three marks on her back that Soren has—Death’s Wing.
Assassins .
My father always told me people who join ranks like those are trained to die, to greet death rather than run. Gods, it doesn’t make it better, but I do I breathe steadier, despite the tears that pour down, glaring at the back of Misery since he can’t feel me, my furious gaze moving to Jesper. Keep yourself together, Jane. There’s a whole new reason now to kill these fuckers. I will get revenge for her.
Marissa pushes a woman near Jesper, who begins healing him immediately with the same powers I harbor within me. That healer feels like a traitor.
“Throw her body into the ocean,” Misery orders. “She is not worth anything more than that.”
And like that, they pick up Anya’s lifeless body and carry her away, blood dripping off of her fingers in a trail of red droplets. It’s when her presence is gone that I feel the weight of being incredibly alone here.
The weight of failure .