Chapter 38
Ipeer through the bedroom door into the east wing hallway. At the entrance, two guards stand watch, ensuring none of the competitors partake in tonight’s forbidden celebrations.
My heart thrums in my ears. If I’m caught, I’ll find myself on the guillotine by morning.
One guard lowers to his knee, fussing with the laces on his boots. I dart across the hallway—my feet no louder than the warm breeze floating through the open windows. Holding my breath, I reach for Kressa’s doorknob, but it swings open and an arm catches me around my waist.
I gasp, and Kressa swings me into the room, silently pressing the door shut. Her arm tightens, and my cheek settles against her chest as I catch my breath. A steady beat thrums in my ear, and I lean into it, pressing my eyes shut.
Her other hand settles on the back of my head—a warm, comforting weight. My power sighs, as if it’s been holding its breath.
“You’re glowing.”
The light emanating from my chest coats the room in an emerald glow. But my power rests dormant in her chest, unlit.
I pull away and back up a safe distance, snuffing out the light. “How did you know I was coming?”
She rolls the cuffs of her sleeves to her elbows and shrugs. “I felt you. I could almost taste your fear when you were crossing the hall. And just now, when your head was on my chest”—she swallows—“I felt your relief.”
“I told you to stay out of my head.”
“Trust me, Briar, I’m trying to,” she says, voice hardening. “But everything you send through that passage slams into me. You need to learn how to control it.”
Her final words aren’t a demand, but a plea. She blows out a ragged breath and runs a hand through her hair.
“Why?” I tilt my head. “Why is it so important I control it?”
The soft edges in her features disappear, replaced with a hard, unforgiving glare. “Because I can’t breathe when you feel sad. I can’t think straight when you feel rage. I can’t focus on anything. That’s why.”
I flinch at the accusation in her voice. “As soon as we find your brother, I’ll be gone and you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
Her hands fist at her sides, and a muscle tics in her jaw. “Good.”
I check my mental door. Sealed tight. My emotions shouldn’t spill into her, unless this connection we have is strengthening.
No. If that was the case, my power would flare in her chest.
“Were you in the tavern earlier today?” she whispers. “With Thea and Harriet?”
The breath entering my lungs freezes. “No.”
She gives me a slow, assessing stare. “Interesting.” Moonlight pours over her cheekbones and drips down the slope of her neck as she straightens her collar. “We’re going through Harriet’s room.”
“Harriet’s room?”
She nods. “We’ll use the servant’s door. She’s never there, so I assume she won’t care if we use it.”
My eyes narrow. “You sound like you’ve used it before.”
She strides to the bedroom door. “I have.”
“How often?”
A pause. “Often enough.”
I search her face, but it gives nothing away. “And where do you go?”
“I’ll show you.” She wraps a callused hand around mine. “Ready?”
I rip my hand from her grip. “I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own.”
Her lips quirk, a sparkle in her eye. “Suit yourself.”
The guards’ voices seep under the door, too low to overhear, and Kressa eases it open, her chest unmoving as she peers into the hallway.
“Now,” she whispers.
She slips out, and I follow close behind, keeping an eye trained on the guards. We pass, unnoticed, into Harriet’s room, and Kressa darts to the corner. Her fingers trace over the wall and, as if she’s done it a hundred times, she finds the seam within seconds.
My brows stitch together, and I shift on my feet as fetid air floats from the dark corridor. But I steel my spine. I don’t know where she’s taking me, but I’ll follow her anywhere if it means getting those women back.
“I know you’ve used this passageway before,” she says, “but it becomes treacherous. Impossible to see. If you don’t know where you’re going, you could fall and break your neck. So, I suggest you take my hand.”
Her fingertips graze the back of my hand, sending a wave of shivers up my cloaked arm. I hesitate and take a step back.
A low chuckle rumbles through my bones, her face blanketed in shadows. “You’ve pinned me to a wall with a kiss and held a dagger to my throat, but you’re too scared to hold my hand?”
I scowl and accept her hand, squeezing hard enough to make her flinch. “I’m not scared of anything.”
“I know.” Her eyes glint in the dark. “But I am.”
A warmth seeps into my heart and spreads across my chest, wrapping around my muscles and bones. The tension in my shoulders releases—a reprieve I haven’t had in weeks.
Kressa squeezes my hand. “Did you feel that?”
I nod, slowly. “Did that come from you?”
“I hope it helped.”
She pulls me through the doorway.
Our footfalls echo as we descend the stairwell through the floors I’m accustomed to. I trail my free hand along the inner wall, mapping the number of floors we pass. Kressa runs her thumb over the back of my hand, soothing my nerves.
A puddle splashes at our feet, and we come to a stop. Thick, putrid air infiltrates my nose, and bumps coat my skin from the sudden drop in temperature. I inch closer to Kressa, my eyes useless in the pitch dark.
“We must be below the dungeons,” I whisper. “We can’t exit the castle from here.”
“Who said we’re leaving?”
A chill seeps into my marrow. My hand loosens, and I struggle from her grip, but she holds tight.
“Where are you taking me?” I snarl.
“A bit further. We’re under the mountain right now, and if we don’t hurry, we’ll miss them.”
She takes a step, but I plant my feet. “Under the mountain? But there’s nothing on the other side. The maps—”
“Are wrong. How else would royalty get out during a siege?”
I blink. Only someone with prior knowledge of the castle and these passageways would know their way through the dark. That’s how she found me on the tower before the sunrise. She didn’t simply find the door, she knew where to look.
“You worked in the castle,” I breathe.
Without answering, she urges me forward, and we bank around a sharp corner. At the far end of a corridor, light crawls through the cracks of a short, decaying door. A thick layer of moss coats the crumbling walls.
Kressa releases my hand, and I follow, copying her steps should the floor give way. She grabs the doorknob and throws her shoulder into the wood. It scrapes over gravel, and when it gives way, a roaring fills my ears.
Brine sneaks into my nose, and I breathe it in. “The ocean.”
She smiles over her shoulder and ducks through the doorway. My leggings snag on the raw edges of the threshold, but I tug them free as my feet sink into rocky, black sand.
A cove stretches overhead, and at its mouth, the night sky twinkles. Waves sweep up the shore, parting for a small rowboat nestled into the sand. At the bow, a man dressed in all black nods to Kressa.
His face turns to me, and the air leaves my lungs.
“Simon?”
Kressa nods.
“He attacked Harriet,” I snarl.
“Well, so did I.” She shoves her hands into her pockets and shrugs. “Pirates killed his mother and sister, so you can’t blame him. I’ve told him to leave Harriet alone, though.”
“And you trust him?”
“More than anyone.”
I suck in my cheek and scan the base of the mountain. A small dwelling sits tucked into a pile of jagged boulders, blending into the terrain. I’d miss it if it weren’t for the small, golden lantern glowing in the window.
Four cloaked figures sit around a table.
“Go,” Kressa whispers. “Check on them.”
I bolt to the small shack, sand flying up around my feet. I whip open the door, and it slams into the wall, startling the women.
One stands, her short blonde hair masked by a hood. Her blue eyes widen. “Irene?”
Their faces are unmarred, hands and ankles free of ropes or shackles. Four rucksacks line the wall beside the hearth.
My lips part, and a cry almost escapes my mouth. “You’re okay.”
Heavy footsteps enter the room behind me, and the door squeals as it shuts.
“You’re Irene?”
Kressa leans against the door, searching my face as if this is the first time she’s seen me. Her head tilts, eyes softening.
I nod. “Of course, I am.”
She leans forward and dips her mouth to my ear. “Not at all a dragon hoarding her jewels.”
“I still breathe fire like one.”
“I don’t doubt that for a moment, love.”
Her power stirs in my chest, and I pull myself away before I light the room green. I sink to a knee in front of the table and look up at one of the women. “Has anyone hurt you? Or forced you to come here?”
She shakes her head. “Even after everything you’ve done for us, we aren’t safe here in Sarenia. But Kressa promised to take us somewhere where the Sky Court can’t find us.”
“And you trust her?”
“We didn’t at first,” another woman says, “but she’s shown us nothing but kindness.”
I recognize her from the trade I did a few months ago. Her hair is longer, face filled out. Healthy.
Kressa lays a hand on my shoulder. “I can answer all your questions after we get them in the boat. The ship can’t wait in the harbor much longer without being seen.”
I rise, and the women follow suit, collecting their bags from the wall.
Leaning to Kressa, I whisper, “If you or your men so much as lay a finger on these women, I’ll slit your throats.”
“If anything happens to them, I give you permission.”
She doesn’t blink, the intensity in her eyes is all the confirmation I need. I draw a deep breath through my nose. “Thank you.”
Her thumb cradles my chin, and she tilts my head to meet her gaze. “Did you just thank me?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
So, she does have a heart.
I pull away and slam the mental door shut. “Don’t get used to it.”
But as I watch the women file out of the shack, each sending Kressa a teary smile, something in my chest thaws. The impenetrable fortress I’ve built lowers its guard, ever so slightly—for her.