Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
B oth anticipation and worry pulse inside me as I follow Draven and some of his soldiers towards the scene of the crime. We took the northeast stairwell. My heart patters against my ribs as we ascend the stairs.
I have to stifle a sharp breath when Draven leads us out of the stairwell as soon as we reach the third floor. This is where the treasury is. I flick my gaze around the pale ice corridor, lit by faelight gems in the ceiling. Don’t tell me the humans tried to break into the treasury prematurely instead of waiting for my intel.
Boots thud against the floor around me as Draven and the other shifters hurry down the hall. We round a corner.
Blood stains the ice.
I trail to a halt while the others continue towards the man who is lying on the ground a few strides ahead. He is wearing silver armor but carries no sword. His brown hair is wet with blood from the pool of it that he’s lying in, and his brown eyes are wide with shock. My gaze drifts to his neck. His throat has been slit with one precise cut.
“Seal off this entire wing,” Draven snaps to his soldiers. “Check the entire floor, and the ones above and below it too. He can’t fly, which means that he’s still in the building. Find him!”
“Yes, sir,” his soldiers reply before darting away to follow his orders.
I scramble to the side and press myself up against the wall as two of them barrel past me.
Cold air hits the back of my neck.
Stunned, I flick a quick glance over my shoulder to find the window behind me slightly open. It’s nothing more than the tiniest of cracks, and it’s not visible unless you’re standing right next to it the way I am. But it looks as if someone pushed it closed in a hurry without being able to properly check that it was fully closed.
Sudden realization hits me like a shovel to the face, and a gasp almost escapes my lips before I manage to suppress it. I quickly turn my head back so that I’m facing forwards again and take a discreet step to the side so that my body is blocking the window more fully.
Mabona’s tits. That’s how he does it.
I’ve been wondering how the Red Hand is getting in and out of the castle without anyone seeing him roaming the halls. And this is it.
It was the human resistance who gave me those special gloves and shoe covers that I use for climbing. That’s what the Red Hand is using as well. That’s how he can manage to get in and out undetected.
My heart beats nervously in my chest while I try my best to look neutral as I remain standing in front of the window while Draven and another one of his soldiers, a woman with white blond hair and pale blue eyes, crouch down next to the body on the floor.
Draven is certain that the Red Hand is still here since he can’t fly. As long as he doesn’t figure out that the Red Hand can easily scale the walls, he will keep searching for him in all the wrong places. And I have to keep it that way.
With one eye on Draven and the blond shifter, I shift my position slightly and casually stretch my arm. The moment both Draven and the woman are focused on the corpse before them, I yank the window closed. And I make sure to shuffle my feet in a way that makes my shoes squeak slightly against the smooth floor at the exact time when the window clicks shut.
My pulse thrums in my ears. But neither Draven nor the woman looks up. I breathe an inwardly sigh of relief. The window is now firmly shut. Draven will never know that that’s what the Red Hand used in order to get out.
“Sir,” the blond shifter says. Her gaze flits down the corridor in the other direction for a second before she meets Draven’s eyes again. “We’re only four corridors away from the treasury.”
My heart jerks. The treasury isn’t just somewhere on this floor, it’s here . Dread washes through me. What if the humans are inside?
“This guy isn’t connected to the treasury,” Draven replies. A considering look blows across his features as he gazes down the corridor as well. Then he nods. “But I’ll check it out anyway.”
He straightens and takes a step forward. When she does the same, he gives her a look full of authority.
“Stay here and make sure that no one, and I mean no one , touches the body,” he commands.
She immediately stops and then takes a step back towards the body while lowering her chin. “Yes, sir.”
Draven slides his gaze to me and jerks his chin. “Selena.”
I resist the urge to reconfirm that I have properly closed the window behind me and instead quickly follow Draven as he strides down the corridor. He slows down a little, allowing me to catch up, but says nothing as we continue down the hall and into the next one.
As soon as we have rounded the corner, he turns his head and locks eyes with me while we continue walking. “Don’t touch anything.”
I shoot him an exasperated and half offended look.
“I mean it,” he says as he slides his gaze back to the corridor, only glancing at me occasionally as he keeps speaking. “I’ve already saved your troublesome ass from jail once. If you get blood on your hands now, it’s going to be very hard to explain it away a second time.” He nods towards my throat and lowers his voice. “Especially since you’re not wearing your collar right now. So just… don’t do anything to draw attention to yourself.”
Since the messenger was already waiting for us outside Draven’s door, we didn’t get the chance to put the collar back on me. So I’m still only using my hair as cover. To be honest, it makes me feel a little nervous too. But I don’t tell Draven that.
Instead, I arch an eyebrow at him. “First of all, you appeared to be liking my ass just fine a few minutes ago.”
He chokes on his breath and snaps his gaze to me.
I flash him a smug grin before fixing him with another pointed stare. “And secondly, I’m not stupid. I’m not going to start dipping my fingers in the blood of a murder victim and paint red flowers on the wall.”
He arches an eyebrow right back at me. “Need I remind you that your hands were completely covered in blood the last time you were near a dead body.”
“That’s because I tripped over him.”
“My point exactly.”
Drawing my eyebrows down, I let out a huff.
And before I can come up with a suitable retort, we reach the end of the corridor. A guard in silver armor meets us there. He leaps to attention the moment his gaze lands on Draven.
“Commander,” he says.
Draven gives him a curt nod in reply before turning to me. “Only a select few are allowed past this point. And you are not among them. So stay here.”
Frustration and disappointment rip through my chest. Goddess damn it. We’re still three corridors away from the actual treasury. I was hoping that Draven would be taking me with him all the way to the treasury. But apparently, there is a limit to the amount of luck I’m allowed this particular evening.
“And behave,” he adds, holding my gaze.
Since we have an audience, I decide not to argue. Letting out a soft sigh, I give him a nod.
The guard watches our exchange but doesn’t appear suspicious or confused, which I suppose is a good thing.
After holding my gaze for another second, as if to once again remind me not to do anything to draw attention, Draven turns and continues down the corridor without me. I watch his broad back disappear around the corner.
The dragon shifter who is guarding the corner is still watching me.
I resist the urge to adjust my hair. I already know that my throat is completely covered. But I still take a step back and then drift down the corridor, just to put some distance between us.
Faelights gleam like stars above me as I move. This time, when I’m not so focused on Draven, I take the time to truly study the wide corridor around me.
Just like most of the hallways in this castle, it’s almost entirely bare. There are no side tables, no decorations, no torches on the walls, and no soft carpets on the floor. Only the pale unforgiving ice and the glowing faelights in the ceiling.
I slide my gaze over the smooth walls.
A jolt shoots through me.
Blinking, I come to a halt halfway down the corridor and stare at a section of the wall. There are lines in it. Deep lines. Like cracks or cuts. I trace them with my eyes. They’re shaped like a large rectangle. Almost like…
I suck in a sharp breath.
A door.
There’s a hidden door here.
Excitement courses through my body. Goddess above, this could be it. This could be the way in and out for the human resistance. The Red Hand might be able to scale the walls undetected, but an entire host of humans will be seen. And they can’t get the treasury out if they have to climb the walls. But if they can get into this corridor through a secret door, they only have to make it through three more corridors before they reach the treasury.
Now, I just need to figure out where it leads.
Still standing in front of the secret door, I flick a quick glance down the corridor. The guard in silver armor is still standing there at the end of it, watching me.
I make sure that my head is fully towards the wall, so that he won’t be able to see my eyes, and then I call up my magic.
“This is such a cool door,” I say.
The moment the words are out of my mouth, I shove my magic straight at the yellow-green spark of suspicion in the guard’s chest. Just as I expected, my words made it flare up. I use my magic to slowly decrease it until it’s almost entirely gone.
“What is it?” I ask innocently, as if it’s just a question out of purely academic curiosity.
And because my magic is blocking his ability to be suspicious about my motives, he shrugs and replies, “It’s an escape route in case of emergency.”
“Oh, that’s so clever. I’m guessing it leads out to the mountain here on this side?”
“Yeah.”
Victory pulses through me, and I have to force myself to keep the innocently curious expression on my face. But all I want to do is to grin like an absolute villain. This is what I excel at. I can’t believe that the fae resistance never used me for missions like this. I was born for sneaky espionage and surveillance.
For a moment, I consider asking the guard exactly where the escape route leads out. Even though I have narrowed it down to the east side of the mountain, it’s still a big mountain. The other end of this tunnel could be anywhere.
The words are right there on my tongue. But before I can get them out, footsteps sound from around the corner.
My heart leaps into my throat. Quickly cutting off the flow of my magic, I walk away from the door and instead lean casually against the wall halfway between it and the guard.
A second later, Draven comes striding back around the corner.
He studies me intently but apparently doesn’t find anything to complain about, because all he says as he reaches me is, “Let’s go.”
“Since you’re still scowling, I’m going to assume that he wasn’t there,” I observe, trying to bait him into telling me if he found any other humans there.
“No,” Draven replies. “It was empty.”
Relief washes through me. None of the humans were there.
We continue back to the other corridor. But when we get there, the dead body is not the only thing waiting for us.
Rage burns through me when I see Empress Jessina and Emperor Bane standing there with displeased expressions on their features. But that’s not what triggered my anger. Both of them are holding a chain that is attached like a leash to Isera and Alistair’s iron collars. They’re still blindfolded but at least they’re not handcuffed anymore. Though that’s probably only because they wouldn’t even be able to move if they were wearing iron shackles as well as the blindfold and the collar. I squeeze my hand into a fist as I watch them sway unsteadily on their feet.
“What is the meaning of this, Draven?” Empress Jessina demands.
Her massive silver wings flare in anger as she drops Alistair’s leash and instead stalks up to Draven. Emperor Bane releases his grip on Isera’s leash as well and follows her. Both Isera and Alistair slump back against the wall.
Draven pushes me towards it and out of the way of the two angry monarchs as he instead strides to meet them. It’s only then that I remember that I’m not wearing the collar myself. If the Icehearts notice that, I’m screwed.
“The Red Hand continued his murder spree while we were all busy at the banquet ,” Draven replies.
This time, the acidity in his tone during the final part of that sentence is loud and clear for everyone to hear. Draven is not happy that they forced him to go to the banquet when he could have spent that time doing more important things.
Jessina flares her wings wider. “You do not take that tone with me. Understood?”
She and Bane come to a halt in front of Draven and draw themselves up to their full height. Both her wings and Bane’s are now spread so wide that they brush the walls of the hallway.
Draven stares them down for another second before he drops his gaze and lowers his chin while he tucks his own wings in tighter in submission. “My apologies.”
“I don’t want your apologies,” Jessina snaps. “I want results.”
“This man was in charge of scheduling all the guard rotations,” Bane growls while stabbing a hand towards the dead body on the floor. “Just getting someone else caught up on all of his charts and lists and schedules is going to take weeks.”
“I know,” Draven replies. “Again, I apologize.”
“If you don’t find the Red Hand soon, we will hold you personally responsible.”
“And you know what that means,” Jessina adds, malice dripping from her voice.
“Yes,” Draven replies, his voice controlled. “And I assure you, I’m doing everything…”
While Draven and the Icehearts continue their argument, I move so that I’m standing right between Isera and Alistair. Then I brush my hands over their arms at the same time. Both of them flinch.
“It’s Selena,” I whisper since they’re still blindfolded. Keeping my voice so low that only they will be able to hear, I continue, “The human resistance has killed again. They’re picking off important people. And I have made progress on the treasury.” I draw my hands down their arms again in a gesture of comfort. “You just need to hold on a little longer.”
To my left, Alistair dips his chin in the briefest of nods to signal that he heard me. I glance towards Isera. She doesn’t replicate the gesture. I blow out a small sigh.
Right as I’m about to move away again, a cold hand grips mine.
It takes all of my willpower not to whip my head around and stare at Isera as she gives my hand a firm squeeze.
She heard me.
My heart pounds.
She’s aware of her surroundings again.
Which means that she is also aware of everything the Icehearts are doing to them.
I flick a glance over their half-naked bodies and the collars and the blindfolds and the leashes. Burning fury sears through my soul, and I squeeze Isera’s hand back firmly.
And I decide, then and there, that just ruining them financially isn’t enough. The humans are going to pull off this heist. But that is not enough for me. I want the Icehearts hurt. I want them to suffer. I want them to despair. I want a fucking war. I want to make them watch as this whole castle burns to the ground around their heads.
I’m going to turn this whole fucking city against them.