Chapter 27
Wren pulled on her coat, then began methodically buttoning it up to her neck.
She did not know what it was like to bear a military jacket and go to war, but she felt as though that was what she was preparing for.
Her long hair was plaited, pulled away from her face with no pieces left out to soften the look.
Blossom had been confused when Wren requested the style but did as asked.
Wren wanted to look the part of an interrogator even if she never uttered a word.
Her black uniform donned no ribbons or embellishments.
Castien’s dagger inside Kierana’s belt was the only adornment she had.
Wren had even dug out a gray cloak that she rarely used to replace the pastel ones she was known to reach for.
She tied the cloak around her neck, then gazed at herself in her vanity mirror. The small candle she’d placed on the table did little in the way of illuminating her complexion. The darkness beneath her eyes gave her appearance a haunted quality that she hoped would be more intimidating than sad.
Castien had instructed her to meet him at the Adira entrance at one in the morning. It was closing in on that time, but Wren had to be sure the path was clear before she left.
The door clicked open. Wren turned to face Blossom, who slipped into the room like a frightened field mouse.
“The halls are empty, my lady.”
“Thank you, dear Blossom. I shall be back in a few hours. Do not wait up for me. If someone asks where I have gone, feign ignorance. I will handle the rest if it comes to it.”
Wren was not confident her lady’s maid could handle the weight of more lies.
It was best to give her simple tasks. Blossom thought Wren was off to a secret meeting in the drawing room, and that alone was enough to set the maid’s nerves on edge.
If she saw Wren disappear into a bookcase, she might faint.
“As you wish, Lady Kalyxi.”
Wren drew her hood up over her braid, then bent down and blew out the candle on her vanity.
Smoke curled in the darkness. The memory of Alysia’s body in the tunnels slapped Wren, making her wince.
Soon it would all be over. Wren and Castien would get justice for her brother, Kelda, and Alysia.
No one else would die by their hand. Then, slowly, the memories of bodies torn and bloodied would fade away.
The way mine did?
Wren gritted her teeth as the monster’s voice plagued her mind. This would cleanse all of it. She’d repay her brother and her guilt would be gone.
No matter what you do, you’ll never be rid of me.
Wren shook her head and stalked to the door.
“Be safe, Lady Kalyxi,” Blossom murmured as Wren passed.
“Thank you, Blossom.”
Wren crept out of her chambers. She remained mindful of each step she took, not wanting to make a noise that would draw the attention of her housemates.
After a painfully long walk from her door to the drawing room, Wren made it inside.
It was cloaked in shadows, but she had memorized the location of the lever.
With quickness, she pulled it and entered into the small sitting room.
Next was the harder task of feeling for the lip of the trapdoor.
Calypsia must not have used the lamp on the table, or she put it out before slipping below.
She was to meet Castien down here, too. Only she would be met with an ambush.
Castien did not give details about how Soren and Ambrose would be obtained but said that Finn and Eindar would take care of it.
Wren trusted the two men were more than capable.
She’d witnessed Finn’s skills with a knife with her own eyes, and Kierana wouldn’t dare involve herself with a man who was subpar in the skills of fighting, so Eindar must be a warrior of renown.
Wren scraped her fingertips along the wood, searching for the door. After a few tries, she found it and tugged it open.
“My dearest Wren.” Castien’s voice floated up to her like the scent of wildflowers on a summer breeze.
He stood at the bottom of the ladder, the lantern at his feet illuminating his figure.
Instead of the academy uniform she’d grown used to seeing him in, he was wearing a coat that made him look like a commander.
Black with silver and emerald embroidery that glimmered in the firelight.
It seemed he had taken his appearance into account this evening as well.
He looked as much a royal as his bloodline suggested. All he was missing was a crown.
“My pompous prince,” she mused before turning to climb down the ladder.
“I thought it prudent to remind them who they were speaking to,” Castien said, catching the meaning of her words.
Wren jumped down from the last step to the floor. She wobbled slightly and felt hands brush the curve of her waist to settle her. Her stomach dipped.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she turned to face him. “Is everyone here?”
“Yes, Finn is speaking to Calypsia now. She became irate rather quickly once she realized she was not down here for the purposes my letter suggested, so I had Finn go in to calm her down with the aid of his Gift.”
Wren’s face twisted up.
“He’s not going to …” She couldn’t finish the sentence. The very thought of Finn and Calypsia together made bile rise in her throat.
Castien chuckled. “No, Finn wouldn’t stoop that low. And I wouldn’t ask such a thing of him either.” He picked up the lantern and gestured ahead. “His Gift, when fully unleashed, will help calm Calypsia, distract her from her anger.”
Wren made a thoughtful sound as she followed Castien through the halls, passing beneath torches and beside closed doors.
“I have felt some of Finn’s Gift, I think, but I don’t recall being under that sort of haze.”
“You wouldn’t recall it. He’s quite good at weaving it in so naturally you don’t realize what’s happening. But he hasn’t used it to such a degree on you. Likely you’ve only experienced the natural runoff, so to speak, of his Gift.”
“Will I be in danger of being cast under a spell tonight?” Wren inserted mirth into her tone, but she couldn’t help the worry that arose at the thought. She didn’t like the idea of being at someone’s mercy.
“Finn will be directing all of his energy toward our suspects, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry,” Castien assured her.
As best he could, anyway. Wren gathered that Finn couldn’t channel his Gift, the same way she couldn’t channel hers.
She would have to keep her wits about her.
It would be embarrassing to fall victim to his charms during a time like this.
Wren felt the emotions of others increase the farther they went into the tunnels. Anger and fear mixed with a nauseating dash of affection clouded Wren’s senses like several perfumes sprayed all at once. They turned a corner, and Wren spotted Eindar standing sentry in between two doors.
“Soren and Ambrose are each in locked rooms on this side,” Castien said as he gestured toward the wall Eindar was standing near. “Calypsia is across the hall here.”
The other side had a door with light spilling out of the bottom. Wren could make out low voices but not words.
“Have we had any trouble?” Castien asked Eindar.
“No. The men have been quiet since we brought them in, and Finn seems to have placated the princess,” Eindar replied gruffly.
“Good.” Castien turned his attention to Wren. “Would you like to join Calypsia and Finn?”
If the affection she felt swirling with the more logical emotions was any indication, Finn was making progress Wren wouldn’t want to ruin. Then again, they couldn’t wait forever. This needed to be done before the morning.
Wren was saved from making the decision when Finn opened the door and sauntered into the hall. He shut the door behind him. There was no shouting or anything to indicate Calypsia wanted to be freed.
“Well?” Castien prompted.
Finn unsheathed his dagger and spun it a few times.
“She claims she has nothing to do with the killings. I told her if she convicted Ambrose, she and her lover would be spared.” Finn shrugged.
“Nothing. She insisted over and over again that she knows nothing about the killings. Even said that she’d help kill the murderer for what they did to Alysia.
Apparently, Calypsia considered her a friend. ”
Wren recalled seeing them sit together in the drawing room after dinner on occasion but had thought Alysia only did so to gather more gossip. Perhaps she did, but Calypsia mistook that as friendship.
“I cannot fathom why Soren and Ambrose would do this without her influence. They stand to gain little,” Castien said.
“They’re Grimhaven-born. Power is gained by blood. Perhaps they viewed it as a play for your position,” Finn suggested.
Castien’s brow furrowed.
“Heron wouldn’t lead us astray.” Wren spoke up, hoping to assuage Castien’s doubts.
“I know. I am confident that these two are involved. I just can’t determine why.”
“Shall we ask them?” Finn drawled with a smirk, then lowered his voice. “My suggestion is to single out Ambrose first. If we tell him that Soren and Calypsia have teamed up against him, he’s likely to crack more easily.”
“Very well, Ambrose first.”
Castien nodded to Eindar, who withdrew a key from his coat pocket and unlocked the door.
Finn grasped the knob with one hand, the other artfully spinning his silver dagger.
As soon as he opened the door, Wren was hit with verbal and emotional vitriol.
Ambrose let out a string of vicious curses, his voice echoing off the tunnel walls.
“Now, now, is that any way to treat a friend here to talk?” Finn crooned as he glided into the room.
Castien followed him, and Wren after that.
Eindar closed the door behind them. Wren stayed near the exit, unsure of how close she wanted to get to Ambrose.
The man was tied to a chair. He struggled against his bindings, the veins on his forehead bulging in the light of the nearby candelabra.
Finn took a seat across from him, slinging a leg over one of the chair’s arms.
“Friends do not place a dagger to your throat in the middle of the night,” Ambrose growled.
Finn chuckled darkly. “I suppose not. But you wouldn’t have come otherwise.”
“Why am I here at all?” Ambrose demanded.
His eyes flicked from Finn, to Castien, then to Wren. Upon seeing her, the amount of fear rushing through her veins jumped. Interesting. An innocent man wouldn’t fear her presence.
“Don’t play the fool, Ambrose. It’s unbecoming.” Finn spun his dagger and tilted his head to the side. “Soren told us everything. You’ll be given a chance to clear your name, but I must tell you that the evidence that was presented is rather damning.”
Ambrose’s eyes grew wide. His chest heaved and fear filled Wren’s mouth, metallic and hot. Even so, Wren felt triumphant. She would avenge her brother. Tonight.