Chapter 33 Elaina
ELAINA
That afternoon, a parade of armed soldiers carrying war banners winds through the lower court—a celebration of the Queen’s latest conquest over a rebellious province in the south.
It’s a victory lap cloaked in silk and smugness and everyone in the Citadel, with a very few exceptions, is required to attend.
I hear the horns from my room. The guards outside my door mutter to one another and shift in their boots. Clearly they have been excused so they can keep watching me—not that it will do them any good.
This is the best opportunity I’m going to get and I’m taking it.
I slip behind the dragon-framed mirror, just as Tanzy instructed, my breath catching as the panel slides inward with a faint click. A narrow stone corridor opens before me, cloaked in dust and shadow, barely wide enough for my shoulders. I squeeze in sideways and let the panel close behind me.
I find myself in total darkness. Claustrophobia slips icy fingers around my throat but I take a deep breath and do my best to ignore it. I must find my way through to the Queen’s quarters—I must get the key to Xaren’s collar.
I think of going back for a torch—but I fear I’ll lose my nerve if I do and not come back to the tight, narrow tunnel. I decide to press ahead.
I grope along the rough stone, using my hands to feel the way, trying not to breathe in the thick layer of dust. The air is damp and close. Cobwebs drag across my face and I flinch but keep going. I can’t stop now.
Eventually, after what feels like forever, the tunnel widens slightly, and a sliver of light shines through a set of cracks ahead. I press my eye to them and gasp. I’ve made it—I’m behind the tapestry in the Queen’s private chambers!
The room beyond is opulence incarnate—thick ruby drapes, black velvet chairs, gold-framed mirrors, and a wide canopy bed covered in a blood-red satin coverlet embroidered in real gold threat that shines in the dim light.
The room looks empty but I don’t jump out right away. I wait for a long moment, listening…holding my breath. But there’s no sound and no movement. She must be gone—no doubt she’s judging the victory parade.
I slip out from behind the tapestry and begin my search.
The room is obsessively clean with every object in its place. I start with the wardrobe—velvets, satins, more black and crimson gowns than I can count.
I search them all but there’s nothing hidden in the pockets. I check the drawer of the carved vanity. I find lip paint, kohl pencils, and crystal bottles of perfume. I lift each one carefully, searching beneath them.
Then I notice the hearth.
Above it, hanging like a trophy, is an ornate gilded sconce with a single velvet pouch dangling from one horned hook. Gold velvet.
Just like the one she used to tuck the key away.
I dart forward and reach up, my fingers trembling. The pouch is heavier than I thought. I tug the drawstring and peer inside to see…
There! A thick, black iron key, cold to the touch.
I clutch it to my chest, swallowing hard. This is it—this is the key to freeing Xaren’s Drake. I can feel it in my bones.
But then I hear a voice—a horribly familiar voice—right behind me.
And I know that I’m trapped with no where to go.