Chapter 19
Saipha and I ease away from the door and share a look that has a thousand words wrapped up in it, though both of us keep our mouths pressed shut to prevent them from slipping out. Still, our worried expressions speak volumes.
At least one of the supplicants this year is cursed.
That sentence is going to haunt me the rest of my time here. It’s already consuming my thoughts as we slink away. It’s whittling at my hollow optimism and false hope. We pick up the pace as we gain some distance, forced to backtrack and hope that there was some way we missed.
Just around the bend from where we started—but in the opposite direction from where we went, of course—is a door with a lever embedded into the wall at its side.
I glance to Saipha. She shrugs. Not like we have any other options, is what I’m sure we’re both thinking.
As she pulls the lever, we brace ourselves.
The door slides open sideways, into the wall, and we emerge into a familiar staircase. As soon as Saipha releases the lever, the gears start to turn, and the door begins shuddering back into place. She slips through with a side-step just before it seals shut.
“A hidden passage…” she murmurs, keeping her voice low.
The doorway is now nothing more than a tall painting on the side of a staircase landing.
“There must be more of them. Remember how the vicar said people could be watching us even if we didn’t see them?
” I run my fingers along the picture frame, looking for what mechanism might trigger the opening on this side.
Whatever it is, it isn’t immediately obvious, and Saipha cuts my search short.
I reluctantly agree that we should go before any inquisitors notice where we ended up.
We might have managed to give them the slip. For all they know, we’re still stumbling around in that dark room, screaming until our voices give out. Which means we might have a shot at getting to the greenhouse before they can manage to trap us in that horrible basement again. Or worse.
Ice coats my spine as we emerge into the familiar greenhouse. Its lush greenery and soft, filtered moonlight feel at odds with the fear coursing in my veins. One of us is cursed. It’s the only thought I can think. Over and over and over…
“Do you think we’ll be safe here?” Saipha asks, eyeing the walls.
“I don’t think we’re ‘safe’ anywhere. But I think sometimes you have to pretend the monsters aren’t real to be able to sleep.
” I sound braver than I feel, and I guide us to the back, holding my breath as I pull open the door to the shed.
It looks the same as yesterday, with all the pots and shelves appearing untouched.
“I doubt either of us is getting any sleep tonight.” Saipha steps inside, stumbling to the very back and collapsing with a huff.
My gaze flickers from the small table to the bags of fertilizer to a few tools for digging.
I was hoping the little bowl Lucan mixed that poultice in might still be here.
But it’s not. Did he take it with him to smudge the other sigils?
Did he clean it up so no one else could use it? Did an inquisitor remove it?
I realize that I don’t actually know what happened to Lucan after I was gone, and that has something shifting uncomfortably within me. I spent the day in Saipha’s room only to come out as night fell. Did he get a key? What if the inquisitors got him? Or worse?
No, I am not going to worry about him. I imagine him casually walking away after handing me over to the inquisitors without so much as a blink to then make it a point to screw over any advantage I could have. Whatever compassion I was feeling for him evaporates like water off hot stones.
I settle down next to Saipha, and she leans her shoulder into mine.
“That passageway… You think we were supposed to find it?” Her voice is barely a whisper, and the way she asks tells me she already knows the answer.
“No, not at all.” Even though the air in the greenhouse is humid and rich with the aroma of damp earth, I’m still cold. The stink of green dragon acid is burned into my nose.
“There’re probably a lot more like it,” she muses.
“Probably. This whole place suddenly feels like a gameboard, and we’re the pieces.”
“Sure, except the board changes whenever it suits them.”
It makes me think of the various levers and pulls my father would design. The little boxes with hidden compartments he’d surprise me with on my birthday. The tiny puzzles he’d give me “just to see” if I could figure them out.
Were you training me, even then? I wish I could ask him. Another question for when I make it out of here. I imagine there’ll be a lot to talk about when all is said and done. If I make it out of here…
The silence is heavy. I know what both of our thoughts are drifting back to. The one thing that’s going to keep us up all night, flirting with our worst nightmares and fears.
“Who do you think it is?” she whispers. “My father told me being cursed is incredibly rare.”
“I don’t know.” The back of my head rests against the cool stone as I look out onto the raised gardens. “Hopefully Lucan.”
“You really don’t like him, do you?”
“Can you blame me?” I shrug even though a part of me already regrets what I said. It’s not his fault he’s like this, one part of me says. Oh, Valor bless, stop making excuses for him! another rallies against him.
“He seems like he’s been nice enough to you.”
I don’t respond, too busy mentally arguing with myself over a boy. An utter waste of my mental energy.
“I bet you could win him over,” Saipha continues. “Flirt with him until he’s putty in your hands?”
“Saipha. Gross.” I repeat my earlier statement, and she laughs. The sound is thin and somewhat hollow. But genuine.
“I’m just saying, we could use all the help we can get in here.” Saipha sounds noncommittal.
“Yeah…” I trail off. I can’t get any more words out anyway. Only one thought is circling my mind right now.
It’s me. I’m the cursed one.