Chapter 45
Chapter forty-five
Thornfell Keep
“Cassian Nightbrook,” she said. “I thought I told you never to seek me out again.” Then she drew in a long breath. “The moon dances with the stars. Where—where did you hear that?” Her voice was shaky.
“Those were Syra’s dying words.”
“That’s not possible,” she said, her face full of anguish. “My Syra died long ago. There was nothing left of her.”
“Just before she died, she was freed,” I said. “I saw it myself. Her eyes cleared. She knew who she was. She knew you.”
“It can’t be,” she said, looking near a breakdown.
I kept my voice as gentle as I could. “She sent me to you. She said she was sorry.”
Mrs. Crowe collapsed on the ground, weeping. “My daughter was in there all along. I could have saved her.”
Her daughter? I ran to her side and placed a gentle hand on her back as she heaved with sobs. I sat with her for a long while until she had cried herself out.
I felt the weight of her loss. It was something I was all too familiar with. I only hoped that in the end, she’d be able to turn the grief she felt into something other than despair.
I whispered, “You weren’t able to save Syra, but she died free and at peace. And you might be able to save others.”
She lifted her head, her face still streaked with tears. “What others?”
“People I care for. People who might end up like Syra did if I can’t help them.”
“I wish we could, but it’s no use,” she said. “The null field around the keep is so strong that any Emberborn trying to pass through the perimeter would collapse in pain and probably pass out.”
“Is there no way to counter the null field?”
“There is a potion I could make to get us past the null field, but I’m missing one ingredient, and there’s no way we could ever get any.”
“You mean this?” I said, pulling out the Emberbane.
Her jaw dropped, and her eyes grew to the size of saucers. “How did you get that?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Do you realize you could incinerate this whole block if you so much as dropped that?”
“I am aware,” I said emphatically. After all, I had almost died in an Emberbane fire twice now.
Mrs. Crowe’s expression turned to one of steely resolve. “Let’s make those bastards pay.”
With the door locked and a pot of water on the fire for tea, Mrs. Crowe and I sat at the table in her back room.
“Syra was my daughter, and I loved her dearly,” she told me.
“Her father was Emberborn. He died trying to save her. But that bastard in the throne room stole her from us. He corrupted her. I always held out hope that she was still in there, and Tarnasau knew that and used it against me. He’s held her life over my head for years, made me do things I’m not proud of. ”
“But now Syra is at peace at last,” I said. “And you’re free.”
“Her life was the last thing holding me back, hoping I could somehow save her. That’s the reason I came back here to our old shop, to see if I could find a way to reverse the corruption. But I failed. And now that she’s free, the only thing I want is vengeance. What’s your plan?”
I kept the details simple and didn’t mention the Order of Emberlight, but I thought she inferred most of what I didn’t say. I told her that I needed to rescue Elena and a man who was very special to me and that they would arrive by prison wagon with a company of Sentinels.
“I’m afraid they’re already here,” she said grimly. “A wagon came in this morning, just as you described. They went directly into the keep.”
My heart sank. I couldn’t get the image of alchemists experimenting on Elena and Darion out of my mind. But I took a deep breath and gritted my teeth. “Is there any way you can get me into the keep?”
“Yes, I think one of the king’s top alchemists might be able to gain admittance,” she said with a smirk. “With my promising new apprentice in tow, of course.”
That caught me off guard. I had known Mrs. Crowe for years.
Had she been working directly for the king all this time?
If so, she had hidden it well—how much could I truly trust her?
Then again, the way she’d reacted to the news of Syra’s death had not been an act.
I truly believed she had been coerced into helping the Crown.
It was a risk, but going into the keep alone would be suicide.
“I’m in.”
“Excellent,” she said. “Let’s make some potions.”
“Like old times,” I said.
Mrs. Crowe grunted.
We hovered over the fire, ground herbs in the mortar, and mixed reagents. She helped me craft all my usual potions, like my fire and smoke bombs, but she made a few suggestions for additions and changes that improved them significantly.
“Be careful with these,” she said as she handed me the vials. “They’ll have a bit more kick than you’re used to.”
With my Emberbane, she crafted several vials of a potion she called Embercloak. “Not only will this get us past the null field, but it will also diminish its effects, making you harder to track. And each vial requires only a drop of your Emberbane.”
I stashed two vials in my belt and downed a third in a single swig.
The taste was bitter, but I quickly felt its effects rippling through my body.
I let my Ember flow. I had never felt quite so connected to it.
Everything was more visceral. My mind was sharper than ever, and my limbs begged for something to climb.
Also, the oppressive null field that enveloped the entire town felt muted.
According to Mrs. Crowe, the effects would last no more than a couple of hours, and after that I’d have one hell of an Ember hangover, so speed was critical.
Mrs. Crowe also had another use for the Emberbane. She held up two vials, one purple and one green.
“For worst-case scenarios,” she said. “Separately, they are inert. But if you mix them, it sets off a delayed chemical reaction. In about fifteen minutes…boom.” She made an explosive gesture with her hands.
“I call it my time-release bomb. Even this much can knock down an entire building.” She let out a long breath, a distant look in her eyes. “Syra helped me come up with this.”
Dressed in the robes of an alchemist’s apprentice and with my belt stocked to the hilt with potions, I left the shop with Mrs. Crowe at my side.
She had donned her finest robes, complete with golden ribbons that signaled her station.
As we walked down the street on the way to the keep, people turned to look at us, whispering.
“We seem to be attracting attention,” I said under my breath.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been to the keep. It’s bound to cause a stir.”
“How long has it been?”
“Five years,” Mrs. Crowe said flatly. “Had a bit of a falling out with the king.”
I stared at her in shock. Mrs. Crowe knew the king? And they’d had a falling out? I was frankly surprised she was still alive. “Is that going to be a problem?”
She shrugged. “We’ll see.”
I suddenly got a lot more nervous about our plan. Was Mrs. Crowe a banished alchemist who was going to attract a lot of attention? But we had come to the entrance of the keep. It was too late to turn back now.
Royal Guards were stationed at the start of the long stone bridge that extended toward the keep. They took one look at Mrs. Crowe and snapped to attention as we passed.
The bridge itself was about ten feet across, and only a short lip at the edge prevented someone from falling to their death on the jagged rocks below.
Thornfell Keep rose before us. Its architecture was unique, to say the least. Many might call it garish, with its absurdly tall towers and overwrought design. Every detail was just a little too much, a reflection of a person who had endless wealth and surrounded himself only with sycophants.
As we approached the ornately carved front gates, they swung open seemingly by themselves. Every instinct told me that this place devoured people like me. I took a deep breath as we walked into the belly of the beast.
A crackle of electricity ran along my skin as we crossed the null field barrier.
It was deeply disturbing, and I could only wonder what it would’ve felt like without the Embercloak potion.
I hoped it hadn’t caused Darion and Elena any pain as they had crossed it.
Once inside the barrier, the feeling disappeared.
We entered a massive entry chamber with marble floors and soaring ceilings. A fountain with a statue of a siren spouting water dominated the middle. Impossibly long banners flowed down from the ceiling. Royal Guards in ceremonial outfits lined the room.
The moment we walked in, a young man with platinum-blond hair and a face that was almost too pretty walked up to us. He wore an impeccable outfit made of lavish silk adorned with peacock feathers.
“As I live and breathe, the legendary Elandra Crowe,” he said with a plastered-on smile. “It’s been too long. To what do we owe this pleasure?”
“Brannic Yule,” Mrs. Crowe said. “It hasn’t been long enough.”
Brannic’s smile faltered for only a moment, and then he turned his eyes to me, assessing my entire body with a look that made me squirm. “And who do we have here?”
“This is my apprentice, Fenwick. He’ll be accompanying me.”
“And what business do you have in the keep today?” Brannic asked Mrs. Crowe.
“My business is my own. But I am interested in the location of two ‘guests’ who arrived this morning—a young lady and a man.”
“And why, pray tell, would I give you that information?” Brannic said, his voice still sweet but laced with venom.
“Let’s just say there’s a little detail you may not want the king finding out about, if you understand my meaning,” Mrs. Crowe said.
Brannic’s face blanched, and his smile disappeared. “You’re ready to play that card now? There’s no coming back from that.”
“I am,” Mrs. Crowe said, her voice deadly serious.
Brannic’s eyes were like ice. “Very well. The girl is in the lower alchemy lab holding pen. The man is locked in the high spire.”
Mrs. Crowe grunted and turned away. “Let’s go,” she said to me quietly.
“Oh, and Elandra,” Brannic said in a frigid tone, “it’s fortunate that you’re here. We were about to summon you. Orlik Leonom wishes to see you. Now.”