Chapter 8
Percy had attempted to explain his magic to me on our journey to Serifos’ dungeons. Maybe the concept was beyond me, or perhaps he was as empty in the head as Eleos claimed.
‘Requiems are dirges for the departed. Everyone reacts to them differently. Some feel sorrow, others anger, and more fear. Within the bounds of those emotions, I can create anything imaginable.’
I couldn’t claim to understand it, but I trusted him to watch my back. If all went to plan, we wouldn’t need magic. A set of forged papers and winning smiles would suffice.
Adjusting my hat, I pulled my veil over my eyes and turned to my partner. Percy looked entirely different, with his hair dyed black and makeup that mimicked the lines of his father’s face. Pulling the red-padded helmet over his eyes, he frowned at me like a lost puppy.
“You look professional.” I complimented, smoothing out his tabard.
“If these people have ever sniffed my father, they’ll know I’m a fake,” he insisted.
“Why? What’s he smell like?”
Percy paused, thinking. “Ham. Mm, or maybe charcoal.”
“I was joking, Percy,” I said, folding my hands on my lap.
Our carriage jostled over a bump in the road, and I grabbed the door handle to keep steady.
Rows upon rows of trees streamed by outside the window, leading us toward the fort tucked safely inside their embrace.
Seraphim sat in the driver’s seat, guiding the horses, while Eleos sat across from Percy and me, dressed as one of our soldiers.
“So, anything we should know about our quarry before meeting him?” I asked.
“I told you all that I know.” Eleos’ voice was muffled inside his helm.
“Seraphim is a tight-lipped lady. Maybe you’ve noticed?” Percy leaned toward me. “A dangerous chthonic; one who’s probably guilty of murder. Sounds like a pleasant fellow.”
“She wants him for a reason,” I said.
“Assuredly.” Eleos agreed. “She’s probably refrained from sharing because one of us will protest.”
“Or all of us,” Percy added.
“Ask for forgiveness, not permission,” I murmured. “Is that her motto?”
“More or less.” Percy nodded.
“I hope she knows what she’s doing.” I peered out the window as the carriage turned down a new road.
Two towers rose from the trees, shadows stationed in their turrets. A heavy gate and high walls barred the entrance to the courtyard; men in steel armor and red tabards patrolled the parapets.
Prisoners and guards would be plentiful inside to safeguard this place from the Empty.
“You know,” Percy whispered. “I haven’t asked.” His faded gray eyes bored into mine. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“No,” I answered quickly. “Why?”
“Well, it’s only polite to check. Serifos is a nice city, we could—”
“Run away and leave our woes behind?” I raised an eyebrow. “You should have asked earlier. By the time we reach the gates, we’ll have a wanted criminal with us.”
“We’re all wanted criminals, darling. It’s cozy in the shadows, besides.” Percy squinted. “You actually look somewhat like my mother, dressed like that.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“But of course. My mother’s a goddess. What son would say otherwise?”
Eleos laughed, the sound reverberating inside his helm. “Percy. Relax.”
“Right.” Closing the visor of his helm, Percy sat back.
I chuckled. Our carriage rolled to a stop, and Seraphim dismounted, knocking on our door before pulling it open. Her red braid was tucked neatly beneath a guard’s helm.
She saluted sarcastically. “Ready?”
Percy saluted back at her. “Assuming our new recruit doesn’t try to kill us, yes.”
“He won’t,” Seraphim promised. “Let’s get going before someone notices us loitering.”
Fixing my hair, I exited the carriage with Percy. The knights on the walls stood at attention as all eyes fell on us.
A knight called down from above. “State your business.”
“We bring orders from Lord Eusebius,” I called back. “He wishes for a prisoner to be transferred to Therapne.”
“Open the gates.”
The easiest part of the plan was done. Eleos opened the door for us to re-enter the carriage, as the heavy metal gates slowly cranked open. Grinding chains and scraping steel set my nerves on edge. The carriage door slammed as Percy took his seat beside me, and Seraphim guided the horses forward.
“The hard part is over.” Eleos encouraged. “The rest will be easy enough.”
Percy frowned. “I never tire of your sarcasm.”
“I’m not being sarcastic.”
“Oh, come now. Even the new girl’s seen through you.”
I couldn’t see his mouth beneath his helm, but I was certain our scholar was wearing his annoying half-grin.
The carriage stopped in the courtyard, and Percy and I exited once more. A knight approached us, the flowing red cape trailing behind him denoting his higher rank.
“May I see your orders?” He asked.
Percy handed him my forged document. “My apologies for not sending word. It was an abrupt decision.”
He sounded a world different from the flamboyant bard: serious and gruff, just as we’d practiced.
The knight read the papers before looking up at us. “Has the good lord gone mad?”
“Serifos was not the only city he wronged,” I said. “Many of the crimes he committed in Therapne have gone without answer.”
“We could question him in your stead. Surely—”
“You have my orders.” Percy interrupted. “Do you assent or will you send us back to Lord Eusebius to deliver your denial?”
Nodding, the knight gestured east. “Have your carriage follow the path to the eastern gate. We’ll bring him out there.”
Seraphim saluted, awaiting my word. Nodding, I turned back to the knight and followed him to the imposing front doors, into the heart of the fort. The carriage rolled down the eastern path, and I glanced back at it before the heavy doors shut behind me.
The dour dungeon I had been expecting was instead a gorgeous grand hall, with a looming archway leading into a chapel.
Water trickled between the pews in decorative channels, and a statue of Haimyx rose in cracked stone from the center.
He looked less like a life god and more like a death god, depicted with a bloody scythe and a funeral shroud.
Our guide led us past the grandeur to a small office, where he dropped us off with a bow. A grizzled older man who must have been the Warden sat at a positively ancient stone desk, a pile of papers and ledgers before him.
Raising his quill, the old knight waved us inside.
“Transfer orders, sir,” I said politely, handing him the forgery.
The man’s heavy brow knit tighter and tighter until I was sure it would cover his eyes completely. Unlike the guard, he did not question the order.
Rising, he grabbed a key ring from his desk and walked past us. “Use caution. Stay behind me and do not approach him.”
“Is he that dangerous?”
“He’s chthonic. If he spies a threadbare cut on you, you’re dead.” The Warden beckoned for us to follow.
Pausing to grab a torch from one of the sconces, he led us through the halls to a stairwell cutting down into the earth. Men lounged in the room below, playing cards at stone tables, guarding heavy iron doors locked with a chain.
They sat forward, watching intently as the Warden unlocked the heavy padlock leading to the rows of cells. A few reached for the weapons at their belts, perhaps a trained reflex, or maybe in fear of who they knew was locked within.
Several images danced across my mind. A massive man with a wicked smile, a bearded wraith with hollow eyes. Whatever this murderer looked like, it was sure to be unpleasant.
Without the Warden’s torch, we would have ventured into utter darkness. Bumping into Percy, I grabbed his arm to keep myself from walking face-first into the hard stone walls.
“You hold them in the dark?” Percy asked.
The Warden looked over his shoulder. “Closest we can get to the eternal damnation of the Empty,” he answered. “Drives them mad. Only a few keep their heads.”
Our footsteps echoed, heralding news of our presence. Flinching with each new step, I peered into the cells, trying to catch a glimpse of their occupants. Each was sealed shut with a heavy stone door. Not even a slat allowed the occupants to gaze out, nor for those outside to gaze in.
Complete darkness and solitude. Forever. I shuddered at the thought.
The Warden brought us to the end of the hall, wrestling his keys out as he approached the center cell. I heard the key fit into the lock, though I could hardly see.
But the sound of a door scraping open didn’t follow.
Yanking the key out, the Warden stepped back, waving his torch over the door. He cursed under his breath and kicked.
The door scraped open, revealing a stone room of featureless walls and a single bench.
An unoccupied bench. The cell was empty.
My stomach tumbled into my nether regions when I realized what this meant.
“Stay here.” The Warden ordered me. “You.” He waved the torch at Percy. “Come with me.”
Percy grimaced, glancing at me, but the Warden was already jogging away. Pushing him encouragingly, I knitted my fingers together as the two soldiers disappeared into the shadows.
Great. Just great. A dangerous murderer was loose, and I was armed with a smile and honeyed words. A very useful thing in the pitch dark.
Feeling my way along the wall, I took a step forward, heard a bang from inside a nearby cell, and backtracked.
Was it safer to wait here? What if the cell’s occupant returned?
How had he escaped?
I couldn’t stay here. I wasn’t even supposed to be here.
“Shitshitshit,” I muttered, running a hand along the wall to guide me through the shadows.
My hand slipped from the wall, and I stumbled forward. Had I reached the end of the hall? Turning in a circle, I strained to adjust to the darkness, but saw only vague blobs in the gloom.
Choosing a direction, I crept forward, feeling for the wall. Instead, my boot crashed into metal. Cursing, I hopped back, trying to see what I’d struck.
My back collided with a person who had most certainly not been there a moment before. A strong arm slipped around my waist, pressing me against his chest.