Chapter 21
Twenty-One
My room is full of ladies when I arrive. Juliette pulls me into a bone-crushing hug. Charlotte, Antonia, and Genevieve make a fuss over me, insisting I get out of my bloody dress.
As they undress me, I tell them the story, leaving out the part about Brevan using magic, making sure I let them know that I’m uninjured.
“Thank the gods it’s not your blood.” Genevieve helps me balance while I step out of my dress.
“I’m throwing this dress in the fire.” Charlotte picks it up off the ground, balling it up so she can carry it.
“It will smoke too much,” Antonia says confidently. “Have someone burn it outside.”
Charlotte walks toward the door but I can’t see who she passes the bundle of bloody fabric to. I’m just glad it’s gone when she returns.
“These rebel attacks keep getting worse.” Juliette bites her lip. “We have to do something about it. You’re lucky you’re alive.”
“I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I say
Antonia shudders. “Imagine if they got to the emperor.”
“He was perfectly safe,” I assure her.
A knock sounds on my door. I tighten the robe around my waist before opening the door. I’m surprised that it’s not Brevan.
A young legionnaire averts his eyes quickly. “Your Highness, sorry to bother you. We have orders to check on you. To make sure your room is clear.”
I step back so he can enter. Five more follow him. They investigate every corner of my room. Under the bed, in the wardrobe, in the bathing chamber, and dining area.
Once they’re satisfied, they hurry back to the door. The man who knocked stops in front of it. “The enforcer is off duty the remainder of the evening. We’ll be right outside all night. Don’t worry. If there’s anything suspicious, we’ll take care of it. You’re safe.”
“Thank you.” I close the door behind him. Brevan must be more injured than he let on. I can’t imagine what it took for him to send others in his place.
I let out a long breath, then rub my eyes. It’s been a long day.
“You need to get some rest.” Juliette looks concerned.
“I can draw you a bath,” Genevieve says.
“That would be great.” I’m about to ask them to leave so I can talk to Katherine, when I realize she’s not here. “Has anyone seen Katherine?”
“Not since dinner last night,” Antonia says.
“What do you mean? Nobody has seen her since the attack?” My pulse races. I find a simple dress in my wardrobe and pull it on, then rush to the door.
“Where are you going?” Charlotte asks.
“I need to make sure Katherine is safe,” I say.
Juliette stands. “We’ll come with you.”
All of us step into the hallway, and the guards straighten their postures. The young guard who spoke to me earlier addresses me, “Is something wrong, Your Highness?”
“We need to check on one of my ladies,” I explain.
He nods. “We’ll walk with you.”
I know I don’t have a choice. We look like a parade as our group travels through the halls. Antonia guides us to Katherine’s rooms.
When we arrive, I knock. Then, wait.
Then, I knock again.
And again.
One night legionnaire must read the concern on my face because he opens the door and steps inside, weapon drawn.
I follow and scan the empty room. “Where is she?”
The guards fan out, checking every crevice. They look sympathetic when they tell me they didn’t find anything, either.
“Did she say anything to anyone?” I ask my ladies.
They all shake their heads.
“Maybe the attack scared her and she went home,” Charlotte says.
“Maybe.” I know that’s not the case, but I can’t say that.
“You should get back to your rooms, Sabina,” Juliette says. “You’ve had a long day.”
The sun is already setting, but I feel an odd mix of exhaustion and anxiety-fueled energy. I know what I need to do. “Alright, I am tired. I’m going to rest. The legionnaires can walk me back. You all should rest, too. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Are you sure you don’t want company?” Charlotte asks.
“I’m going to take a bath and go to sleep, so I won’t be good company,” I say.
“One of us can stay with you,” Genevieve offers.
“No, please rest in your rooms. You’ll be more comfortable.”
They don’t look convinced, but they curtsy and travel down the hall together toward their own rooms.
The guards escort me to my quarters in silence, and I don’t look back at them as I close the door behind me.
I know it’s a risk, but if something happened to Katherine, I have to inform the rebels. And they need to know about the emperor. I can’t wait.
I run water into the bathtub in case anyone is listening and then I pour in scented oil.
While it fills, I wash the blood from my face and hands.
As soon as the scents of rosemary and lavender fill the room, I turn off the water.
If anyone comes into my rooms, they should smell the oils and with any luck, they’ll assume I am still in the bath. I’m hoping it buys me enough time.
I grab a lamp, then open the panel to the secret passage and close it behind me. I follow the stones I left myself to get to the catacombs. When I reach the end of my path, I travel slowly, careful to mark my way again. Only this time, I’m using bones.
“Sorry, Mara,” I whisper. “I mean no disrespect to the dead.”
Hopefully, the goddess understands why I mark each twist and turn. My time spent down here years ago taught me well. It only took getting lost among the bones once for me to carefully mark every path after that.
I end up at a few dead ends, doubling back more than once. Frustrated, I return to my last marker and wonder what I’m doing wrong. I should have found something familiar by now.
Unless these catacombs don’t connect to the ones under the city. I thought they all connected, but what if these are royal catacombs?
I turn toward an opening cut into stone where a skeleton lies with its arms folded over its chest. Under its bony hands is a gold crown.
This whole thing could be prevented if the royals gave one damn about their people.
Better yet, if they never existed at all.
If not for them, I wouldn’t be here pretending to be one of them.
I’d be with my family, who would still be alive.
I’d have friends and a home. The rebellion wouldn’t exist. I sure as fuck wouldn’t be in a dark catacomb with the bones of the dead while still covered in someone else’s blood.
I reach for the skeleton and throw it to the ground, then I start kicking at the bones, sending them flying in every direction.
These royals with their magic. “Magic can’t help you when you’re dead, can it?”
I pick up the skull and stare at the vacant holes that used to be eyes. “What did you see? What did you do to maintain your life in luxury while your people starved?” There is no way these royals were any better than the ones who came after.
I throw the skull as hard as I can, and it hits the ground, then bounces, then rolls before coming to a stop. The vacant eyes stare at me, as if judging me. “You deserved that.”
That’s when I hear laughter. Howling, cackling laughter. Coming from the same direction where I threw the skull.
Nobody spends time in the City of the Dead besides rebels and bandits. Right now, I am willing to take my chances with either in order to get this message out.
I walk slowly toward the sound, but the closer I get, the farther away it seems. I take a couple of turns, marking my way, as I follow the sound. Then, it stops. I hear nothing.
Discouraged, I consider turning around. I’ve been down here so long my bath will be cold. If someone checks on me, they’ll know I am gone.
Then, I see it.
A little star carved into the stone. A rebel mark, a way of showing the path through. My heart leaps, and I move faster, looking for the stars as I continue. I think I recognize where I am, but so much of the catacombs looks the same, so it’s hard to tell.
Light shines ahead, and I set my lamp down in an alcove, so it’ll hopefully be there when I return.
A ladder leads to a grate. I climb, then shove the grate aside and peer out.
I’m in the city. Silk Row, to be exact. Just a few blocks away from the Point.
I’m in an alleyway, and fortunately, nobody else is here except for a skinny cat, who runs as soon as she sees me.
A raven lands on a pile of trash nearby and caws, locking its endless black eyes on me.
I stare back. “I’m not sorry.”
The bird cocks its head, as if saying something.
“Whoever those bones belonged to, they deserved it.”
The bird flaps its wings, then seems to nod before it flies away silently.
I think I encountered one of Mara’s ravens. And she agreed with me.
The interaction sends a rush of confidence through me, and I stand straighter as I walk out of the alley. Drunks are stumbling around, and a few couples in nicer dress walk arm in arm.
By day, Silk Row is lined with tents selling luxuries I could never afford. The kind of stuff I’m surrounded by daily now in the castle. The shops are temporary, though, and by night, the taverns open and welcome in a different kind of guest.
It’s been a while since I had to rendezvous with anyone from the rebellion. I spent the last few months avoiding them at all costs, and I am not sure if they still frequent the same places.
Hoping that some of the old members might visit the Screaming Goat, I make my way to the tavern.
It’s hazy with smoke inside, and my slippers stick to the floor. I weave through the crowd, and every head turns as I walk by. It’s the first time I’ve been in here with my hair uncovered. I’m the only blonde in the tavern, and all eyes follow me.
This is the opposite of inconspicuous. Even if I found a rebel to pass information along to, everyone would know who they were talking to. I could get us both killed.
So I stride to the bar and pull a gold hairpin from my hair. I hold it up for the bartender to see. He hurries over and glances from me, to the pin, then back to me. “That looks real.”
“It is.”
“You shouldn’t be flashing it around,” he warns.
“How about you take it off my hands and get me some ale?”