Chapter 5 The Brush of a Thousand Crimes #2
Prince Bellinor rose and strode round to the other side of the table, his polished boots echoing on the stone floor.
Clement’s attention snapped back to him, and my muscles locked as the prince passed Lilyanna.
He plucked a bottle of wine from a diamond-studded bucket.
Ice clinked against the glass and droplets of condensation slid down the slides, sparkling in the flickering candlelight.
Silence descended upon the dining room as he filled her glass with blood-red wine, each glug of liquid echoing up to the domed ceiling.
Clement cleared his throat again, fixing his gaze upon the prince who returned to his seat. “Don’t try that on anyone else or they’ll cut your head off. Distracting a guard is a crime.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be so easily distracted.”
He tsked, and I turned my attention back to the table with a sigh of relief.
Lilyanna looked happy sitting there, barely nibbling at that mouth-wateringly delicious feast. No trace of the doubt or fear like she’d shown in the bathroom lingered on her radiant face.
She’d probably just been nervous. Her hair looked quite good as well.
If she were a pony at the fayre, she’d win first prize for that braid.
I leaned around Clement to speak to the other guard. “And who are you?”
“Bryn,” she said, without bothering to look at me.
Knowing when I certainly wasn’t wanted, and which of the two was marginally more accommodating to my presence, I focused back on Clement. “So, we’re probably going to be spending quite a lot of time together, and you're now my only friend here. We should get to know each other better.”
His cheek twitched as he bit the inside of his mouth. “You have no friends here. You should leave.”
“Can’t.” I forced my voice to be light, but the whisper rose in pitch. “Bound to my duty, I’m afraid. As you are, my friend.”
I ignored the side-eyed look he shot at me. His fingers drummed over the sparkling hilt of his saber. He glanced at the ceiling, then at the hearth before settling back upon the prince who laughed at something Lilyanna said.
An echo of the moan I’d heard in the bathroom stirred, coming from the far side of the room. The fire drooped before blazing again and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. Clement’s suppressed shiver told me he felt it too.
“What’s in the walls, Clement?”
If he was surprised by my question, he didn’t show it. Minutes passed as we watched dessert being served on translucent plates. Pops of yellow and pink and gold leaf surrounded by the hypnotizing scent of burned sugar.
I thought he was going to continue ignoring me until eventually, he said, “Everything.”
My mouth dropped open. Questions shoved to the front of my tongue, jostling for position. Prince Bellinor stood to help Lilyanna to her feet, signaling the end of dinner.
“You can eat in your room,” Clement said. “Don’t leave your post or forget your place.”
I bristled. Did he think he could get away with talking to me like that just because he thought I was a maid?
I clenched my fists, the magic pounding against my fingertips like a pulse.
I had to focus, or it would control me. When had it even surged?
It must have crept up while I was distracted, an insidious entity within my own body.
I bit the inside of my cheek. I knew I needed a break after the fayre. Siobhan was testing me, seeing how far she could push before I snapped. At this rate, not far.
I tore my glare from the side of Clement’s face and stalked toward the prince whose hand still swallowed Lilyanna’s. I would do it now, get it over with. My vision tunneled.
Before I could get within touching range of the prince, Clement blocked my path with his arm outstretched in front of me.
“What are you” I spluttered.
“You can’t get within three feet of the prince,” Clement said. His other hand gripped the hilt of his saber, knuckles white.
“Well, that’s”
Lilyanna interrupted. “Tam, I have had a wonderful dinner but now I am so very tired. I think we should head straight for my rooms.”
I slapped Clement’s arm as Lilyanna joined me, but he didn’t move. His face was set, features stony. An uptight, immovable wall. Already in position on the prince’s other side, Bryn nodded, and they moved in unison with him toward the doors.
A three-foot rule? That was ridiculous. Stupid Clement. I bet he just loved enforcing that, muscling people out of the way. He probably had a marked strip of measuring leather that he whipped out and rolled toward the prince’s feet to stake the boundary.
My breathing settled. It was fine. I could do it tomorrow.
A good night’s sleep would help me control my power anyway.
We followed, but as soon as we left the dining room, the passageway was already empty.
No footsteps, no rustle of clothing, no distant closing of a door. Where on earth had they gone?
“I wonder if we should get ourselves a pair of guards for moving around the castle.” I swiveled left and right, hesitant to strike off in the wrong direction again.
“You’re my guard.” She patted my arm fondly like you would a puppy. “And I have faith in you.”
I grimaced at her. Freeing the small knife from my boot, I palmed it, unable to stop myself from looking at the ceiling once more. “Then I’m sure we’ll sleep well tonight, my lady.”
* * *
The fire in my small hearth popped and crackled, its glow keeping my face warm despite the thin covers. Wind howled outside, muted by the thick stone walls. Hail peppered the pane like knuckles rapping on the glass, keeping me wide awake.
I stared at the dancing flames, trying to ignore how they threatened to take me back to the night of the storm. The slam of shutters against the windows, the scream of the wind...I needed to get out of here, to return South. The unpredictability untethered me.
Chill laced the air when I slid out of bed and into the shadows, gooseflesh crawling up my skin. The castle was too quiet, too still. Worry pitted in my gut.
Last time I’d ignored sensations like this, my world had ended.
I crept up the winding staircase. The metal dug into my bare feet, my toes curling around the treads for support. The door into Lilyanna’s room creaked open and thick, soupy air washed over me, leaving a sheen of moist sweat clinging to my skin.
Her hearth had extinguished, despite the large windows being bolted shut.
Faint gray smoke perforated the air like burned flowers.
I’d stoked it before retiring to bed, and added three fresh logs to the kindling, certain it would last well into the next morning.
Having made enough fires for survival, it was second nature.
Maybe the castle’s wood was tainted, veined with mold or blight.
Despite the humidity, I shivered. Magic unfurled in my bloodstream, stretching into my tingling fingertips, preparing for defense. My heartbeat accelerated.
Soft squelching followed my footfalls as I padded to Lilyanna’s bedchamber, the soles of my feet clammy on the tepid marble. Her door was tightly shut, no light flickering beneath the threshold.
My hand rested over the carved diamond knob. Was I being paranoid? I’d heard no one enter or leave as I’d tossed and turned downstairs. If I snuck into her room in the middle of the night, she’d scream and wake the whole castle.
I pressed my ear to the door, straining to listen over the whoosh of blood in my ears. Seconds passed, melting into minutes. I should go back to bed. I needed to be rested and fully alert to make sure I tagged the prince without detection.
The magic stubbornly surged, refusing to retreat, my fingertips on fire.
Something heavy collided with the floor inside the bedchamber, thumping onto the stone.
I flung the door open, the wall shuddering as it struck and bounced back. Lilyanna lay frozen on the floor, her entire body rigid and lifeless. I yelped and dropped to my knees, grabbing her shoulders and violently shaking her. She moaned, then fell silent again.
I pressed my fingers to her neck. Her pulse bounded and the exposed skin on her chest and legs flushed red hot as if she were feverish. Her body trembled, and she whimpered softly like a terrified animal backed into a corner.
I scooped her into my arms as best I could and hauled her onto the bed. The sheets were still smooth, not even a wrinkle marring the cool white silk. Her eyelids fluttered open, the mewling noises immediately severed.
“Tam?”
“Hey.” I pulled the sheets up and tucked them around her slim frame. “You fell out of bed. Was it a seizure? An episode? I bet they have a doctor nearby.”
She blinked slowly, barely able to stay awake. “You feel them watching, don’t you, Tam? Their whispers linger in the walls like echoes. Repeating over and over.”
I brushed her forehead. “There’s nothing there, it’s just the storm.” I forced my voice to be calm, to sound certain. Her skin cooled, the feverish sheen receding. “I’ll go and find help.”
She shook herself, forcing a shallow smile. “It was just a nightmare,” she whispered. “It only needs to be me and you, Tam. No one else. Don’t mind me, forget I said anything.”
“A nightmare?” Had I overreacted? If I ran through the castle screaming for help because she’d just had a bad dream, they’d fire me on the spot. Then I’d lose access. Telling a stranger about voices in the walls, that I wasn’t entirely sure weren’t there, would not be helpful either.
I smoothed a wayward lock of her hair, plucking it out of a hardening pool of sweat on the pillow. “Okay, a nightmare.”
She murmured agreement and nestled deeper into the covers. “I haven’t fallen out of bed since I was a young child.”
I sat on the edge of the downy mattress, her body rocking toward me slightly with the weight. “Well, if it keeps happening, I’ll get you some crib bars. Although, they’ll probably be made from diamond and so sharp they’ll impale you.”
She closed her eyes again, face softening.
“But then problem solved, I guess.”
Her soft breaths warmed the space between us.
“Lilyanna?” I tutted softly and crept up.
How could she fall back to sleep so easily?
The soles of my feet stuck to the floor.
Small particles of grit or something sharp slipped between my flexed toes on the hard stone.
Crouching down, I ran my hand across the floor and a clean streak of gray appeared, leaving my palm blackened.
Shining faintly in the dull twilight, a large patch of stone lay surrounded by thin dust. It fit perfectly with Lilyanna’s silhouette where she had fallen, but how had she not disturbed the ground around? And where did it come from?
The only dust I’d seen so far was when we got lost on the way to dinner.
Everywhere else was spotless. Maybe they only cleaned where they thought people would see?
Or perhaps they literally swept everything under the bed.
I hardly saw any staff, except in the kitchens, maybe this was the best they could do?
I suppose it could have arisen from the fireplace or become exposed from under the bed by a wayward draft.
I squinted up at the thick window. No breeze stirred and the rim was cemented shut like all the others.
Condensation pebbled the inside of the pane, trickling down and pooling on the floor in a slick oily puddle with flecks of black dust swirled through.
Distorted through the moisture, a grotesque carved face leered at me. Its deep eye sockets glinted in the sparse light, the diamond cores burning as if they were alive. Gnarled hands curled around the window frame, its long, pointed nails extended toward the glass.
I shook myself and stood up. That gargoyle must always have been there, I’d just not noticed it before.
I cursed whoever designed this room for their lack of drapes.
Backing toward the door, I kept one eye on Lilyanna to make sure she didn’t wake and one on the gargoyle who’s head inched around, following my retreat.
I chided myself again and willed my heart rate to return to normal. Quietly closing the door behind me, I headed over to fix the fire with hopes this would be my last nighttime ramble for a while.