Forty-two
Ariadnne
Ariadnne’s company trudged past with heavy feet as they made their way back down the path. Ariadnne’s eyes settled on Josef, reminding her that Kayla was absent and that she was running out of chances to talk to someone she trusted.
Thinking of her friend helped steady her. Melixanthe was gone. Nieve had been taken, but Kayla was someone she could turn to for help and hells did she need a familiar face.
She made up her mind.
As they passed through the main gate, Sascha hurried to her side and took her hand, her face crumpled in her own grief.
‘Let me take you back, your guard is waiting over—'
‘Not yet, Sascha.’ Ariadnne stopped her. Tomorrow she might be shackled with another handler; she certainly wouldn’t be free the way she was for the next few moments. This might be her last chance to speak freely with someone she trusted.
‘Oh?’ Sascha’s eyebrows rose. ‘The cooks have prepared you a special meal…’ She wrung her hands together.
Ariadnne gave her a tight-lipped smile. ‘Probably best you say I gave you the slip, then. Just in case.’
‘Look, Ari, whatever it is, why don’t you come back to your rooms and think on it. I don’t think you should draw any more Council attention right now,’ Sascha said, agitated, but Ariadnne shook her head.
‘I know you’re worried, but I’ll be back before anyone knows I’m gone. I promise.’ Ariadnne backed away, hoping Sascha wouldn’t follow. ‘You turned around and I’d disappeared…’
She spun on her heel, walking briskly towards the training yard.
Everyone else would be attending the service dinner.
She had time—until her guard found her, anyway.
Her footsteps followed her earlier path through the entrance halls and corridors until she found the yard, then she went straight towards her company’s barracks.
Her steps echoed as she began checking rooms, opening doors either side to find empty quarters.
Another empty, and another. Not knowing which was Kayla’s, she almost decided to give up and head back before she was caught when she heard a noise; a muffled sob.
Her ears pricked, leading her to yet another unassuming door.
It was unlocked and swung open under her hand.
Kayla rocked at the edge of her bed, tears leaving silver trails down her cheeks.
Her skin was a mess of pink and red blotches, her curly hair unkempt as she glanced at the door.
Ariadnne started toward her in instant concern but stopped as Kayla scrambled backwards.
Her lips moved without words, mouthing a silent ‘I’m sorry’, and a cold chill settled in the pit of Ariadnne’s stomach.
What possible reason would Kayla have to be frightened of her?
Unless…
‘Kayla, why weren’t you at the service?’
Betrayal punched a hole in her gut. Kayla had befriended her, had befriended Nieve. Ariadnne had trusted her.
Icy calm settled into her bones, her legs moving with predatory slowness. When she spoke, her voice was low and dangerous.
‘Why? Kayla.’
Kayla’s mouth gaped open and she edged back further onto her bed, eyes darting for the doorway. It was an admission of guilt, but Ariadnne wanted to hear it from her lips.
‘I… I couldn’t.’ The terrified knight swallowed, her expression conveying a thousand words.
‘Was it you?’
Kayla stayed silent.
‘I said, was it you?’ Ariadnne raised her voice. She was close to losing control, her dragon coiling and spewing ice round her insides, misting her breath as scales shimmered across her brow.
‘They… they… ordered me to…’ Kayla stammered.
‘I watched her for them. That was all it was meant to be… I was to give them reports. I… I told them about the letters she was receiving.’ Her words came fast, as though she could save her life with the truth.
‘They were displeased by one I intercepted for them.’ She swallowed. ‘They asked me to arrange an accident.’
‘The arrow at training,’ Ariadnne said flatly.
‘Yes, but Nieve was too quick.’ Her eyes flicked to the door, licking her lips. ‘I’m sorry, I told them my suspicions about you two. They wanted Nieve removed, too. She’d been asking questions about Melixanthe… I didn’t want to, I didn’t. They threatened my family… my brothers…’
Ariadnne didn’t take her eyes off Kayla, mind racing, struggling to find a trace of pity.
Kayla could have said something to Nieve, or even Ariadnne.
They would have found a way to stop all this from happening.
Somehow. Disgust spooled between her ribs, her dragon begging to be set free, to rip her limb from limb.
‘Wh… what are you going to do?’ Kayla asked with a quivering voice.
‘Oh, if I could, I’d kill you right now.’ Ariadnne bared her teeth. ‘Unfortunately, I need you. So, the real question is what are you going to do?’
Kayla stared at her.
‘The right answer is that you are going to march out there with me and admit to what you’ve done in front of everyone, proving Nieve’s innocence.
Trust me, the Council will be far more merciful with you than I would be if I had my way with you, but Nieve won’t suffer another sharding day for what you did. ’
Ariadnne didn’t wait for a response. She didn’t care that Kayla had been coerced. It was her fault Melixanthe was dead, her fault Nieve languished in a filthy cell, awaiting execution. She grabbed Kayla by the back of her neck, hauling her to her feet while Kayla sobbed, stumbling out in front.
‘Let’s go,’ Ariadnne growled.
She marched Kayla all the way to the dining hall, a room she’d barely been inside in all her years as a slave.
It was grand; a room fit for kings in which fae from the service had gathered on long tables, feasting and laughing in memory of their general.
All under the watchful eye of the Council, who were seated in ceremony at the head of the room.
As Ariadnne forced Kayla forwards, a hush fell across the crowd, necks craning as everyone strained to get a glimpse of the spectacle.
Councillor Leth rose, pushing his chair back.
‘What is the meaning of this?’
‘Councillors. Kayla has a confession.’ Ariadnne snarled as she shoved Kayla forwards onto her knees. ‘Speak.’
‘I… I…’
‘Louder, Kayla. The whole hall wants to hear you.’
Kayla looked at her with pleading eyes, but Ariadnne’s heart was stone. She would get no quarter there. Kayla closed her eyes as if accepting her fate.
‘It was me,’ she said in a clear voice. ‘I killed the General.’
Josef stood in shock, face paper-white. Noise erupted as everyone started talking at once.
‘Silence!’ Councillor Jagen roared, his expression furious. ‘You dare to interrupt this feast in our general’s honour?’
Ariadnne’s eyes widened as she realised his disdain was aimed at her, not Kayla.
‘What could be more important than bringing the true killer to light?’ She snapped. ‘It is exactly what she would want.’
Councillor Leth raised a hand to quiet her.
‘What evidence do you have that it was this young knight?’ he said with an unnerving smile. ‘Does she have motive?’
‘Evidence? I’ve heard it from her own lips—’
‘You are quite intimidating when you are angry, my dear,’ Councillor Vesta chimed in. ‘Has anyone ever told you that?’
‘What has that got to do with—’
‘The poor thing is clearly terrified.’ Councillor Leth gestured towards Kayla. ‘Come here, girl, away from the varanya.’
Kayla glanced at Ariadnne with terror before stumbling to her feet, towards the head table.
‘Now, it seems clear to me,’ continued Leth, ‘That Ariadnne has become delusional in her grief and has coerced this poor knight into the confession of an act she could not possibly have committed. Why I’m sure I saw her in the training yard that evening.’
Ariadnne went cold, if she’d needed proof that the entire Council were behind the order to take out her handler, the row of stony faces staring at her while Leth outright lied to give Kayla an alibi, was it.
It didn’t matter how much evidence she found—they would never release Nieve. They would rather kill her and deal with Ariadnne’s grief in the hope that she became more tractable later, than allow them a chance.
She saw Leth beckon to the guards at the back of the hall, and Councillor Jagen made a subtle gesture toward his neck that made Ariadnne go cold.
The collar. Her breaths quickened. She could kill them now, end their monopoly over the varanyen—but if she shifted who else would die?
Her eyes flicked to the hall of knights and varanyen at her back.
She would have to fight her way out, and kill half the knights—who, if they were anything like Nieve, might be innocent.
She backed away, refusing to say another word. She wouldn’t be responsible for more death, and she wouldn’t stay there long enough to be shackled. She turned and fled.
She ran past outstretched arms, barrelling through bodies with luck and surprise on her side, using every second that gave her to her advantage.
She slammed into the doors, heart pulsing in her ears as her bare feet pounded against stone. They were behind her. She didn’t have long.
The heavens opened, angry, vengeful rain lashing against her face, mixing with her bitter tears. The fabric of her dress clung to her body like a second skin, the floor of the parade ground slippery and treacherous.
She had to reach the south wing. Had to free Nieve—before she erupted in the mass of scales and claws that gathered beneath her skin.
Waiting. Pressing. Ready for her to control to slip.
Gasping breaths ripped down her throat; her dragon was angry enough to raze the castle, but Ariadnne couldn’t count on the beast not burying Nieve in the rubble.
She sprinted into the south wing, wet feet slipping beneath her. The sound of the rain beating the side of the cliff was a roar in her ears, masking the sound of her haggard breath. She took the stairs at breakneck speed, spiralling into the castle’s bowels.
A singular guard waited at the bottom, rising as she staggered round the corner. He was young; still green behind the ears, lips blanching in fear.
I don’t want to hurt you. Let me through.’ Ariadnne grated, her voice unnaturally deep with a gravelly edge as her vocal cords struggled to maintain shape, her body begging to stretch.
‘I… I can’t. We’re under strict orders… after last time.’ The guard swallowed.
‘You don’t understand, I have to see her.’
Her eyes changed, becoming many-faceted as they betrayed the truth of her words. A ridge of scales broke along her arm.
Booted footsteps clattered down the stairs behind her.
‘Please!’ she begged. ‘Stand aside!’
But the young guard stood his ground. He raised his sword with a quivering hand. Ariadnne had no weapon, nothing to fight with. She considered barging past regardless in the belief that he wouldn’t strike to kill the Guild’s precious varanya.
Behind her, the first of the guards emerged from the stairwell, assuming a defensive position as his comrades fanned out beside him. There was no way she could escape back up the stairs now. She was trapped. She clutched at her head as her spiralling emotions threatened to overwhelm her.
A snarl escaped her lips.
She couldn’t hold on. Her fingers shifted into talons as her dragon muscled forward. If it won, it would probably bring this whole part of the castle down around their ears. She closed her eyes.
Her edges felt blurry.
A searing pain shot through her thigh. Crying out in shock, she opened her eyes. They widened at the gaping tear in her dress, a dark stain spreading across the fabric and dripping crimson onto the floor. She looked in shock at the guard before her, clutching his bloody sword. He’d stabbed her.
Her surprise turned to dread as a heavy, numb feeling sank into her muscles from her leg outwards. Her shifting features stuttered to a halt, the scales that had been spreading up her arms dissipating as she fell to her knees.
Ariadnne lifted her eyes to the fearful face of the guard who had wounded her, to the sword that must have been laced with poison.
Her vision fogged as it spread throughout her body.
She barely had enough time to register that the guard looked horrified at what he’d done before darkness overtook her, and she knew no more.