Page 107 of Vicious Is My Throne

Blackcastle was running out of time.

“We have to split up,” I reluctantly decided when Whitehall came into view, the stubby white turrets flying the house’s blue and gold colors. “If I drop the wall tomorrow, that should give the slaves time to reach Arcadia. Far enough to keep them safe.”

Because it wasn’t bad enough the wave killed, the magic also, apparently, turned people into monsters.

I pulled out a pilfered piece of paper from Rivière’s office and handed a rough sketch of the area to Tristan. “You three keep going north. There are three royal estates that border each other, Houses Warde, Helme, and Fortney. Raz and I will head south to Harehollow.”

Tristan looked like he wanted to argue then snapped his mouth shut, hand plunging into his pocket.

Raz’s voice was quietly intense. “We have three keystones, Anaria. Three. I can fucking feel the difference already.” He took a breath. “Let’s call this a day and head back to Ravenshade. Get some rest, conserve your strength until morning when you drop the ward.”

“I’m not leaving the stones here, letting these fuckers siphon off their power for a moment longer. They used those stones to subjugate people and keep them enslaved. Without the keystones, they’re powerless.”

Because that’s what this was about.

Not more power for us, but less power for them.

I didn’t care if we smashed the stones to bits with a hammer, I would not allow these arrogant fucks to use them to control another soul a moment longer.

“Then we make this fast.” Tavion studied the sky, the banners flapping in the wind, the sentries scrambling on the ramparts, his jaw set. “In and out, and I’m not fucking around this time. I am done negotiating with these arseholes. We take what we came for.”

We left Whitehall with yet another keystone, this one unidentified but every bit as powerful, magic thrumming around us when we parted ways at the end of the drive, Tavion and Tristan turning northward.

While we’d head south to Harehollow.

Something shivered down my spine. Not fear, not exactly, more like…premonition.

Lord and Lady Whitehall and their guards were locked in their own dungeon, their slaves packing the royal carriage with everything they could carry, hitched to the fastest horses in the stable. Raz gave them stern instructions to avoid Arcadia and head straight to Deepwater, where they could book passage on a ship.

We found no mass grave but heard stories of how the refugees had been driven off Whitehall land with clubs. Tavion might have misplaced the key to the dungeon after he’d locked the lord and lady inside, both of them screaming how we’d pay once they escaped.

When the last carriage disappeared down the drive, Raz lifted me onto the remaining horse from the Whitehall stables.

He wrapped his arm around my middle and turned our mount southward. “You’re making a difference, Anaria.” Raz leaned in and buried his face in my hair. “These people all have a chance at a better life because of you.”

Unless I killed them all when I released the magic.

“Let’s go.” I leaned back against Raz and shoved my dread back down.

When we reached the outskirts of Harehollow’s grounds, our obstinate mount wouldn’t take another step.

Then I felt the air change.

A deep, ominous sigh like the world itself was disappointed, but the sound made my blood run cold, sending our horse prancing off the path. “What the fuck is that, Anaria?”

“I don’t know,” I breathed, clinging to the horse’s mane with both hands to stay seated. “I’ve never seen any of Varitus beyond the Ravenwood estate.”

I swallowed. “But I’ve heard the stories.”

Nestled deep within ancient, overgrown grounds, Harehollow Manor was a dark, sinister monument with towering spires sharp as jagged knives, casting long shadows that seemed to writhe with a life of their own. Something moved in those shadows, furtive, creeping movements, and our mount snorted, yanking at the reins.

“We should turn around, Raz.” I clenched my hands to stop them from shaking. “This place…they say Harehollow is cursed. Because the family that lived here did…evil things.”

Dusk was still a few hours away, but the estate was covered in a lurking, oppressive gloom, swallowing fine details in darkness. Raz dismounted outside the ivy-clad wall cracked and weathered with age. “Don’t get down. If anything comes out of those shadows, turn this beast around and ride hard the way we came.”

“And leave you here? I don’t think so.”

We had magic.

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