Page 21 of Stolen

At the head of the table, Midian turned from Given and smiled at me. “Is that so?”

“What?” Given asked, her tone confused, almost sluggish. If they’d drugged her, I wasn’t sure I could control my rage. But drugging her didn’t make sense. They couldn’t break into her thoughts if she was unconscious. Sleeping had always been the safest way to spend time around my father. As long as I slept alone.

“Nothing, dear,” Midian told her without breaking my stare. “Do you want dessert?” When Given murmured something, he smiled. “Of course. I pride myself on being a good host. I want you to have everything you want.”

Foreboding dripped down my spine. The demon on my shoulder laughed again in Laurent’s voice.

“You too, General,” Midian said, and I knew then why he wanted Given and me alive. His blue eyes gleamed with malice. “You can have everything you want. Even the things that make you furious.”

Chapter Seven

GIVEN

The rest of the castle was as impressive as the Great Hall. I walked beside Midian and took it all in, gazing wide-eyed at pristine hallways and marble floors and grand staircases with carved banisters that stole my breath with their beauty. Vai Seren was as spectacular as the histories claimed. It was a shame no one ever got to see it.

There was a reason for that, but it escaped me at the moment. I frowned as we moved into a broad hall lined with statues. Once again, I had the strongest sense I was forgetting something, and that it was really important I remember it.

“Did you enjoy dinner?” Midian asked.

“Yes.” I pushed my worries aside and smiled up at him. “It was lovely, thank you.” But even as I said it, the nagging feeling tugged hard. Was the dinner lovely? My stomach was full, and I was pleasantly drowsy from the wine I’d drunk. Midian was an entertaining host. He’d held my attention with his stories about the castle and its architecture. He even promised to show me all of Vai Seren during my stay. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that not everything at dinner had unfolded perfectly. Something was missing.

And did I really want to stay?

“Of course you do,” he said.

I stopped. “I beg your pardon?”

He swung around, a question in his eyes. “Is anything wrong?”

“No, I just…thought I heard you say something.”

“The hall echoes.” He gestured around. “Do you enjoy art? These statues are ancient. Several date to the earliest days of the elven empire.”

Obediently, I swept my gaze down the statues. They lined both sides of the long, narrow room, their bodies carved from solid pieces of white stone. Each one stood on a pedestal, so I had to crane my neck to see their faces.

“They look solemn,” I said.

He laughed softly. “Well, most of them were nobles. I suppose they were trying to look impressive.”

I wandered down the line. There were males, of course, but quite a few females, as well. Like the men, they wore their hair down, letting it flow over proud shoulders. Pointed ears were visible among the stone strands. “It must have taken forever to carve these,” I said, drifting farther down the line. A female loomed above me, her face achingly beautiful. Her arms were outstretched, her palms turned up like she was offering something. But her hands were empty. Her gown was carved to look like it spilled over the edge of the pedestal. I brushed the edge of the smooth stone, tracing a curve of what I imagined had been velvet.

My vision flickered. It lasted just a few seconds, but the hall changed completely. The statues were tumbled and broken, marble body parts strewn across a dusty floor. A jagged path cut through the dust, as if someone had swept it—or dragged something heavy between the crumbled statues. Thick vines draped over the remains of the pedestals, which were stained black and covered with cobwebs. The pungent, slightly sweet smell of rot assaulted my nose.

I blinked, and everything returned to normal. The change was so disorienting, I might have fallen if not for my grip on the statue’s gown. When I looked up, she lowered her chin and met my eyes. Her lips didn’t move, but a feminine voice spoke in my head.

“See the brick wall.”

I jerked away from the pedestal, half expecting to stumble over debris. But the floor was smooth and whole, the statues unblemished. Unbidden, an image of a brick wall sprang into my mind. I saw it just as the statue had commanded.

Except statues couldn’t speak. Of course, they couldn’t move, either, but this one had.

Hadn’t she?

Midian strolled ahead, his hands clasped behind his back. If he’d noticed the statue turning its head and talking, wouldn’t he have said something? The brick wall stayed in my mind. I looked up at the statue again, but she gazed straight ahead, her marble eyes unseeing.

I followed Midian, moving down the statues toward an arched doorway. But now my heart pounded, and tension tightened my shoulders. The sensation was familiar—like my skin didn’t quite fit over my bones.

It was familiar because I’d felt it before, I realized. When I ventured into the Thicket alone, looking for Varick.

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