Page 27 of Stolen

The Great Hall loomed ahead. After more scuffling and dragging, the demon pulled the massive doors open and yanked me inside.

And I saw the Hall from my dream in Aberwas.

The glittering, white perfection was no more. Now, the once-glorious Hall was as dusty and decrepit as the rest of the castle. But here, vines covered everything. They wrapped around the pillars and tangled on the floor.

Varick sat in the same chair at the stone table, but now the Hall was full of demons—male and female—twirling around the room in pairs. They moved in some kind of dance, only there was no music.

Midian stood on the opposite side of the table from Varick, his back to me. Varick looked more haggard than I remembered from my first visit, his eyes red-rimmed and his jaw covered in several days’ growth of blond beard. He stared up at Midian as though Midian was speaking to him. Whatever Midian was putting in Varick’s head, Varick didn’t like it. His cheeks were flushed, his lips compressed in a thin line.

Midian turned as my captor dragged me forward, dodging the dancers who swooped into our path.

“What is this?” Midian demanded, his noble features darkening.

I pinned the brick wall to the front of my mind and let my face go slack, a dreamy smile plastered on my face. A skeleton slumped in one of the chairs a few places down from Varick. I jerked my gaze away from it and tried to pretend I didn’t see the vines I was stepping over.

“She was gone,” my captor said, jerking me to a stop before the table. “She left, just like they used to do.” He tightened his grip on my arm, and I fought back a wince as his fingers dug into my muscle. He nodded toward Varick. “She’s stronger than that one. You should kill her.”

My gut clenched, my insides turning watery.

“You court danger,” the demon continued, his voice climbing. “She’s Avenor’s—”

“Enough,” Midian barked. Behind me, I sensed the dancers go still. Midian looked me over, and I stared at him with the wall in my mind and my smile fixed in place. I didn’t look away as he shifted his gaze to the demon holding me. His voice went low and silky. “Why were you in her room?”

My captor stiffened. “I was just checking—”

“You disturbed our guest. This displeases me, Arrol.”

Somewhere deep within the castle, bells rang. Not the tinkling sound I’d heard before. This was a deep, mournful clang, like the great bells that hung in the Towers of the Mir. The ringing cut off abruptly, and I held my breath as I waited to see if anyone reacted to the noise.

“You named me,” the demon holding me said, outrage in his tone. He twisted around like he meant to address the demons behind us. “I’ve done nothing to deserve this. I merely warned—”

“Out!” Midian shouted. “Get him out of my sight and show him the error of his ways.”

Arrol screamed. “No! No, please, not that—” His voice cut off as another demon swept forward and slung an arm around his throat. More swarmed him, ripping him from my side and dragging him from the Hall. They moved quickly but…oddly. I’d seen both Varick and Laurent move so fast they were little more than a blur.

But this was different. Similar to the jerky, exaggerated nodding Arrol had done in my bedchamber, it wasn’t quite right. When I was a child, a brother from the Tower of the Mind showed me a series of drawings he’d made. Each one was of the same image but just a little bit different. When he stacked the pages and flipped through them, the drawing appeared to move.

This was similar, only the demons weren’t drawings. They were very real, and as the doors of the Great Hall slammed behind them, a cold sweat broke out across my body.

Midian glared at the doors for a long moment before settling his gaze on me. I was ready for him, the brick wall solid in my head and my stupid smile intact.

“You probably think I’m an ungracious king,” he said, coming to me and extending his hand in a courtly gesture. “Kings shouldn’t shout when guests are present.”

I took his arm. “Did you shout, Your Grace?” It was something Laurent might have said. Maybe my husband was onto something with his evasions. It was an excellent way to keep enemies guessing.

Midian gave no reply as he led me to the chair I’d occupied before. He seated me and then settled at the head of the table. “We were just about to begin our feast.” He glanced at the demons scattered throughout the Hall.

And that was when I realized they hadn’t moved. Aside from the two who removed Arrol, the others had remained perfectly still from the time Midian said “enough.” No one blinked. Their chests didn’t rise and fall. On impulse, I listened for their heartbeats.

Nothing. The Hall was deadly quiet, the only sounds Varick’s heartbeat and mine.

I thrust Varick firmly from my head. I kept my gaze on Midian, not daring to so much as turn my head in Varick’s direction.

Midian clapped his hands. “Let us feast!”

The dancers began twirling as if they’d never stopped. The women’s skirts flared out and folded around the men’s legs. The big doors flew open again, and demons dressed in servants’ clothing brought food to the table in a steady stream.

There was no music, just the swish of skirts and the clatter of boots on stone. The demons kicked up dust as they spun in neat circles, their long hair flying. A servant placed a silver bowl in front of me. It held a watery soup with bits of pinkish meat bobbing on the surface. A damp, gamey smell hit my nose.

---