Page 42 of Oath of Blood and Joy

For one heart-stopping moment, I felt myself tipping forward, the courtyard spinning below me as gravity pulled at my body. A weak shadow tendril shot out, wrapping aroundthe gargoyle’s horn and stabilizing me just enough to regain my balance.

I straddled the stone beast, my chest heaving with effort and fear, legs dangling on either side of its wings as I took a moment to recover. From this vantage point, I could see more of the fortress grounds—the patrol patterns of the guards, the lit windows of what must be important rooms, and most intriguing, a balcony two floors below that appeared to lead into a study or office.

The maintenance ladder was only a few feet beyond the gargoyle now. I just needed to slide forward over the creature’s head and reach for the metal rungs. One wrong move, one slip, and I would plummet to the courtyard below—right next to the very box that had nearly killed Zoe.

Footsteps approached and I held my breath, hoping they wouldn’t see me. The shadows moved over me like a shroud, responding to my fear and desperate need for concealment. Despite the weak twilight, they seemed to thicken, drawing from the deepening corners of the fortress and the growing darkness of the sky. My heart hammered so loudly I was certain it would give me away.

A guard appeared on the parapet below, his face turned upward as he scanned the walls. Had he heard the falling mortar? Seen movement where there should be none? I pressed myself against the gargoyle, using its monstrous form to break up my human silhouette. The stone was cold against my cheek, gritty with centuries of exposure to the elements.

The guard lingered, his gaze sweeping back and forth. Just when I thought my trembling muscles would give out, he shook his head and continued his patrol, muttering something about “damned birds” nesting in the stonework.

The breath I’d been holding escaped in a silent stream. The shadows receded slightly, still clinging to me but no longeras dense. Had they responded to my need without conscious direction? The thought was both comforting and unsettling—how much of my power operated beyond my understanding?

There was no time to contemplate this now. Night was approaching quickly, and with it would come guard changes and possibly more thorough security checks. I needed to move.

I slid forward over the gargoyle’s head, careful not to dislodge any more stone fragments. My fingers stretched toward the maintenance ladder, the distance seeming to grow with every passing second. Just a few more inches...

My fingertips brushed against cold metal, the rust rough against my skin. I leaned farther, the muscles in my shoulder burning with the strain, until finally my hand closed around the ladder’s rung. With a silent prayer, I transferred my weight from the gargoyle to the ladder, the ancient metal creaking softly as it accepted my burden.

The descent was agonizingly slow since the ladder’s bolts had weathered decades of exposure to the elements. Twice, a rung shifted under my foot, sending my panic shooting through my limbs as I clung to the ladder for dear life.

As I climbed down, the fortress revealed itself to me in layers—guard posts, storage rooms, what looked like barracks. Through one window, I glimpsed men in Maximo’s signature black suits cleaning weapons. Through another, servants prepared food in a kitchen. This place was more than a hideout; it was a base of operations.

Two floors down, I paused beside a window larger than the others, its glass panes reflecting the last purple streaks of dusk. Heavy curtains were drawn inside, but a sliver of light escaped where they didn’t quite meet. This had to be an important room—perhaps Maximo’s office or a meeting chamber.

I pressed myself against the wall beside the window, straining to hear any voices from within. The wind carried fragments of conversation:

“...shipment arrives tomorrow...”

“...transformation isn’t stable yet...”

“...need the girl’s blood to complete the ritual...”

My blood ran cold. Were they talking about me? Or someone else? I needed to hear more, to understand the context of these ominous fragments.

“The Elder Dimension remains sealed,” a voice I recognized as Marsha’s said, her tone sharp with frustration. “The preliminary tests failed. We need more power.”

“The ancient texts are specific,” Maximo responded. “The blood of a shadow-wielder is the key to opening the portal. Once we access the Elder Dimension, their powers will be ours to command.”

“And the girl?” A third voice asked—male, but unfamiliar to me.

“She doesn’t even know what she is,” Marsha laughed, the sound sharp as winter frost cracking underfoot. “Her connection to the shadows is instinctive, untrained. Perfect for our purposes.”

“And once the portal is open?” the third voice pressed.

“Then the true gods return,” Maximo said with reverence that chilled me to the bone. “And this world bends to our will.”

Elder Dimension? Portal? True gods? The words meant nothing to me, yet everything about them felt wrong, dangerous. Whatever they were planning, I was meant to be sacrificed to achieve it.

Carefully, I edged closer to the gap in the curtains. The shadows around me deepened as true night began to claim the sky. I coaxed them to wrap around me like a cloak, obscuring my outline as I peered through the narrow opening.

What I saw inside made my heart stop.

Maximo stood with his back to me, his expensive suit jacket removed, shirt stretching across broad shoulders. For a moment, as he moved between a pair of ornate candelabras, something strange happened—his shadow on the wall wasn’t human-shaped. It stretched and distorted, with what looked like jagged extensions from his shoulder blades, writhing and folding like phantom limbs. But when he stepped away from the direct light, his shadow appeared normal again.

Had I imagined it? The conversation about the Elder Dimension had me seeing things that weren’t there—or was this connected to what Zoe claimed she saw?

Marsha circled a large stone table in the center of the room, her fingers trailing over ancient symbols carved into its surface. Maps and scrolls were scattered across it, along with what looked disturbingly like ceremonial daggers.

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