Page 84 of Mistress of Bones
“There might be another entrance?” she asked. Despite speaking in low tones, their words still echoed in the cavernous space.
“Not on the map either.”
“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”
“Bring the lamp closer,” he said, taking out some small metal tools.
Azul watched in fascination as he tried to pick the lock. Did Captain de Macia know her men boasted these kinds of skills? “Will you teach me how to do this?”
“He will not.”
Azul jumped with a scream, her free hand slamming against her chest as if to stop her heart from galloping away.
The tools clattered to the floor. Esparza unsheathed his rapier and brought its tip perilously close to Virel Enjul’s stomach.
Azul couldn’t look away. Blood rushed in her ears, her mind gone blank. Caught red-handed, and so easily. Enjul must’ve followed to see who was helping her. She had overstepped, as Enjul knew she would. He would now drag her to Almanueva and then to Valanje, and who knows when she would get another opportunity like this? It might never happen. Itwouldnever happen—this, she knew with certainty.
He must be stopped.
But how? Render him unconscious? Tie him up? How long until he awoke, or someone came across him and freed him? It was two against one, but he seemed so tall and wide and overwhelming she found it hard to believe they could best him in a fight. They were at a disadvantage, for this man wouldn’t hesitate to end their lives.
And so, he must die.
No more talks. No more contests of words. No more standing by his side, wondering what truly lay beneath the mask.
Slowly, Azul turned her wide-eyed stare to Esparza. He had a calculating look on his face. He must be thinking the same thing.
A knot formed in her throat, the pressure in her chest becoming unbearable.
If she was to see her sister alive, Virel Enjul, Emissary of the Lord Death, must die.
The certainty made her mouth dry up and her heart pound and her hands sweat.
Nereida had tried to do away with him back in Diel, and it didn’t work. Would he stay dead this time, this far from the Lord Death’s land? It seemed impossible that he might disappear from her life with such ease.
“You plan to kill me,” he said with that arrogant lift of his mouth Azul knew so well, hated so much.
Esparza shrugged, his sword still pointed at Enjul’s chest. “No onesaw us come, no one will see us leave. Someone else’s mess to clean. Or you could leave.”
“No need for such extremes. As it happens, I’m quite curious about this place myself. I suggest we join forces and get on with it.”
A hiss of disbelief escaped Azul at the same time Esparza tensed and said, “Somehow, I don’t believe this good fortune.”
The emissary ignored him and held Azul’s gaze—a tether he was daring her to snap. “Do not test my patience.” His voice reverberated in that strange way sounds travel in the cavern of a hall. It made him sound otherworldly.
It made her feel glad.
Oh-so glad.
Esparza cursed and lowered his rapier. Enjul pushed him aside to inspect the old lock.
Azul’s knees wobbled and she leaned against the cold bars of the gate, holding on to the lamp with both hands. He truly meant to help? Her stomach turned, part surprise, part hope.
Between Enjul and Esparza, they got the lock open. The gate moved soundlessly, well oiled and well used, the spikes and swirls in the iron forming bizarre shadows against the ground. The tunnel beyond was built out of the same dark stone as the hall, making her feel as if they were walking straight into the Void.
A series of octagonal rooms blossomed from the end of the tunnel, their surfaces hoarding the lamplight. Bones covered every open space and every carefully carved niche, artfully arranged in bizarre mosaics of skulls and limbs.
“Well?” Esparza asked from his spot at the end of the tunnel. His eyes flickered from room to room, his hand tight around his rapier’s grip. Enjul stood by his side, saying nothing, waiting, hands loose by his sides, long sword hanging by his thigh.
