Page 64 of Ocean of Ink
“If anyone calls upon me, tell them I have gone to bed. If Finn asks, tell him I am attending to an important investigation matter,” Castien instructed Heathford.
Heathford bowed. “Yes, Your Highness.” He held out Castien’s letter. “Would you like to carry this with you? Or should I deliver it another time?”
“I will take it, thank you, Heathford.” Castien tucked the letter inside his jacket, tied his cloak around his neck, then flipped up the hood and slipped into the hall.
The passage was dark, barely lit by low-burning torches every twenty paces. Castien’s Gift lit up a path that would get him to Wren the fastest. He rushed down the vein-like halls, splitting off wherever his Gift directed. After a series of twists and turns he stopped below a trapdoor that would lead him to the surface. He climbed the iron ladder and lifted one hand to push up the door. The door led to a room hidden behind a bookshelf in theparlor of House of Arythes. The room itself was small, with little else but an armchair and an unlit lamp.
Castien finished his ascent, then carefully shut the trapdoor so that it wouldn’t make any noise. There were more convenient exits and entrances to the underground passages, but they weren’t as fast as this one. The only risk was that there could be people in the parlor.
Castien looked through a small slit in the bookcase and held his breath while he waited to determine if anyone was present. There was no one, so he tugged on the red leather book that would turn the shelf into a door. He slinked into the parlor and through the House like a wraith. The guard that was posted in front of the house never ventured to the back, so Castien walked outside with no issue.
The fog was present as always, but not so thick that he could not see by the light of the moon. His footsteps were silent as he ran through the darkness. Cold wind bit at his skin and threatened to tear off his cloak, but he held it tight around him.
As he neared the Wall, Castien saw a figure in a familiar soft pink cloak. Wren. He slowed to a walk. With each step toward her, he went over a portion of a mathematical equation. He would remain calm and not alert her Gift.
She reached up, her delicate hand glowing beneath the shining moon. Her fingertips dug in as she pressed one of the bricks. The final one in the combination, Castien saw as he got closer.
Wren went to push against the door, and instinct took over Castien. He reached out and snagged her wrist, pulling her to face him. Her mouth opened to scream, and he covered it with his palm, slamming her into the wall. She thrashed beneath his grip, but it did little in the way of moving him.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed, Kalyxi?” he growled.
She stilled. Recognition lit in her pale blue eyes. She reached up and ripped off his hood. He let her pry off his hand. Shepushed it away from her then shoved his chest. Yet again, he didn’t budge.
“Who do you think you are, grabbing me like that?” she demanded.
“The man who saved your life,” he countered.
“You could have simplyspoken.” She wrapped her cloak tighter around her and Castien noticed she was trembling. He hadn’t intended to scare her, and he now realized his folly. After reading her journal, he should have known better than to touch her so freely. He took a step back.
“I apologize,” he said in a low voice. “I didn’t want to alert the guards. Then we’d both be suspects.”
She looked past him. Trepidation entered her gaze, as if she hadn’t thought that getting caught was an option.
“Why are you trying to leave the grounds?” Castien asked. “Do you have a death wish?”
Wren glared at him. “How did you know I was leaving?”
“Everyone knows how to use this door,” Castien lied. “You learn about it as a first-year, usually because a third or fourth-year dares you to see how long you’ll last before you come running back inside.”
Wren’s expression said she didn’t believe him. But Castien didn’t need her to. All he had to do was place a seed of doubt in her mind so she second-guessed whether this was something only the Order knew about. It was not as though she could ask anyone either, without giving away her own plans.
“That doesn’t explain why you’re out here now, though,” she said in an accusatory tone. She was attempting to transfer the focus onto Castien.
Castien slid the letter out of his jacket. Moonlight reflected off the red seal.
“I came to deliver this. Imagine my surprise when I saw you traipsing off to your death.”
Wren crossed her arms. “I was not going to leave. I just wanted–” she cut herself off. “Never mind that. Why were you delivering the letter and not your butler?”
“I felt like a stroll,” Castien delivered in a smooth tone.
“Past curfew? When there’s a murderer on the loose?”
“You have yet to answer my questions; why should I answer yours?” Castien challenged.
Wren looked away from him. He sighed.
“If you want to become a cryptura’s next meal, be my guest. I only thought I should give you the opportunity to think before you did it.”
