Page 85 of The Huntsman's Heart
“This charm is designed to attract monsters. The script is Akhaedian.”
I stare at her. “Is it true?”
She only laughs.
I step forward, slapping her across the face and silencing her. “How long? How long have the people of Blackthorn suffered and died because of you?”
She lifts her chin and meets my eyes, but still she’s silent.
Rage boils inside me. My fingernails dig into my raw, burned palms.
There’s a terrible pounding from below. The messenger boy in the corridor makes a sound of terror low in his throat. “Please, princess. The monsters. Someone said there’s a monster in the royal crypt too. He will devour us all.”
He’s visibly shaking now. With a curse, I step away from Melantha. “Bind her firmly. Évandre, keep watch over her. Alaric, take the guards and the hunters and defend the walls. Raban, go with him.”
I take the charm from Corvin and examine the thin bone disc. Hoping I’m doing the right thing, I snap the disc in two, dropping the remains into the fire.
Then I turn back to Melantha. “In the morning you will pay for everything you have done. Right now I will do what you should have done and save Blackthorn. Corvin, come with me. Let us see about this monster in the crypt.”
The messenger boy follows as Corvin and I gather weapons and head down to the crypt. He wrings his hands sadly. “Your Highness, please. I heard there was a fearsome monster down there.”
I slow for a moment and turn to him. “Don’t worry. We will take care of whatever we find down there.”
He follows anyway but stays quiet, his big brown eyes bulging from his head like turnips as we near the large stone door.
The crypt is where my ancestors are buried; their stone sarcophagi line the deep dark cavern with inscriptions to honor them. My father took me down once I had learned my letters andmade me read each one aloud before we could come up out of the chill.
I shiver just thinking about it, even though I no longer feel the cold. As we near the door, the great pounding comes again, shaking the door, reverberating down the corridor. Boom, boom, boom.
“The monster!” The young boy stares at the door, terrified.
“How could a monster get into the crypt?” Stepping forward, I place my open palm on the door, snatching it away again when the banging starts up, fiercer than before.
There is no other way in or out. If there is something in there, it would have had to come through these doors, but they are locked.
I try the handle myself just to be sure.
“Princess, are you sure we should open that? The doors seem sturdy. They would hold.”
“Blackthorn will never get any rest with this banging going on. I did not come here to leave things unfinished.” I turn to the messenger boy. “Fetch the steward. Tell Robards we need the key to the crypt.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He’s off in an instant, scurrying back down the corridor.
Corvin and I wait. My skin aches. Every movement feels like it will crack me in half.
“You should sit,” says Corvin.
I shake my head. “I cannot rest until they’re safe. I left them to her for too long.”
“Just while we are waiting.”
I still refuse. Even as I watch, my skin fuses back on my body and the angry welts start to sink.
Corvin approaches the doors, running a hand over the ornate carvings, inspecting the lock. “This is good craftsmanship.”
“The doors were imported when the castle was first built.”
“Hmm. And you are certain there’s no secret passageway or eroded stone?”
