Page 82 of Of Kings and Thieves

A bitter laugh bubbled up inside me, threatening to burst forth. What a fine hero I made—powerless to save even those I loved most.

But as I looked at Laney, her face pale and tear-streaked, I knew I had no choice but to try. For Laney’s sake, for Col’s, for every innocent life that hung in the balance. Finally, I knew exactly how Col felt, though I had thought I understood before.

The whispers around me faded into a dull roar as I forced myself to focus on Moredanea’s smug face. Internally, I raged against her, against The Harrow, and against every twisted soul that reveled in this debauchery.

With trembling legs, I stepped away from the table, forcing my body to bend in a mockery of submission. I didn’t stop until I was on my knees with my head bent, eyes gazing at the floor.

“Your Majesty,” I said, surprising even myself with how effortlessly the false respect slipped from my tongue.

Moredanea hummed with satisfaction. “Prove your loyalty to me, and we shall see what can be done for your sister. Now rise.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

If I thought my show of fealty would get me out of trouble, I was mistaken. As soon as the feast ended—I hadn’t eaten a thing—the guards ushered me out of the great hall and rushed me through the castle.

They ended at a heavy door deep within the southern side of the castle. The air grew heavier with each step, and the distinct tang of magic made my head spin.

The door groaned open, revealing a dimly lit chamber that reeked of magic and decay. As I stepped inside, the stoic guards flanking me, an oppressive atmosphere settled around us. Ancient glyphs pulsed red along the stone walls in a slow, steady beat like a diseased heart. They reminded me of the glyphs in the labyrinth. The air itself seemed to thrum with dark energy that set my teeth on edge. The large glass doors in the wall looked out to a balcony with a view of the lake at sunset. It would have been spectacular if I hadn’t been so worried about being Moredanea’s victim for another ritual.

“You will wait here,” one guard said tersely before they retreated to the edges of the room, their eyes never leaving me.

I clenched my fist, trying to ignore the gnawing anxiety in my gut. My eyes darted around the chamber, searching for any possible escape route. All it would take was a few notes of my song to put the guards into an enchanted slumber, but it meant nothing if I couldn’t escape with my loved ones.

The chamber door opened once again, and Laney was escorted into the room. Relief washed over me as my eyes locked onto her wide, fearful gaze.

“Samara!” she cried, and I rushed to envelop her in a tight embrace, feeling the months apart dissolve in that single moment. I hugged her close, barely believing she was real and not another nightmare conjured from the Darkrift.

“Are you all right?” I asked urgently, inspecting her small frame for any signs of harm. There were no visible injuries, and I breathed a sigh of relief and held her to me once more.

Laney’s small arms wrapped around my neck in a fierce hug. “The scary lady said I could come see you. I was so worried.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Gently, I set her down and smoothed her hair away from her face. “Everything’s going to be all right now.”

The lie tasted bitter on my tongue. Nothing was all right, and it wouldn’t be as long as we were prisoners of The Harrow. But I couldn’t tell her that.

Laney sniffled. “When can we leave? I don’t like that lady.”

“I don’t like her either.” An understatement. “We have to be careful around her.”

“Can we go home?” Laney’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I want to go home.”

Home. The word was a knife twisting in my chest. Our home was gone, burned to ashes. All we had left was each other. But if Laney was asking about home, then maybe she didn’t see it burn. Perhaps she was spared the sight of our father’s and friends’ deaths. I could only hope that was the case.

I held on to Laney as if I could shield her from the dark forces surrounding us. “I’m so sorry, we can’t go home. But I’m here and I won’t ever leave you. We have to stay together now, no matter what happens. Promise me you’ll do as I say so I can keep you safe.”

She looked up at me and planted a kiss on my cheek. “I promise. I’ll be brave like you.” Tears glistened in her large eyes, and I knew from her haunted expression that she had endured horrors while we were separated. My relief morphed into guilt, a heavy weight settling on my chest. I had left her alone, unprotected, and my guilt at her death was nothing compared to my fear for her now.

Our reunion was short-lived, as the door slammed open once more. Moredanea swept into the chamber, wearing a new black gown that flowed and cast shadows like dark tendrils across the walls. It reminded me of Killian’s cloak.

“Let’s get down to business,” Moredanea said, turning to face us from the center of the room.

“How did you find her?” I asked, not expecting an answer.

The Deviant sniffed, her former drunkenness gone, replaced with a cold indifference that I didn’t like any better. “You were sloppy. The Deviant you enchanted in Prismvale came to me with a tale of a half-breed sorceress. Bloody fool thought you were something to fear.”

Moredanea paused to give me a moment to react, and the pieces fell into place.

“He found my home?” I choked out.

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