Page 94 of Of Kings and Thieves

I shook my head. “It’s destroyed. But we should look there anyway. Maybe the bastard was crushed at the last.”

“No,” Col said. “I saw him when the soldiers hauled us out of there, and he was alive. I’m not disappointed, really, because I want to personally feed that snake to the fish in the lake.”

“Or roast him over a fire,” Silvius added.

“We don’t want to eat him, bard,” Melion muttered. “Tear him limb from limb, maybe.”

Silvius snorted.

“What of Moredanea’s chambers?” I asked. “She rarely leaves The Harrow’s side. And her magic implies she needs components from her room to craft her enchantments.”

Melion nodded. “A sound theory. We should search there as well.”

“They could have used the Darkrift to simply flee home,” Killian said, trying to sit up.

I glanced at him. “Can The Harrow walk the Darkrift alone?”

Killian shook his head. “No, but there are plenty of Deviants about to open it for him. And bear him far from here, back to the safety of Harrowfell.”

My heart sank at the possibility. For all our determination, The Harrow and Moredanea remained steps ahead, prepared for any outcome. They had allies and means of escape we couldn’t begin to predict.

A muscle worked in Col’s jaw, and his gaze met mine, clouded with doubt.

My instincts told me Moredanea remained in her chambers, plotting something heinous. “Moredanea isn’t accustomed to losing control, and abandoning the castle doesn’t seem like her style. I’ll wager she’s still here, in her chambers, where she tried to force me to kill Magnus.”

Col nodded. “It’s our best guess, at the moment.”

The others murmured their agreement. Col’s hand dropped to his belt, where Bloodsong should have been.

I squeezed his arm. “We’ll make do with what we have.” I moved to the dead soldiers outside the door and knelt, prying a sword and dagger from their slackened grip.

Col did the same, testing the weight of each weapon before sliding them into his belt. Not the famous blades of his ancestors, but they would serve.

We continued down the stairs, Melion supporting a stumbling Killian, who refused to stay behind. Kolvar took the lead. I walked at Col’s side, our fingers entwined. Silvius brought up the rear, muttering under his breath about stairs and dust.

The castle was eerily silent but for our footsteps and the occasional ominous creak of stone, the sounds of panic having faded as those who were alive had gotten out, or those who were dying had ceased calling for help. I shivered and walked faster.

Once again, we navigated rubble and ruined corridors. Halfway through our journey, a handful of soldiers appeared, weapons raised to bar our path. But their eyes turned wide with fear when they saw us, their stance lacking conviction.

“Run along, lap dogs, if you value your lives,” Melion snarled, fangs bared though he wasn’t fully shifted. The soldiers wavered, then fled down an adjacent corridor to parts unknown.

After what seemed an age of climbing and crawling, we emerged into a long gallery, the entrance to Moredanea’s chambers visible at the far end. The door to her room stood open, a dim glow spilling from within.

I glanced at Col, who nodded and took the lead, hand on his borrowed blade. We filed silently into the room behind him, gazes searching the shadows for the sorceress.

The chamber was in disarray but largely intact, shelves of sinister components knocked askew, their contents spilled across the floor. The balcony doors were open to the afternoon sun, a wind billowing through and guttering candles.

My heart skipped a beat.

Moredanea stood in the center of the room, over a giant rune in the floor. At our entrance, she turned, golden eyes glowing with magic, a smile on her lips. Her skin was as green as the glittering dress she wore.

A creak of wood drew my attention to a doorway on the far side of the room, almost hidden in shadow. Two Deviants emerged and glided into the center of the rune, hands outstretched and beginning an incantation in a language I didn’t know. She flung out her arms and the rune flashed, blinding in its intensity.

Darkness slammed down like a cloak, leaving us in silence and shadow, cut off from light and escape.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The chamber descended into chaos. Moredanea’s magic had plunged us into darkness, shadowy forms moving frantically around us. I clutched at Col’s arm, panic threatening to overwhelm my senses. We were blind against her power, easy targets for whatever plan she had set into motion.

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