The Broken Realm

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The Broken Realm Page 63

by Sarah M. Cradit


  And Oldwin knew they were down here. She was certain of it. He would let them wither away. More, he’d enjoy it.

  “Esmerelda,” Assana said, shaking her cousin to wake her. “I think we have to try and leave here.”

  Esmerelda nodded. The dark crescents under her eyes had grown, too. Assana reflected on how she had judged their situation by Esmerelda’s appearance, but what of her own? Would a mirror be enough to recognize herself?

  “Correen said we could climb down to where the small ships dock.”

  “She also said we would freeze to death or drown.”

  “It’s the only way, unless we want to take our chances returning to the main floor.”

  “What then?”

  “There must be something down there that can help us. You heard her. Shipments come in, so they must go out. There may be a vessel.”

  “They’ll be watching for us.”

  “Do you want to die here slowly, or take our chances?”

  Esmerelda looked down at her belly. “I don’t even know if my child is alive anymore. The Guardians have forsaken us.”

  Assana reached forward and clasped both her hands. “The Guardians have given us a choice. If your child is lost, then it is lost. But what if it is not? What if we could save them?”

  “Do you know where we’re going?”

  “I saw a hall behind the stairs. Correen gestured there. That must be where we climb down to sea level.”

  “And then what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Esmerelda used the shelf to pull herself up. “Forgive any weakness in my words, Assana. It’s not who I want to be.”

  “We are whoever we choose to be. We, Esmerelda, the women who took our fates into our own hands, to whatever end. Shall we?”

  Esmerelda slid her hand through Assana’s. They both allowed themselves a parting, fleeting glance at the bloated corpse of Correen Rhiagain.

  Assana was the first out the door. They were alone, but it didn’t calm her nerves. Even the slow death awaiting them in the meat storage was not enough to quell her fear she’d steered them wrong by leaving what had kept them safe so far.

  Never mind that, she thought, and darted down the long hall. Esmerelda was several paces behind. She came to the end, proud to have been right. They’d never know what respite awaited them below unless they climbed down.

  Assana pulled at the heavy metal rung. It didn’t budge. She tried again, and the edges of the door shifted only slightly. She stumbled back. There was no use. She wasn’t strong enough to do it herself.

  Esmerelda appeared at her side. She slid her fingers through the rung. “Together.”

  Assana nodded. “Together.”

  They planted their feet and pulled in tandem. The heavy door swung up and nearly knocked them both over as it crashed to the floor.

  “Feck,” Esmerelda hissed. “You think they heard that above?”

  “Go. Take the ladder first, and I’ll listen for them.”

  Esmerelda eased herself down with Assana’s help. Assana looked past her and saw a dock built of wood and iron, but that was all she could see from up above.

  When Esmerelda was halfway down, Assana followed her. After she’d descended enough for safe clearance, she reached up and gave one hard tug on the inside rung of the door. With a deafening thud, it fell to a close.

  Her heart dropped. They would not be able to reopen it. There would be no returning to the safety of the smelly meat room. Wherever this led, it was where they must go now.

  Esmerelda dropped down onto the docks and disappeared. When Assana joined her, she saw there were iron grates all around, and at the far end, the portcullis Correen had mentioned. Esmerelda found the wheel that opened it and waved.

  “Is that...” Assana pointed at a small wooden ship, bobbing in the current. The hull was hardly big enough for the two of them, and she couldn’t imagine it enduring the tides once they left harbor. The rope tethering it to the pole had rotted away. It barely held on.

  “Our only choice? Seems like it,” Esmerelda said. “Help me with this wheel.”

  Assana joined her and together they grimaced through the task, turning their bodies with the wheel, their grunts escalating to muted screams as the portcullis slowly opened.

  “I know nothing about ships,” Assana confessed. “Beyond what oars do.”

  Esmerelda, bent over from exhaustion, laughed. “I know less than I should about many things, Assana, but if there’s one thing this Southerlander knows, it’s salt and sand and the ships that connect them.”

  “If they did hear the door, they’ll be coming.”

  “Aye.”

  “So we go.”

  “We go.”

  Assana nodded at the boat that would either save them or end them. “After you.”

  * * *

  Ravenna had circled the keep at Duncarrow for days, dodging the arrows of the guard now belonging to the man who claimed to be her father.

  His magic couldn’t touch her. That was a blessing, if nothing else was. She’d seen Oldwin on the ramparts, trying. Failing. A part of her thought she might be satisfied spending the remainder of her days like this, taunting him, serving as a constant reminder of his limitations.

  But she didn’t stay for him.

  She’d made a vow, and she would keep it.

  As the days lingered on, her hope dwindled. If Esmerelda was not dead, then she was a prisoner of a creature who had no use for her. Ravenna was untouchable, but she was not invincible. She could not enter the keep alone.

  She’d accepted that what she needed was aid when her eye caught sight of the small brown dot bobbing against the rising current. Her hope surged once more. She didn’t dare swoop in and draw the eyes of the relentless guard with it.

  Ravenna carved the same path as she had all these long days, curating for Oldwin’s lackeys the predictability needed to keep the attention on herself, and not on the small vessel launching a daring escape.

  Was Esmerelda on board? Her heart said yes.

  If Oldwin’s guard caught sight of them, their warships would head them off long before they made it to the kingdom. If their arrows didn’t decide matters first.

  Unless they had something else to distract them.

  Wings spread wide, heart pounding, Ravenna aimed herself at the ramparts.

  The king is dead; the kingdom, in chaos. Several find themselves on the path to save it, but at what personal cost? Continue on with Book 3, The Hidden Kingdom.

  * * *

  Feel like you need to discuss what you just read? Join The Kingdom of the White Sea Official Reader Group on Facebook for book chats, giveaways, and exclusive series news.

  Also by Sarah M. Cradit

  Kingdom of the White Sea Cycle

  The Kingless Crown

  The Broken Realm

  The Hidden Kingdom

  THE SAGA OF CRIMSON & CLOVER

  * * *

  The House of Crimson and Clover Series

  The Storm and the Darkness

  Shattered

  The Illusions of Eventide

  Bound

  Midnight Dynasty

  Asunder

  Empire of Shadows

  Myths of Midwinter

  The Hinterland Veil

  The Secrets Amongst the Cypress

  Within the Garden of Twilight

  House of Dusk, House of Dawn

  * * *

  Midnight Dynasty Series

  A Tempest of Discovery

  A Storm of Revelations

  A Torrent of Deceit

  and more

  * * *

  The Seven Series

  1970

  1972

  1973

  1974

  1975

  1976

  1980

  * * *

  Vampires of the Merovingi Series

  The Island

  and more

  * * *

  Crimson & Clover Lagniappes
(Bonus Stories)

  Lagniappes are standalone stories that can be read in any order. You can find some of these stories sold individually, and others sold in sets.

  * * *

  St. Charles at Dusk: The Story of Oz and Adrienne

  Flourish: The Story of Anne Fontaine

  Surrender: The Story of Oz and Ana

  Shame: The Story of Jonathan St. Andrews

  Fire & Ice: The Story of Remy & Fleur

  Dark Blessing: The Landry Triplets

  Pandora's Box: The Story of Jasper & Pandora

  The Menagerie: Oriana’s Den of Iniquities

  A Band of Heather: The Story of Colleen and Noah

  The Ephemeral: The Story of Autumn & Gabriel

  Banshee: The Story of Giselle Deschanel

  Bayou’s Edge: The Landry Triplets

  For more information, and exciting bonus material, visit www.sarahmcradit.com

  About the Author

  Sarah is the USA Today and International Bestselling Author of contemporary and epic fantasy.

  * * *

  An unabashed geek, Sarah enjoys studying subjects like the Plantagenet and Ptolemaic dynasties, and settling debates on provocative Tolkien topics such as why the Great Eagles are not Gandalf's personal taxi service. Passionate about travel, Sarah has visited over twenty countries collecting sparks of inspiration (though New Orleans is where her heart rests). She's a self-professed expert at crafting original songs to sing to her very patient pets, and a seasoned professional at finding ways to humiliate herself (bonus points if it happens in public). When at home in Pennsylvania, her husband and best friend, James, is very kind about indulging her love of fast German cars and expensive lattes.

  * * *

  www.sarahmcradit.com

 

 

 


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