Bleak and the other rebels descended from their vantage point, slipping through the long grass like shadows. Bleak’s heart was like a rock in her throat and her palms grew clammy as they reached the base of the hill and crouched in the dark, opposite the gate. She followed Sahara’s gaze upwards, in time to see one of Fletch’s arrows shooting through the night air.
They didn’t hesitate. The rebels bolted across to the gate. As planned, it was unlocked, and they passed through quickly and silently, into Freyhill.
The post on the other side of the wall had been vacated, and Daleren and Jaida took up the free positions, expressions sombre.
‘Bleak and I will take the high street,’ Sahara said, signalling to the main road through the city. ‘Geraad and Ky, you take the eastern side. We rendezvous at the square.’
Kyden nodded and gave Jaida a brief hug. ‘See you on the other side.’
The young rebel squeezed him back. ‘Don’t mess up that pretty face of yours.’
‘Geraad —’ Sahara began, taking a step towards him.
He stepped out of reach. ‘I know,’ he said quietly. ‘You too.’
She nodded. Tearing her gaze away from Geraad, Sahara turned to Bleak. ‘Let’s move.’
The pair started off down a narrow alley, towards the high street. Sahara moved with the ease and grace of a true Valian, blending her movements with the shadows of the night. They reached the main road quickly, and were soon able to hear movement from inside the townhouses, even seeing the occasional flicker of candlelight from within. However, there was no one on the streets, as though there was some kind of curfew in place.
A deafening roar sounded and Bleak jumped.
The teerah pit must be close. She hoped that wherever Rion was, he was far from it.
‘Bleak,’ Sahara whispered.
Bleak followed the Valian’s gaze, and a wave of familiarity washed over her. Up ahead was the main entrance to Freyhill Castle, and an elaborate pair of iron gates, leading into the primary gatehouse. Intricate swirls of metal swept across the bars and ended in sharp spears. Bleak gripped Sahara’s arm.
When she had last seen those gates, one had been knocked from its hinges, blood dripping from its spikes.
‘Bleak?’ Sahara was squeezing her shoulder and peering into her face. ‘Bleak,’ she hissed. ‘Let’s go.’
Footsteps sounded behind them, and Sahara’s hand flew to the hilt of her sword.
‘You two.’ A guard came into view. ‘What are you doing? Me and Trenton are on high-street guard tonight.’
Sahara’s fingers curled around the grip of her sword.
Don’t, Bleak said into Sahara’s mind. The guard reeked of alcohol. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. Bleak was all too familiar with that look.
She took her chance.
The new guards were supposed to be posted on the eastern gate. The guard’s thoughts slurred into her mind and she didn’t hesitate.
‘Isn’t this the way to the eastern gate?’ she said, pointing to the iron bars up ahead.
The guard swayed. ‘That’s the main gate, you fucking idiot,’ he scoffed. ‘East gate’s that way.’
‘Shit,’ Bleak said. Then, feeling bold, she stepped forward and gripped the guard’s arm. ‘Keep this between us, hey?’
‘Get off me.’ The guard shoved her back. ‘Where’d they find you? A fucking farm somewhere? Get to your post.’
Bleak backed off. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she muttered.
The guard walked off, and Sahara turned to Bleak, an incredulous expression plastered to her face.
‘What in the realm was that about? Are you trying to get us killed?’
Bleak held out the set of keys she’d pickpocketed. ‘Thought these might come in handy,’ she said.
Sahara shook her head in disbelief. ‘You’re a woman of many talents …’
‘Apparently,’ Bleak said.
Sahara took the keys, and held out the leather strap for Bleak to see.
Carved into it were the words: Long may she reign. A chill passed through Bleak, sending a rush of goosebumps racing across her skin.
They reached the rendezvous point and crouched down under the cover of a locked market stall. They were at the town square. At its heart, elevated on a podium, were flogging posts. Bleak’s skin crawled. She was at the enemy’s front door, the possibility of answers just beyond the walls … She swallowed hard. Geraad and Kyden came into view, and beside her, Sahara’s shoulders sagged with relief.
‘There’s a problem,’ Geraad said, crouching into hiding beside them.
Sahara swore. ‘What is it?’
‘The boat’s been chained up,’ Kyden said.
Bleak’s heart sank. The boat was supposed to get them across the moat undetected, to a servants’ entry at the rear of the castle.
‘We have to call it off,’ Geraad murmured. ‘There are too many variables now. It’s too dangerous.’
‘No,’ Bleak found herself saying. ‘We didn’t come all this way to fail.’
‘We didn’t come all this way to die either,’ Sahara said.
Bleak looked to the gates. ‘The drawbridge is down …’
‘There’s no way we’re just strolling across that and into the castle grounds,’ Geraad snapped.
‘What if …?’
Geraad opened his mouth to snap at her again, but Sahara shot him a warning look.
‘What if what?’ the Valian asked her.
‘What if I could …’ Bleak chewed her lip.
‘What, Bleak? We can’t stay here any longer. If you have an idea, let’s hear it now.’
‘I could enter their minds, use their thoughts against them, to let us in. Like I did with the guard just then.’
Geraad glanced questioningly at Sahara, but she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. ‘You really think you could do that?’
‘I will not risk your life, my son’s life, at the hands of some untrained Ashai,’ Geraad hissed.
‘You already have,’ Bleak replied through gritted teeth. ‘You’re the one who said a person with my talents could prove valuable to the mission. You’re the one who said if I’m with you, I’m with you all the way. Here I am, Geraad. Where the fuck are you?’
Geraad opened his mouth to argue.
‘Shh!’ Sahara stretched out a trembling hand, her finger pointing to a lone figure coming into view beyond the gates.
‘Casimir,’ she breathed.
‘What? How do you know that’s him? Have you ever met him?’
‘It’s him,’ Geraad said quietly. ‘And yes, I have. A long time ago.’
Casimir’s tall, thin frame crouched down beside the flowerbed, fingertips absent-mindedly brushing the petals.
‘We utilise Bleak’s magic,’ Sahara said firmly, not taking her eyes off the Ashai leader.
‘It’s too easy,’ Kyden said. ‘It has to be a trap.’
‘If it’s a trap, we’re already caught,’ Geraad allowed, monitoring Casimir’s movements.
‘We go in pairs across the bridge,’ Sahara said. ‘Bleak and I first.’
The fire Bleak had felt mere seconds ago was snuffed out by fear. Terror clawed her insides as Sahara made her move. They headed to the drawbridge and Bleak tried to focus on mirroring Sahara’s casual gait, but she could hear the Valian’s thoughts, assessing the potential threats ahead, of which there were many. They crossed the bridge, their boots tapping softly on the wood.
At the mouth of the courtyard, just through the gates, Bleak spotted a quartet of guards.
‘The one with the longsword,’ Sahara said under her breath. ‘He’s the captain of the castle foot guards. Target him. The others won’t question him.’
Bleak didn’t wait. She lunged with her mind.
It wasn’t smooth as it had been with Luka, the young Valian she had trained with. It was a hard and fast descent into the captain’s mind. A clumsy and desperate attempt. It was enough. She felt the man internally question their presence, felt his urge to sound the a
larm bubble near the surface of his consciousness. But Bleak used her magic to soothe him, to throw a mental blanket over his instincts. She created the feeling of recognition, of trust, clearing a pathway in his mind for them as though she was dragging a stick through sand.
Bleak turned expectantly to Sahara when they reached the four men. ‘Give them the keys, then,’ she said.
‘Keys? What keys?’ said one of the foot guards.
The captain turned to him. ‘We’ve got orders to check the northern gate,’ he said, his voice impatient. ‘This lot are keeping an eye on the prisoner.’
The younger guard fell silent.
‘Well?’ Bleak said, elbowing Sahara.
Sahara produced the keys Bleak had stolen and held them out. Bleak snatched them and offered them to the captain. As his hand gripped the leather strap, she locked eyes with him.
‘Long may she reign,’ she said.
‘Long may she reign,’ the captain replied, and led his soldiers away.
Sahara exhaled loudly beside Bleak. ‘Gods,’ she muttered. ‘I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified.’
Bleak said a silent prayer of thanks to whatever gods were listening and looked around the courtyard. Knotted trees punctuated the grey grass and cobblestone walkways, and a garden full of blooming red flowers stretched from the keep to the castle entrance. Suddenly, deep, rumbling animal snarls, almost beneath her feet, filled the quiet.
She cursed. The teerah pit was only metres away from them, with no cover over the top. Bleak craned her neck to see in, and had to muffle her gasp of horror with her hand. In the dirt cage below were about fifteen giant beasts, wildly pacing the cramped space, gnashing their teeth and hissing. If she squinted, Bleak could make out the discarded heads of prisoners who had been thrown in. Apparently, the teerahs didn’t eat the heads.
Sahara’s cold fingers clamped so hard around Bleak’s arm, she nearly yelped with the shock.
‘There,’ the Valian said.
Casimir was where they had seen him before. He was unguarded, standing by the wine-coloured blooms.
‘Stay here,’ was all Sahara said, before striding across the courtyard.
Bleak held her breath as Sahara took a wide berth around the panther pit, where, as though they could sense strangers in their midst, the beasts roared, white spittle foaming at their mouths. Bleak breathed out shakily as Sahara reached Casimir, and rested a gentle hand on his arm.
Bleak jumped as she heard a sound to her right, but it was too late. Pain slammed across the back of her head, causing warm blood to trickle down the nape of her neck, and then, there was only black.
Chapter 12
The network of tunnels beneath Havennesse and the East Sea was dark and vast. Henri’s arm ached from holding the torch high, and her eyes were strained from squinting into the black before her. The massive canine, Bear, padded silently beside her, his focus solely on the path ahead, his ears flicking at every drop of water, every stone scuffed. The walls either side of them were covered in glittering crystals of salt, and coarse dirt grated loudly beneath Henri’s boots. She ducked as the ceiling of the tunnel lowered unexpectedly and ignored her squirming stomach, breathing steadily through her nose. The thought of hundreds of gallons of water above her did nothing to alleviate her discomfort. She pressed on. In that respect, Valian training had its perks.
Henri didn’t know how long she’d been walking, but she wasn’t tired. She was eager to meet her kindred, and, if she was honest with herself, eager to see Athene. Although her relationship with her first-in-command was rife with complexities, Henri realised that she sorely missed her friend’s company, and found her mind constantly wandering back to her. She’d been too hard on Athene in the past few months, and longed for the opportunity to explain her actions, her attitude, to make things right between them.
As woman and dog trekked through the damp underground, the high-pitched calls of lisloiks could be heard. Eydis had told her of them; once creatures of the Northern Passage waters, they’d been trapped in the tunnels below the East Sea after the mist had spread south of Qatrola. Their wails were oddly entrancing and Henri felt her legs stray from their path. She made to turn left, but a sharp bark from Bear set her footing right. Each time the eerie sounds tugged at her, Bear nipped at her ankles, and she would thank Rheyah for the dog’s company, and bestow praise upon him. He didn’t seem bothered, just focused, knowing that the sooner this leg of the journey was over, the sooner he would be reunited with his master.
They stopped twice. Henri shared her water with Bear while they sat on the wet ground. She tugged her cloak around her against the cold, still fighting her underlying twist of panic, of feeling trapped. Valia’s open treetops and golden beams of sun seemed further away than ever.
They didn’t stop for more than two hours at a time; moving forward soothed her, as did Bear, it seemed. There was no notion of time without access to daylight, and so she had no idea how long they’d been travelling beneath the sea. The tunnel looked as it had at the beginning: gloomy, damp and never-ending. She tried not to think about the fact that she still had to make the journey back to Wildenhaven.
Weariness gripped Henri’s body and her eyelids grew heavy as they passed more of the same, the salt crystals glimmering beneath the flickering light of the torch. The passage smelled of the sea, only staler, and the further they travelled, the thicker the air became in Henri’s throat. She looked to Bear. The dog was tiring as well, his tongue flapping outside his mouth.
Just as she was about to take a break, he froze, ears pricking. Henri halted alongside him, waiting. His long, loud howl pierced the quiet and echoed down the tunnel. A shiver of goosebumps rushed across Henri’s skin, the cavern falling silent once more. They waited.
A foreign bark sounded in the near distance, and Bear took off, his paws hammering against the wet ground. Henri’s heart leaped. She raced after him, the thrill of the chase pumping new energy through her tired limbs. Eydis’ dog Kadi came bounding into view, and just behind him was Athene. The breath left Henri’s lungs. The two women crashed together in a tight embrace. She smelled the same, Henri realised, like fresh soil and Valian herbs, like home.
‘Henri …’ Athene breathed.
Behind her, the rest of the kindred caught up. Marvel, Tilly and Petra rushed forward.
‘Henri!’ They flung their leather-clad arms about her back, lifting her into the air.
A well of emotion caught in Henri’s throat. She’d missed these women – her kindred, her family.
‘It’s about time,’ she managed.
Marvel laughed and clapped her on the back. ‘Haven’t seen us in months and that’s what you’ve got to say?’
‘There’s plenty to say,’ Henri replied. ‘Though I’d rather say it from the comfort of the Wildenhaven halls, wouldn’t you?’
There was no time for chatter. The kindred, five hundred strong, filled the passage behind Henri’s elites. Familiarity swelled in Henri’s chest, but she wouldn’t show her relief, her gratitude. Not now. Not yet. Now she had to be strong.
Mariette wasn’t there to greet them when Henri and her kindred army arrived at the Valley of Twisted Trees. Instead, the kennel master’s timid apprentice, Taro, stood shivering at the opening of the cavern.
‘Where’s Mariette?’ Henri asked as the youth handed her a thick cloak.
‘She was called away, m’lady.’
‘Where?’ Henri demanded, ignoring the muttered curses behind her as her kindred stepped out into the icy air of Wildenhaven for the first time.
‘I could not say, m’lady.’
‘You don’t know, or you won’t tell me?’
‘M’lady, I mean no disrespect. I don’t know …’ But then Taro pushed back his shoulders and met her stare. ‘Though, if I did know and was ordered by Her Majesty to keep the matter confidential, I would do so,’ he added bravely.
Henri felt a surge of pity and patted him on the shoulder. ‘Good to know,
Taro. Good to know.’
‘Her Majesty has made arrangements in our third tower for your army. Though she did say it may be a little cramped. If they prefer, alternative accommodations can be made in the nearest village.’
‘The tower will be fine for now.’
Bear and Kadi darted ahead, barking and howling into the night, listening for wolves while the rest of the company trudged through the knee-deep snow. She looked at Athene. Something was wrong. Her friend’s usual lingering gaze had been replaced by quick, worried glances, her eyes never quite meeting Henri’s.
Henri turned back to the apprentice. ‘Taro, I will need to make a formal address. Does the third tower have a space for such a purpose?’
‘Yes, m’lady. Queen Eydis selected it with that in mind. She foresaw that you would need such a space. She said to speak with your people and greet her in the morning.’
Henri’s skin crawled at the thought of Eydis seeing her decisions before she made them. Henri had always been intensely private, and her friend’s ability to invade that privacy greatly unnerved her.
The kindred barely spoke as they marched the rest of the journey to Wildenhaven. It was too cold to waste energy on conversations. The opportunity for questions would be upon them soon, and Henri knew she had a lot of explaining ahead of her. She was weary at the thought of it alone.
Finally, they reached the looming towers, the massive structures casting long shadows over the torchlit snow.
‘Gods, I haven’t been here since we were children,’ Athene murmured.
‘Still incredible, isn’t it?’ Henri found herself saying, taking in the well-guarded gatehouse and thick grey stones of each building.
‘It’s no Valia Forest, but I suspect it’ll do.’ Athene gave her a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
Yes, something is definitely not right, Henri thought. They needed to get inside, and get to the bottom of things.
Finally, they entered the hall of the third Wildenhaven tower. Several fires were roaring. The kindred were seated at long wooden tables that stretched down the length of the entire room. The women spoke quietly between themselves, their soft whispers only fuelling the pit of anguish in Henri’s stomach. Food and wine were served and Henri made her way towards the empty seat beside Athene. But she didn’t sit. Instead, she took a deep breath and stepped up onto it, and the hall fell silent. She had never formally addressed her people. The last formal address had been when Sahara had died, and Allehra had made a tribute to the fallen heir and instated Henri as ruler. She searched her kindred’s faces for any signs of doubt. She found none. She saw only loyalty.
Reign of Mist Page 12