Bastien hadn’t actually thought through that far. He’d never meant to just walk up to the main door and knock, but he didn’t want say that out loud either because Daniel would decide that was exactly what he’d intended to do.
That shouldn’t matter. He couldn’t say why it did. He had a suspicion that it all circled around back to Grace. Daniel was her friend. And while he didn’t give a damn if Daniel didn’t like him, or even respected him, he cared what Grace thought, and Grace cared what Daniel thought and…
The Temple. Celeste. That was why they were here.
‘I thought maybe a back door, a servants’ entrance or…’ his voice trailed off as Daniel raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
‘O… kay? Any idea where?’
He didn’t have a clue. Of course he didn’t. But… Daniel Parry worked in this city, had grown up in its underworld and knew its secrets more intimately than anyone else. When you had information like that at hand, you used it.
‘You tell me.’
‘That’s your plan? Lucky I came. This way.’
Bastien wanted to say he would have found another way, but what was the use in that? This was where they were now. He just followed Daniel down the side of the Temple, where a disreputable-looking alleyway led towards the market square. Daniel selected a door painted a bright blue and knocked, three swift knocks, like a signal.
‘Whose house is this?’
‘It’s a… Look, never mind about that. Just shut up and let me talk.’
One look at the woman who opened the door told Bastien exactly what sort of house it was. She was draped in silks, her hair caught up in an elaborate style, and chains of gold hung around her neck. But she didn’t look in any way alluring. She looked, if anything, terrified.
‘Daniel darling,’ she gasped. ‘Thank the goddess you’re here. This is a bad night to be out and about. Come inside. Both of you. Quickly.’
The door snapped shut behind them, the lock turning and bolts driven across.
‘Madam Dean,’ Daniel said in strangely formal tones. ‘We need access to your vaults.’
Madam Dean peered at Bastien and, though the cloak hid him, he wasn’t sure if that would be enough. If she recognised him, she was too well trained to react.
‘Do you know what’s happening, Danny?’
There was a group of young women and a few men huddled in the next room, peering at them from the doorway. They were all beautiful, all scared, and clearly all prostitutes. It wasn’t as if Bastien had never seen one before. Just not so blatantly obvious. And not so filled with fear. The nearest, a Tlachtlyan boy with almond eyes and a luscious mouth, touched Daniel’s shoulder, a soft caress that spoke of an intimacy.
Daniel pulled away. ‘Nothing to worry about. Just… just stay indoors until morning. Don’t let the guards in.’
‘Misha isn’t back. Have you seen him?’
Daniel’s face went pale. He swallowed, his throat working hard.
He’s hiding something, Bastien thought. Trying to protect them or… or perhaps me.
Who was Misha? And what was he to Daniel? More than just an acquaintance. The thought of him outside and possibly in danger clearly rattled the man.
‘I got the message. That’s why I’m here.’ He glanced at Bastien, who didn’t react. What message? What was he talking about? But before he could ask, Daniel went on. ‘The vaults, Rina?’
Madam Dean just nodded carefully and once more they were descending stairs.
Rathlynn was old. It had been built upon its own bones, generation after generation of buildings. The further down it went the more it was interconnected. Bastien wanted to ask why a temple might have a passageway to a brothel but he knew the answer already. The brothers and sisters serving there might take vows of loyalty to the goddess alone, but they were human. And what the eyes of the goddess didn’t see couldn’t harm her.
The vaults were sparse compared to those beneath the inn, but wide. The passageway wound down to a door, old oak, with lines of iron curling across it like vines. Madam Dean produced a key from somewhere in her ample cleavage and fitted it to the lock.
‘Are you sure?’ she whispered to Daniel who just nodded.
‘Just open it and go. It’ll be okay.’
The key turned in the lock and the door burst open. Light flooded in around them, and so did a troop of Royal Guards. They surrounded Bastien, pressed close together, all armed, some carrying torches which spluttered with black choking smoke. He drew back, already letting the magic fill him, the shock of this turn of events barely slowing him. The pool filled him as naturally as breathing and the light within him roared to life.
Daniel’s hand on his throat brought him stumbling forwards. A line like fire etched itself into Bastien’s skin, encircling his neck and pressing down. He reached for the magic, desperate to defend himself, and found nothing.
A sigil. Daniel had caught him with a sigil.
And then he recognised it, because the bloody thing burned on his skin like nothing else ever had. Grace’s sigil, the one she’d bound him with in order to escape to Eastferry. Daniel had taken it. And now it was being used again.
Rage replaced the magic but before he could use the strength it lent him, he was brought to his knees. Guards seized his arms and twisted them behind his back, manacles crushing his wrists together. They didn’t draw back, pressed close in the darkness.
‘Parry? What have you done?’ Bastien gasped.
But Daniel had stepped away, unable to meet his gaze, his face pale, his eyes tormented. ‘Careful with him. I don’t know if it will hold for long.’
‘I can take care of that, Officer Parry,’ said a voice he knew far too well. It put all thoughts of Daniel Parry’s betrayal right out of his mind. A matter of perspective. What Daniel had done was minor. This… Asher stepped from the doorway to the Temple. ‘We have any number of sigils all ready and waiting for him. Hello Bastien. We missed you. Your sister is beside herself with worry.’
‘What is this, Asher? What do you want?’
Asher grinned at him. ‘You, of course, my Lord of Thorns. We have only ever wanted you.’
He grabbed a handful of Bastien’s hair, the same hair that Grace had caressed, jerking it back by the fistful, making him bare his throat. He pulled Grace’s sigil off and tossed it aside. For a moment a wild surge of hope seized Bastien and he drew on his magic again, but Asher was ready for him. A line of sigils appeared in his hands and in seconds they were around Bastien’s neck like a collar, half a dozen of them interlinked, humming with power. The sigils flared even brighter than Grace’s had, and the tiny ball of glass hanging around Asher’s neck on a silver chain burned with an answering light.
In a rush, all the power was sucked from Bastien’s body. Asher inhaled sharply, a gasp of delight. He closed his eyes, ecstasy written on his patrician features.
Bastien slumped forward but Asher grabbed another handful of his hair, dragging his head up again, making him look. ‘Do you like them? Sigils to bind your power and an orb of my own to feed it all to me. Celeste perfected it herself, clever little thing that she is. Instead of a syphon, it’s a direct connection. We found her someone to work with, someone she could encourage. They die so quickly though. Isn’t she a marvel?’ He almost purred the last words and released Bastien, who sagged in his captors’ grip, bewildered.
A syphon and a tether working in tandem. That was what Miranda had done. They’d used his own ideas, and his own sister, against him. And now his own magic.
‘Where’s Misha?’ Daniel interrupted.
Asher glanced at Daniel with a cruel glint in his eye. ‘All in good time. Your boyfriend’s been entertaining the ladies. Such a voice. Such a talent. I bet he even screams on key.’
Daniel’s face went white and Bastien understood. Where Bastien had wanted to save his sister, Daniel had wanted to save his lover. And this was the price.
‘We had a deal,’ Daniel hissed. That wasn’t the voice of a gu
ard. Nor an officer. That was the voice of an Eastferry crime family member. If Asher didn’t recognise the tone, Bastien did.
Kane curled his lip in disdain. ‘And I keep my word. Where’s the warrant?’
‘The what?’
‘The coin the girl was given. Where is it?’
Daniel drew a pair of daggers, his patience at an end. ‘You didn’t mention a coin. You just said bring him. So I did. Now give me—’
Asher just flicked his hands at Daniel. That was all. Just a flick of the wrist, dismissive and contemptuous.
Daniel dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. The daggers clattered from his hands, and he reached for his own throat, clawing at it. Asher watched for a minute, in horrid fascination. Daniel’s eyes bulged, his face purpled, and then he fell like a rag doll.
Asher released him, and examined his nails while Daniel struggled to regain his breath. When his eyes met Bastien’s, he grinned, as if they were co-conspirators. As if they were still friends.
‘You really have no idea of the amount of power within you, Bastien. It’s exhilarating.’
He wanted power? So be it.
Bastien narrowed his eyes.
Asher leaned forward to say more but suddenly the little globe hummed, vibrating far too strongly, the light intensifying. There was too much power, too much magic. Asher stepped back and tore it off before it exploded into dust.
He dropped the chain, disgusted.
Bastien smiled, heaving in breath after breath. ‘Not so clever. When these sigils wear off—’ The throb of pain eating into his flesh, he tried to draw his power into him again, the sigils still fighting him every step of the way. But it was there again, just out of reach.
‘We’ll apply more. And eventually we’ll get it right. I’ll have your magic, Bastien.’
‘I will not cooperate with you.’
‘Not even for Celeste? We can do this to her, you know. We have. She’s harder to control, but it’s worth it.’
Somewhere Bastien found the strength. The mention of Celeste, the thought of her bound and used like this, the arrogance…
One guard dropped to his knees, clawing at his own face and howling. The other held on grimly for a moment and then his neck twisted to one side. He didn’t make a sound until he fell. Bastien rose to his feet, his hands still chained behind him, the sigils blazing like unholy fire around his neck, and advanced on Asher, blocking out the pain.
His friend, his oldest friend, didn’t flinch or back away. He watched him, grinning that terrible grin, all teeth and superiority. Slowly he shook his head.
Lightning rushed along Bastien’s veins, his blood boiling at its touch. He tried to breathe but it felt like inhaling glass shards. Inside his bones shattered and reformed and a broken cry forced its way out of him, more from shock than any ability to voice anything. He didn’t know when he fell, only that the ground was cold and hard and the pain didn’t ebb. But it wasn’t Asher. He knew it didn’t come from Asher.
No one else could inflict such power on him. No one else.
‘You’re taking far too long,’ he heard Celeste’s voice through his pain, different to how he’d heard her through the mirror, clearer now. ‘We’ve been waiting. I don’t like waiting.’
‘Divinity,’ Asher said, a mixture of awe and deliberate care threaded through his voice. ‘I think he’s ready for you now.’
She came on bare, silent feet, delicate as a dancer, the guards parting for her, and she crouched down, peering into his face.
‘Hello, little brother. I’ve been waiting such a long time for this.’ Then she frowned, screwing up her pretty face in consternation. ‘Where’s the warrant?’
‘There’s been a complication. It’s in hand.’
For a moment, she just stared at him. ‘Are you telling me you don’t have it?’ Then she laughed. So brightly, his heart ached. Because this was his sister, the sister he remembered. She was lucid and sweet. She was everything he remembered before it all went wrong. ‘I was very specific. Bastien and the warrant. Aurelie was meant to get it from Marius but oh no. She couldn’t even do that.’
‘Celeste,’ Bastien murmured, trying to reach her. ‘Celeste, what’s going on? What’s happening?’
Her hands twitched against her sides, fingers worrying at the fabric of her gown, pulling at a thread. She shivered suddenly and she turned on Asher as if she would tear out his throat. Her voice became a roar. ‘Where’s the warrant? It won’t work without it.’
For a moment the look on Asher’s face was almost comical. All colour drained away and it was replaced with the knowledge that all the stolen power in the world wouldn’t protect him from her.
‘We’ll get it. I swear. On my life.’ He looked desperate. Terrified.
Celeste froze, and then she smiled again, her mood changing like quicksilver as she heard what she wanted. ‘On. Your. Life. I’ll hold you to that. Where is it? Who has it?’
Bastien looked at Daniel who flinched back from them. He’d picked up Grace’s sigil again, holding it as if it might defend him against them. It wouldn’t. Celeste followed his glance and instantly she was all pretty girl again, childish, the coquette. ‘You?’
‘No,’ Bastien ground out the word before Daniel could find an answer. Not a denial. A warning.
Don’t answer her. Don’t be fooled. Don’t do this.
‘He was meant to bring both.’ Asher’s voice was cruel again, deflecting failure from himself to another as he always did. He was transparent to Bastien now. How had they ever been friends?
Celeste reached out a hand to Daniel, smiling as she did so. At least he had the good sense not to take it.
‘You’re the harper’s lover, aren’t you? He’s so good. Aurelie is quite enamoured but she does love her music. I do hope I haven’t broken him.’
Daniel’s mouth opened in dismay but no words came out.
Bastien tried to struggle upright. ‘Celeste, stop this. Please.’
‘Oh shush,’ she said. ‘I’ll get to you in a minute. I’m talking to… Daniel, isn’t it?’ She pressed her hand to his head and his face went blank, completely blank, eyes staring to nothing, jaw sagging. ‘Go and get that warrant. By whatever means necessary. Understand? You know where it is and I want it. Kill anyone who tries to stop you. Now. Go.’
He moved like a puppet, controlled by strings of magic, staggering up onto uncertain feet, turning without a word and leaving.
‘Now, my little brother,’ said Celeste, more lucid and more terrifying than he had ever seen her. ‘We really need to talk. A long talk. There is so much I have to tell you. There is so much for you to do.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘Grace?’
Something shook her shoulder. But she didn’t have to get up. She wasn’t even on duty yet. There were no alarm bells. And it was still dark. Hours to go until reveille.
‘Grace, please. Listen to me. You’ve got to wake up. Grace!’
‘Five more minutes,’ she mumbled, trying to pull the blankets over her head.
‘Grace!’ Ellyn grabbed her by the shirt and shook her until she thought her teeth would rattle. ‘Wake up. Bastien and Daniel are missing. I don’t know what he did to you, but you have to wake up now. Please.’
‘Here.’ That was Kurt’s voice. Alarm bells were ringing now, not actual bells of course, but if Kurt was here as well… ‘Allie’s a Curer. Let her through.’
A mageborn? No.
That brought Grace up out of the dreams that dragged her back down. No mageborn was touching her again. Not after…
‘Bastien,’ she growled and rolled onto her side. The world spun around and came back into focus.
‘Allie can help you, Duchess. Just—’
‘No, just give me a minute.’
‘Why won’t you just listen, you stupid, stubborn woman?’
If anyone else had said it under any other circumstances… She glared at him and dragged herself up to sit on the edge of the bed. The
carefully folded belt, baldric and the associated weapons swung into view and she remembered Bastien doing it. The fastidious way he’d undressed her, kissed her, used his magic on her…
‘No mageborn is using magic on me again. No mageborn is ever going to touch me again.’
It would be more convincing if she wasn’t remembering every kiss and every caress in detail. It would be more convincing if she wasn’t mageborn herself.
She forced air into her lungs as deeply as she could and then exhaled.
‘Did they go together?’
‘We don’t know.’
‘I bet you don’t know where they went either.’
‘No,’ Ellyn admitted. ‘But Kurt has put the word out.’
‘Well…’ Grace groaned as she levered herself onto her feet. ‘I have an idea. Bastien’s gone back for Celeste.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘His sister.’
Ellyn gasped. ‘Isn’t she a Temple acolyte?’
‘More like a patient.’ Grace shook her head. ‘Doesn’t matter now. We have to find them. Have you sorted passage?’
Kurt stepped back, folded his arms. ‘The ship’s sailing in a couple of hours. It can’t wait for you, Duchess. Or him. I’ve too many people who need to get out of this shithole before Queen Nutjob rounds them all up and drains them, mageborn and their families. There are kids to think of. If they’re found—’
Grace held up a hand to silence him. ‘The boat sails when it’s ready. Don’t wait for us. Ellyn? You need to leave with—’
‘Where am I going without you and Daniel? We’re a team, remember?’
Speaking of whom… where was he? Why had he gone after Bastien? He didn’t even like him.
‘A couple of hours, Grace,’ Kurt warned. ‘That’s all I can do.’
‘I know,’ she replied. ‘I wouldn’t expect anything else.’
And it was true. She knew that. That ship sailing on time was too important. Even more important than a missing king, a lost best friend or a vanished, treacherous lover.
The Vigil bells were sounding by the time they left Eastferry. Grace and Ellyn picked their way through the dark and silent city, keeping to the shadows. She’d never seen the area so subdued, not even at this hour. Eastferry was quiet, but the Temple quarter was dead.
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