Gleam (The Plated Prisoner Series Book 3)

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Gleam (The Plated Prisoner Series Book 3) Page 35

by Raven Kennedy


  Jeo slams the shutters closed while Nile races over to the door and throws the bolt down. “We need to get her Majesty to the cart!”

  Pruinn is beside me in an instant, his ever-present bag slung over his shoulder.

  “There’s no other door out,” Jeo says, dagger in hand and anxiousness stiffening his fingers. “We have no idea how many men might be out there.”

  “How far away is the cart?” Pruinn asks.

  Nile shakes his head. “Not far. Twenty feet at most. We tried to leave the horses beneath the overhang of the roof where the wood is kept.”

  Jeo licks his lips, turning in place as he thinks until his eyes land on the shuttered window behind us. “Okay, one of us goes out the door, the others help the queen out the window. It’s the closest to the cart, and they won’t be expecting it. We’ll cover her from all angles,” he says, nodding his head as if his body is convincing his mind.

  Nile nods grimly. “I’ll go through the door, you two get Her Majesty to the cart.”

  The men pass a look between them, while something heavy and horrible sinks onto my shoulders. “He sent men to kill me,” I breathe. “I can’t believe that arrogant bastard, who only became a king through a marriage to me, would dare try to have me killed!”

  “Malina!” Jeo snaps. “We don’t have time for your indignation. We have one fucking shot at this, alright? Or we’re all dead like Tobyn.”

  He turns back to Pruinn and Nile while they peer out windows, whispering their hurried plans back together.

  “Ready?”

  I blink at Jeo numbly, because no, I am not ready. “We should stay in here.”

  “We stay, we’re dead, Your Majesty. There aren’t enough of us here to defend you. Fleeing is our only chance,” Nile says.

  They don’t wait for me to give the approval. Jeo grasps my hand and squeezes. “Keep your head down and keep running, just like before. Alright?”

  My nod is heavy, my vision tunneling with adrenaline my body doesn’t know what to do with.

  Nile takes up position at the door, while Pruinn and Jeo work together to carefully open the shutters, checking outside as far as they can. “Nothing,” Pruinn confirms. “And the cart is just there.”

  Jeo looks over at the guard. “On your move.”

  This is all happening entirely too fast.

  Nile throws open the latch, making as much noise as he can at the same time that Jeo and Pruinn break through the window. Then Nile is racing through the open door with his sword held high and a threat from his mouth while Jeo jumps out the window.

  The moment Jeo’s on the other side, I’m shoved and pulled simultaneously by the men. I topple out, my saddle’s hands gripping my waist as he yanks me the rest of the way. But the skirts of my dress get snagged on the serrated edges of the window as I’m pulled forcefully out, and the glass cuts right through, making blood rise from the tears in my skin. Right when I let out a hiss of pain and land on my feet outside, a scream rents the air.

  Nile.

  Just like before, the shout echoes and stretches, until it suddenly cuts off in a way that you know life was cut with it.

  With horror and terror pounding in my veins, Jeo takes my hand just as Pruinn jumps out of the window behind me. Then we all race toward the cart, feet slogging through snow that’s up to our knees. The horses are stomping, heads shaking, blowing out frenzied breaths of fearful whinnies. Pruinn sprints past us and jumps into the driver’s seat, grabbing hold of the reins before the animals bolt.

  “Hurry, Malina,” Jeo prompts, nearly dragging me through the snow to the back of the cart. Right as my hands brace against the rough wood and his hands come to help lift me up, something dark moves in my peripheral. I turn my head just in time to see a shadow move against the side of the house, and terror stabs down my spine.

  “Jeo…”

  He whirls around with his dagger in hand, but nothing is there. My eyes dart around, because I know I saw something, but the shadow is gone, and—

  There.

  My eyes fly over to the left as wisps of strange black smoke seem to peel away from the house’s shadows. I watch, frozen in fear, as it dissipates slowly, coalescing into a man with a hood over his face. The man seems to be shrouded in a dark veil, like shade is clinging to him. Even the sword in his hand is obscured, fresh blood dripping from its edges to land like a menacing threat.

  Jeo whips around and shoves me hard. “GO!”

  My body topples forward, hip bumping into the edge of the cart, head smacking into the frozen wood. I clamber the rest of the way in just as the reins crack like a whip from Pruinn’s hand. The cart lurches forward, and I scrabble to find a handhold as Pruinn’s hoarse “Ya!” calls out.

  Jeo sprints after us, just a foot away from the cart, and he manages to grab the back ledge. Yet the man is right on his heels, racing forward. His shadows conform and melt over his body so that he turns almost invisible against his surroundings, perfectly blended in as he distorts both dark and light.

  Jeo nearly trips in the thick snow, and I know within seconds, the speed of the horses will make him lose his chance, and he knows it too. With a determined grunt, he pushes himself forward and manages to grip the edge.

  Yet just as he starts to pull himself up, a sword appears in the air, held aloft by this invisible demon who wields it. I open my mouth to call his name in warning, but it’s already too late.

  The sound it makes as it stabs straight into Jeo’s back and through his chest is like the gasp before a scream.

  My saddle’s wide blue eyes lock onto me. With shock, with fear. With death.

  Jeo’s hands slip away from the back of the cart as blood blotches his coat, and he staggers in place. The cart keeps racing on without him, but his gaze stays stuck to mine, horror etched in both of our expressions.

  Just a second later, the hooded shadow man wrenches his sword from my saddle’s back, making a scream tear from Jeo’s mouth.

  Blood drips, stains, leaches from the hole ripped through his body, the color perfectly matching his hair.

  Jeo’s scream breaks off as his knees land in the snow. I get one more second of his eyes on me, and then he falls face-first in the snow and doesn’t get back up.

  The horses have gained their momentum now, going so fast it nearly sends me skidding off the back, but I hold on, eyes frosting over as I stare and stare at where Jeo lies.

  I know it’s shock, but I have no breath to scream, none to whisper. My tongue is frozen to the roof of my mouth, unable to form his name. All I can do is watch as shadow and light swirl together beside Jeo’s discarded body, hiding the man responsible. Magic clings and splits in deathly calm wisps that not even the punishing wind seems to touch.

  Tobyn and Nile lie unmoving in front of the safe house like a macabre garden planted by Death. Planted there where their blood has taken root, where the ground has soaked in their life and sprouted their end.

  Pruinn yells again at the horses to hurry, and the assassin’s power dissolves in the air. I suck in a breath as he stands there like Menace made flesh. Not a force of soldiers sent to kill me, not a band of cutthroats. Just a single deadly man with evil power curling around him.

  The man pulls back his hood slowly, and then I see his dark eyes watching me from a patchwork face of two-toned skin. As if that too is playing with light and shadow.

  Our eyes lock, and I’m unable to tear my gaze away, unable to do anything except stare as bile battles with my throat. He looks at me with a dangerous promise, but I look at him right back.

  You, we both seem to say.

  You.

  Then, the cart cuts a sharp corner against a rocky hill of snow, and my view of him is gone, the sound of the horses’ pounding hooves somehow sounding like Jeo’s knees as they slammed into the ground.

  Far off, I hear the toll of the castle’s bell echo through the mountains, a warning for the storm that’s beginning its furor.
It will rage with ice and wind, and come morning, Jeo’s body will be nothing but a lump of snow, hidden by the sky and stolen by the ground. Come morning, Highbell will be out of my grasp again and under the control of the man who used me to get it in the first place, while I’m forced to flee from the shadow he sent to eradicate me.

  Fury like I’ve never known before hardens like jagged waves of a sea gone glacial, stuck in a freeze that it has no way of thawing. When the blizzard hits, I don’t even notice it. I’m far too cold on the inside to feel it.

  Chapter 34

  AUREN

  I sleep like the dead, so deep that it’s like clawing out from six feet underground to pull myself into consciousness. But I do it, because my subconscious is warning me that something is...off.

  Peeling my blurred eyes open, I jerk upright, trying to bat away the last dregs of slumber, my senses prickling.

  When I catch movement in my dim bedroom, I experience a moment of panic before my eyes land on the intruder.

  “Lu?” My voice is croaky and cracked, but I stare at the Wrath incredulously. She’s sitting in front of the fire with her feet propped up, a book in one hand and a wine glass in the other.

  She casts me a look. “Took you long enough. The sun went down an hour ago. You were snoring.”

  Embarrassment makes me grumble indignantly, “I was not.”

  I probably was.

  Gaze flicking over to the balcony and windows, I see that Lu was right, I slept right through the entire day. Not only did I get a bath in before dawn, but I passed out just as the sun was cresting, and I’ve been sleeping ever since. Slade’s attentions wore me out in the best way.

  Rubbing my face, I shove the covers back and stand up, stretching my arms over my head, feeling little twinges of soreness all over. Although, I think those have more to do with my nighttime activities than my exercises, and I have to keep a blush from my face as the swarm of memories crop up.

  “How did you get in here?” I ask as I wander over to Lu, noting that not only is she drinking my wine, but she’s also helped herself to my tray of food that the servants sent. She must’ve built up my fire though, because it’s blazing warm and bright.

  I flop into the chair across from her and look over the remnants of food on the tray. Looks like Lu helped herself to the cuts of meat and whatever used to be in the bowl. All that’s left is one chocolate scone, some gritty fruit, and half of a sandwich with a cinnamon crust that has a bite taken out of it.

  I raise my brow at her. “Enjoy my food?”

  She shrugs. “I’ve had worse. But why this kingdom thinks it’s a good idea to slop sugar on everything, I’ll never know. In the city, I ordered the beef stew, and it was smothered in syrup.”

  My nose wrinkles as I take a bite of scone and help myself to some water. “How did you get in here?”

  “Easily. Came right in through the balcony.”

  A frown pulls my brows together. “That door was locked.”

  “Was it?” she hums. “Well, then you need better guards. No one even patrols below the grounds over here, and the ones in the hall never hear a thing.”

  When she says better guards, Digby’s face suddenly flashes in my mind. Just like that, the sugary breakfast goes sour in my mouth. I manage to swallow the bite down, but it feels like guilt settles in my stomach instead.

  “What’s that look for?”

  “Nothing. Just...I had a good guard,” I say, fidgeting with one of my ribbons in my lap as I think of Digby and Sail both. “Two great ones, actually.”

  “Had?”

  “It’s my fault,” I answer, unable to go into any more detail. It’s my fault Sail was stabbed by the captain of the Red Raids. My fault that Digby is being held by Midas and dangled over my head.

  I feel suddenly awkward, because I didn’t expect this unrestrained sadness to cut my knees right out from under me like this, for me to suddenly stumble on grief. Especially not in front of Lu.

  I need to talk to Slade about Digby as soon as possible—about Rissa too. I should’ve done it last night, but...I was preoccupied. I just wanted a moment for myself. I didn’t want to let reality flood in and taint our time together.

  Yet that was selfish of me, to indulge and shut away all my problems. Guilt claws down my back now, because Digby might be wasting away in a dungeon somewhere for all I know, while I’m up here indulging in Slade’s company and complaining about how sweet the food is. What kind of horrible person does that?

  Cutting through the thick silence, Lu says, “I know how it feels when bad shit happens and it’s your fault,” she says matter-of-factly. I appreciate her no-nonsense tone. I’m grateful that she doesn’t try to tell me it wasn’t my fault, to absolve me from my guilt. “When Rip put me in charge of the right flank, I was cocky as hell about it. But then we had our first battle, and I lost a lot of good men and women.”

  I glance up at her, watching her eyes cast into the flames of the fire, her dark skin aglow with its warmth.

  “Every life lost...it was on me, you know? I was responsible for commanding them, and every direction caused some to live and others to die.”

  She lifts a hand to scrub over the shapes of daggers cut into her hair, and I suddenly wonder if there’s a significance for those symbolic blades.

  “When you feel responsible for death...that stays with you. It sticks to the soles of your feet every time you take a step.”

  I nod slowly in understanding, and Lu lets out a breath, face stoic as she sits up straighter. “But that’s the curse of the survivors. We have to live with our dead.”

  When I think about all the people who have died because of me, my shoulders weigh down. “Living with the dead is harder than living with the living.”

  Her gaze jumps to mine, turning mischievous. “Unless that living happens to be the golden king prick.”

  I snort and shake my head. “You have no idea.”

  With a laugh, she sets down the wine glass and points at it. “Our wine barrel is better than this stuff.”

  “I agree.” Abandoning the scone, I set it down and get to my feet. “So, you’re really going to be able to sneak me out of here?”

  Lu gives me a look. “Don’t insult me, Gildy.”

  I hold up my hands placatingly. “Alright, alright. Let me just get dressed.”

  It just takes me a few minutes, and when I come out of my dressing room, I’m in a new gown and my hair is no longer a rat’s nest. I also may have taken a little bit of extra time on my appearance for a certain king, so I chose my dress with care and only snapped two of the boning inlays in the corset. The things you do for the males you sleep with.

  “Okay, I’m ready,” I say, coming back out as I pull on my coat.

  Lu springs up fluidly from the chair. “Finally.” She walks over, holding out the book she had this whole time.

  When I look down and see what it is, my eyes go wide. “How did you get that?”

  “It was just sitting out.”

  I pin her with a look. “It was stuffed into one of the gowns in my dressing room.”

  Lu shrugs and slips into her thick black coat. “You need better hiding spots.”

  Shaking my head, I take the fae book and put it into the inside pocket of my coat. Lu leads the way out of the balcony, and before I even close the door behind us, she’s leaping up onto the railing.

  “Lu—”

  Without hesitation, she bends her knees and then goes flipping right off of it.

  I gasp and rush over, but Lu’s perfectly maneuvered herself and somehow managed to grab onto the railing of the next balcony over. In some crazy acrobatic feats, and making it look much easier than it actually is, she kicks off and spins her body and then lands in a perfect crouch onto the snowy ground below.

  I just gape down at her in the dark. “How the hell did you do that?” I hiss.

  She smirks. “Easily.”

  With a huff, I
wrap all of my ribbons around the railing before climbing up onto it. Gripping half of them, I have my ribbons slowly lower me down as far as they’ll go. The other half stretches to the next balcony, and I swing myself over, and then I repeat the process again.

  When I finally land on the ground, my arms are shaking and I’m breathing hard.

  “Took you long enough,” Lu admonishes. “But I’ll admit, that was a bit better than the first effort I witnessed.”

  I glower at her. “We can’t all be flip masters who just go careening off three-story-high balconies.”

  With a grin, she starts to walk, and I follow behind her, noting that the dogs are put away in the kennel house for the night, the pen empty and quiet. “Your arm strength is atrocious. You need to come back and get training with us again.”

  The very few training sessions I had with the Wrath were the most challenging and rigorous thing I’d ever done, but it also made me feel good mentally—a way to rid myself of my own vulnerabilities and weaknesses.

  “I’d like that,” I admit.

  Lu seems pleased, and she sends me an enigmatic look. “I’m glad you came to your senses, Gildy.”

  I don’t think she’s talking about the training.

  I smile. “Me too.”

  “You seem to be controlling your ribbons with greater skill,” she notes, and I can’t help but puff up a little at her compliment.

  “I’ve been trying to practice with them when I can.”

  “Good,” she says with a sharp nod of her head. “Now I need you to shut up, okay?”

  Taken aback, I mutter, “Rude.”

  I follow her past the row of greenhouses until we reach the corner of the castle walls. The sky is growing darker with every passing minute, gated shadows enclosing the land into night. She stops and looks around it, holding her hand up for me to wait, and then after a moment, waves me forward again.

  I look around nervously as we creep past the stables, and then once again, Lu stops me just at the corner of it, but this time we stay there for a few minutes, and I notice Lu checking a brass pocket watch clipped to her belt.

 

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