by Erin Hayes
He’d made it. He was on the large window ledge. His stiff muscles screamed from the pain, but he worked through it. He needed to get the window open now, and he had just the tool for the job.
Alec pulled the sword from its sheath and pushed it against the seam of the window until it cracked open. At least now he knew the Regent hadn’t removed the magic from the sword—that alone wouldn’t have been enough to open the window otherwise.
With the locking mechanism popped, Alec re-sheathed his sword and hooked his fingers under the window sash. With a light tug up, the window opened the rest of the way.
But once he climbed in, he stood face to face with Regent Dvorak.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Waiting for Alec was making Adira anxious. He said he would come for her. When would that be? And what difference would it make? Miss Balek was already dead. And if she tried anything, more of her friends would soon follow. Even if she was willing to sacrifice their lives, running from the Regent would only put the rest of the Sector in danger as well. This was the role she was meant to play.
She wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve and took a slow, steadying breath, trying to work through her sobs and hiccups and sniffles. She needed to find the rest of the witches. Only the men had been out there with the Ravagers, which likely meant the women and girls were somewhere in the castle. Dvorak’s “back up” plan. Truth was, Adira was still expendable. If she failed, one of the others would be next.
She couldn’t fail.
Adira strode to the double doors and yanked them wide open. As she stepped into the hall, the guards crossed their spears, stopping her from continuing forward.
“Excuse me. I would like to visit the prisoners.”
One of the guards laughed.
Adira posted her fists at her hips. “That’s funny?”
He stopped laughing. “The Regent ordered you to stay here.”
“Then get him and tell him I would like to see my friends.”
The other guard shook his head. “He’s busy.”
“Busy? In the middle of the night?”
“He takes treason quite seriously,” he said, leveling his gaze at Adira. “Now go back inside. He’ll see you in the morning.”
“And if I don’t listen?”
“Then we’ll be forced to lock you in a cell where you have no choice but to listen.”
“At least you two aren’t very bright,” she said, then she stepped back into the room and shut and locked the door behind her, muttering under her breath. “Idiots.”
Did they really just tell her that if she tried to go down to the prison to see her friends, that they would stop her by locking her away as well? Well, there was always that. But Adira would save that for plan B. It would be far more ideal if she could get to them undetected, to speak to them without an audience.
She glanced around the room, assessing her options. The window would never work. She was too high up. With the cuff on, she couldn’t use magic. She’d already tried to use her sundial charm to break the metal clasp, but it was no use. It not only blocked her own magic, but it blocked her ability to use any magical item. She would need someone else to do it.
As she circled the room, she figured it was probably for the best. She needed to keep that cuff on, even if for no other reason than to keep the Regent off her back. Adira ran her fingernails along the walls, pursing her lips. Dvorak was certainly the type to have some sort of hidden passage, but there was none here.
Adira paused near the laundry chute and sighed. Sure, she would fit. But squeezing down an old shoot that led to who knows where was not her idea of a good time.
But this stopped being about what Adira wanted a long time ago.
She pulled open the chute door, then tilted her head as she assessed the inside. Instead of a plain chute, she found two pieces of rope hanging inside. A dumbwaiter. That almost seemed too good to be true.
Adira tugged one side of the rope until the car appeared. She took a deep breath. Well, this was it. She held the rope steady as she climbed in, wincing as the rope-pulley system creaked beneath her weight. This was not what these things were designed for, and this one seemed older than dirt.
Would it even hold her weight?
Only one way to find out.
With both her hands gripped around the rope, she slowly began lowering the car. She bit the inside of her cheek as the room disappeared. Darkness swallowed her. As the car rocked, she pulled her feet closer to her body, her knees bent up, to avoid her toes pinching inside the space in front of her where the ropes dangled. Her knuckles scraped along the wall as she shimmied the car lower.
Although she tried to move quietly, the old dumbwaiter groaned with every move. Her palms began to sweat, and her hands gripped tighter to prevent from slipping. In the dark, there was no way to see how much farther she had to go. Only a sliver of light from above marked how far she had come.
Smoke started to filter in from beneath her in wisps and swirls, and unintelligible whispers bounced all around her.
Something didn’t feel right.
When the outline of a face appeared in the dumbwaiter with her, Adira startled, and the rope slipped against her palms. She clenched the rope with gasp, and the car jerked to a stop. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a few slow breaths.
This isn’t real.
The Regent must have cast some spell on the dumbwaiter to scare people away from using it. That was the kind of person he was, too. He could have just had it sealed off, but instead, he thought to terrify anyone who would use it as she was. She probably wasn’t the first person to try to use for means of escape.
Someone would surely be waiting for her at the bottom. She would deal with that when she got there, though.
She kept her eyes closed for the rest of the descent, but nothing could block out the whispers or the feel of smoke in her lungs that was somehow really there even though it wasn’t.
Once she reached the bottom, she pushed open the door, bracing herself to face the Regent.
But he wasn’t there.
And for some reason, that concerned Adira even more. What could he possibly be so busy with to miss this? Surely he had been looking forward to catching her in this very act.
Cautiously, she climbed out and assessed her surroundings. A large counter in the center of the room. An oven. A fireplace.
The kitchen.
She swallowed and tip-toed forward. The whole of the downstairs was eerily quiet. Where were all the guards?
As she scanned the room and peered into the hallways beyond, she spotted an old wooden door she’d seen guards going in and out of during dinner the other evening. She padded over and carefully turned the knob, then eased open the door to reveal a set a staircase leading into the ground.
That had to be it. The prison. Down there.
There would definitely be guards at the bottom of this descent. Adira spun back toward the kitchen, soaking everything in. On the far wall was a hook with aprons and hair nets. She hurried over, quickly dressed, and grabbed a bread basket from the center table. Then she started down the stairs, her heart rapid-firing in her chest.
A guard at the bottom stepped into her path, puffing out his chest. “What are you down here for?” Her mouth fell open, but before she could continue, he said, “Dinner was hours ago. You can’t just bring food whenever you feel like it.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I lost track of time, and I know the Regent will be furious if I don’t make sure the girls are fed.” Please let the girls be down here. “They need to keep up their strength.”
The guard stared down his nose at her, frowning. “Very well.” He stepped aside. “Next time, you better not be late.”
“Of course,” she said under her breath, quickly squeezing past the guard.
Odd that the extent of her luck seemed to be that the guards worked in shifts, so this one had no way of knowing that dinner had likely already been brought.
She
tried to walk with purpose down the long damp hall even though she had no idea where she was doing. There were cells on either side of her, but none of them held her friends. When she reached the end of the hall, it spilt in opposite directions.
Great.
Stealing a glance over her shoulder, she confirmed the guard was not watching her, then peered down each path.
Someone said, “Pssst,” from down the left, so she turned that way, squinting into the darkness.
“Where are you?” she whispered.
“Here.”
Adira targeted the source of the voice and hurried over to the cell. Anastazie was inside, but no one else. “Where is everyone?”
“Is that for me?” Anastazie asked, motioning to the bread.
“Sure.” Adira slipped it through the bars, then held the basket at her side as she pressed her face against the bars. “Anastazia, where is everyone?”
The little girl shrugged. “You escaped,” she said. “Can you get me out of here?”
“I can’t. I—” Adira bit her lip. “Anastazie, Miss Balek is dead. If I’m caught doing anything else, a lot of people are going to die. But I am going to help you.”
The little girl’s eyes were sunken in, wide, and teary. “Help me then.”
“I don’t have much time.” In the distance, feet shuffled closer. “I just wanted you to know I’m here. And I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. But for now, I need you to stay here and don’t try to leave, okay? I can’t lose you.”
Anastazie reached her arms through the bars and hugged Adira. “I’m scared.”
“I know,” Adira whispered, hugging her back and petting her hand over the little girl’s hair. “Me, too.”
The distant footsteps clomped closer. “Aye! What’s going on down there?”
“Nothing,” Adira called, her voice breaking. “I just…I dropped something. I’ll be right there.”
She pulled back and slipped her hands to Anastazie’s, giving a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to do it,” she said evenly. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep you all safe. No one else will die because of me.”
Then she let go of Anastazie’s small hands, and although it killed her to do abandon the girl like this, she ripped herself away and fled back the way she came, leaving a piece of her behind, because in the end, Anastazie was less trapped in that cell than she would be if she had to take Adira’s place.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Alec’s grip on his sword tightened, but he didn’t make a move. What would be the point? This wasn’t some Ravager or guard. It was the Regent.
Dvorak glared, and his lip twitched. His gaze darkened, but instead of his body going rigid with anger, his shoulders slumped.
“You, Alec?” As he shook his head, Alec realized his expression wasn’t of anger, but of hurt. “I didn’t want to believe it could be you. After all I’ve done for you.”
Alec stepped forward, narrowing his eyes. “All you’ve done for me?”
The Regent sighed, and with a wave of his hand, the sword was pulled from Alec’s grasp. Dvorak leaned it against the corner of the room, beside the door. “I raised you like my own. I thought we were family. I should have known better.”
“You filled my head with lies from the time I was a child.” Alec grabbed a book from the shelf—didn’t matter which one—and shook it at the Regent. “All the things I’ve done, the people I’ve hurt…because of you!” He sneered at Dvorak. “Some father.”
Dvorak snapped his fingers, and two guards appeared behind him. “Take him.”
The guards grabbed Alec by his arms, but when they reached the door, the Regent spoke again, and they froze.
“You know, Alec, everything you have done has been your choice. I did not make you who you are. I chose you because of who you already were. I didn’t make you sacrifice your sister. I didn’t make you sacrifice your family or your land. All I did was see the great in you, the honor you had for your people as a whole. And somehow—” It sounded as though the Regent’s voice cut out. “Somehow, that girl ruined you. Get him out of my sight.”
The guards jolted Alec forward again. He didn’t bother to fight. Fighting against the Regent was useless. A near instant death wish to even try. To overcome a man like Dvorak, you needed to outsmart him, not out-strength him. Alec had escaped once before, and he would do it again. Meanwhile, he needed to come up with a plan.
As the guards led him downstairs to the prisoner cells, he saw a figure in the shadows near the kitchen. Even shrouded by darkness, the lines of her face were unmistakable. He’d nibbled on that jaw. Kissed that nose. Whispered in those ears.
Adira.
But how? There was no way the Regent had let her down here. The urge to yell to her overwhelmed him. He wanted to tell her to run, to hide, that nothing was as it seemed, that she didn’t have to do this.
That would only get her caught. He needed to keep his cool.
As her shadow silently shifted away, he trained his gaze forward to avoid drawing attention to her. The guards led him into the dark damp depths of the castle, down the long corridor, and locked him in a cell.
The shorter of the guards spit at him. “Traitor.”
Alec waited until they were gone before he started assessing his surroundings. Immediately, he recognized the person in the cell beside his. Anastazie.
He wrapped his hands around the bars separating them and whispered through the space between. “Hey.”
She peered up at him, then scowled. “At least someone got what they deserve.”
He shook his head. “It’s not like that. I’m trying to help Adira.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” The little girl crossed her arms and spun to face the other direction.
“Miss Balek’s dead,” Alec said, more to get her attention, even if it was a little crude.
The little girl sobbed into her hands. “I know.” She turned to him, wiping her sleeves against her cheeks. “Adira told me.”
He straightened, leaning harder into the metal rails. “How? When?”
“She was down here just before you came.”
“They let her down here? Why?”
Anastazie eyed him warily. “I don’t think we should talk anymore.”
“Anastazie, please. There’s a lot you don’t know, and if I don’t get out of here, Adira and all the rest of you will meet the same fate as Miss Balek.”
The little girl sighed. “She pretended to be a maid bringing down food. That’s all I’m telling you until you tell me what’s going on.”
Alec let his arms hang through the slats between the bars and rested his forehead against the cool metal. “Anastazie…”
“Tell me,” she demanded.
“Come here then.”
The little girl scooted over and leaned her back against the bars, and Alec slid down to the ground to mirror her. Then he revealed everything he had learned, and how he had wanted to warn Adira before the Regent got to her first.
“Too late,” Anastazie mumbled.
“It’s not too late yet,” Alec said.
“Well, you’re not going to get out of here.” She slid her legs out straight in front of her small body. “They’ve blocked our magic. I can’t help you.”
Alec shook his head, his fingers playing over the edges of the sundial that Adira had given him. “I’m not worried about that. I can get out. I can get us all out. It needs to wait until the right time, though. If I go now, they’ll only bring me back, and next time, there won’t be an escape.”
Anastazie spun toward him, and he looked over his shoulder at her. Her eyes were wide and rimmed with tears. “Please don’t make me wait, Alec. I need to get out of here now. I’m going to die here. Please.”
He placed his hand on hers. “Be strong, Anastazie. Trust me. I have a plan.”
A cackle sounded from down the hall, followed by the clop, clop, clop of dress shoes against concrete. “A plan?” Dvorak’s voice mocked. “Oh, do
tell. And don’t leave out the part where you fight off hordes of Ravagers to return from the outlands.”
He came to a standstill in front of Alec’s cell, tapping his finger against his chin. “You know, I had to ask myself: Was I being too easy on you because I saw you like a son? After all, we always banish our traitors. I thought, maybe if I let you live to see her die, it would break whatever spell she has on you. Then I wouldn’t have to put an end to your life.”
Dvorak crouched so he was eye level with Alec. “But see, then I remembered the way you ruthlessly sacrificed your sister, and I was inspired. A leader makes no exceptions, and I intend to prove that.”
He straightened, then dusted off his lapels. “Alec Kladivo,” he said evenly, “I hereby sentence you to exile.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Adira was staring out the window in her sleeping quarters, admiring perhaps the last sunrise she would ever see, when Nika arrived. Adira spun around, leaning against the windowsill with pursed lips while she watched the woman shuffle into the room. A white gown draped over her forearm as she bustled over to the bed.
She hung the dress on one of the rails of the canopy frame and turned toward Adira with a clap of her hands and slight bow. “Good morning, my Queen.”
“I’m not your queen,” Adira corrected.
“Not yet, but you will be by the time our day is through. Now come get dressed.”
Adira eyed the dress. That wasn’t the gown the Doomed Queens usually wore to fight the Ravagers. That was the wedding gown.
“You brought the wrong dress,” Adira said, waving her hand toward the wretched thing with its high neck and long lacy arms. “I need the fighting gown.”
“Oh,” Nika said, pausing, her fingers twisting together in front of her stomach. “I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”