by Anya Allyn
I hurried down the steps, sending myself willingly into that cursed, evil space. The dead and coppery smell sucked into my nostrils and down into my lungs.
As I stepped onto the broad stonework, I could almost sense the footsteps that had crossed this floor before me. Shaking, terrified prisoners of all ages being sent to Balthazar’s torture chambers. And I could sense Balthazar himself—his horror had seeped into every stone of the floor and walls.
I turned sharply in every direction. He was here. Balthazar. Dread and fear were icy fingers brushing my spine. The air itself breathed down on top of me.
A low sound—a voice— hissed through the narrow walls of the passage ahead.
Cassandra.
He was calling me, summoning me.
My breath turned to stone in my throat as he stepped out, a smile curling into his cruel mouth. His skin had grayed and mottled. The veneer of a handsome young man was already in decay.
His cloak fluttered from his shoulders. “Before this hour is through, thou wilt knowest thy place, Cassandra. Thou wilt know pain that wilt take thee beyond insanity. Thee wilt beg and scream for my mercy.” His eyes hardened. “But there wilt be no mercy.”
A dark figure raced down the stairs behind me. Ethan jumped from the last ten steps, his face holding a sheen of sweat. He leapt from the last few steps and ran to me. “I found you! I didn’t know where you—”
Balthazar had vanished.
“Ethan,” I breathed. “Go back. Go back!”
Balthazar appeared directly behind Ethan, his expression ugly. “This unworthy beggar hath your affections, Cassandra?”
Ethan startled, but he didn’t turn around and give Balthazar satisfaction. He kept his eyes on me. “She has mine,” he stated fiercely, “forever and ever.”
Ethan held my arms. “Let’s get out of here!” But his eyes told a different story. His eyes told a story of a battle that was already lost. We were no match for Balthazar. We couldn’t fight him, we couldn’t outrun him.
A flash of silver arced through the air as Balthazar drew his sword. With a shout, he lifted the sword and plunged it downward.
“No!” I screamed.
Balthazar’s cloak swooped across my face like the wings of a bird of prey.
Gasping, I looked around for Ethan. He was gone. All I could see was Balthazar’s brutal face before me, mocking me.
A voice whispered in my ear. “Come on, Cassie!”
I wheeled around. Ethan’s dark eyes stared into mine and he nodded at me urgently. “We’ll find another way to the cave.”
Relief flooded me at the sight of his face, blood pumping back into my limbs.
Balthazar took a step back, as though he was going to let us leave. I didn’t understand, but I didn’t question it. This was not a time for questions.
We raced together up the stairs. Ethan stopped at the top landing. “Go! And don’t stop. Keep your mind steel, Cassie. Keep it steel.”
I stared at him, uncomprehending. “Not without you!”
His expression saddened. “I don’t know how... to stay.”
What was he talking about? “Run!” I shrieked.
“Cassie, there’s something I never told you. I love you. And I never spoke those words because I love you more than there are words for....”
Why? Why was he stopping to tell me this now?
Tugging at his hand, I screamed at him to come with me. But my hand couldn’t seem to find his.
I eyed his face in confusion, searching it for clues. All light left his amber eyes, like sun leaving the day.
Something was wrong. Insanely wrong.
My gaze crept past Ethan, back to Balthazar and the dungeon below. Satisfaction glinted in Balthazar’s eyes. A figure lay crumpled on the floor next to him.
Ethan.
Dazed, I turned sharply back to the Ethan who stood beside me. He slowly faded, until he was no longer there. Until I stood here alone.
A scream fled my lungs. Racing back down the stairs, time wound down to a single point. I moved as through thick, congealed air. I fell to Ethan’s side. Bright blood streamed where Balthazar’s sword had entered through his back and into his chest. His eyes were already empty.
I’d run up the stairs with his spirit. With his spirit....
I became stone and ice and blind fury.
Rushing at Balthazar, I cared about nothing but revenge.
“Thee art foolish.” He sent me reeling along the floor.
Ropes snaked down from the ceiling, catching tight around my wrists and ankles, tying me to them. I struggled as the ropes pulled me up. I was taken up higher and higher—until I was strung twenty feet or more above the dungeon floor.
Balthazar eyed me coldly. “I wilt make thee dance like a beautiful marionette—until thou is torn limb from limb, until thy bones are wrenched from their joints. Then Voulo will put you back together, piece by tiny piece, and thee wilt forever be mine.”
My heart clenching into a ball of iron, I screamed my rage at him. Screamed until I barely had a voice.
Spent, I gazed down on Ethan. A single tear tracked wetly down my face. “I am already dead. You cannot take any more from me....”
Had I given Ethan the crystal eye as he wanted, he could have carried it in the back compartment of his jacket, like me. Balthazar’s sword would not have pierced him. But I had been intent on carrying it. Ethan had always risked everything to find me and save me. I’d always had my focus on the book and the serpent empress. Always.
Guilt plagued me.
The families of the castle streamed down the stairway like a flood.
Zach’s father stopped short and bowed when he saw Balthazar. “Forgive us, Monseigneur. We heard a commotion down here....”
Zach’s face set into an anguished mask as he stared from me to Ethan’s lifeless body.
“It is good thou hath all come. Thou wilt witness the might of the creator of the chateau.” Balthazar brushed his hand through the air in a casual gesture. The ropes moved in every direction. Pain like razors and knives ate into my muscles and joints.
Viola’s hand crept across her quaking mouth, her eyes wide and horrified. Audette pursed her mouth and looked on with dead eyes.
Henry stepped out in front, making a curt bow. “Monseigneur Balthazar, is this something we need to pursue at this moment? Could you not simply lock your wilful wife away?” His gaze flicked over me in contained revulsion. “Monseigneur, we have pressing matters at hand. Tobias Batiste has returned, and he has the knowledge of the second book. This is what we’ve sought for so long, and it has come to us. With the book now destroyed, Tobias is our last hope. We could not hope for a more advantageous turn of events.”
Balthazar’s eyes alighted on Henry. “I wilt deal with the traitorous Tobias in due time. At this moment, I hath need of disciplining my bride—a discipline she wilt not survive.”
Balthazar gestured toward me again. The ropes burned at my ankles and wrists, tearing at me. Pain sliced deep into my body as the ropes pulled tight.
A high, short laugh echoed in the air. Clarkson clapped a hand over his mouth, looking on with fascinated horror. Sienna nestled her head into his chest, a secretive smile pressing into her lips.
Dr. Verena stood with her thin arms crossed and her head tilted. She didn’t cringe nor enjoy the show like most of the others. Instead she peered into my face, coolly observing and analyzing my every expression. Beside her, Beaumont Batiste toyed in excitement with the studded collar around his neck, his attention caught by the ropes.
Zach’s mother linked her arm with her husband’s, as though she were being forced to look at something distasteful and needed support. She tried to do the same with Zach, but he flung her arm away.
I almost lost consciousness just as Balthazar flicked his fingers and released the tension on the ropes.
An old man made his way from outside the dungeon to the top landing of the stone staircase, his frail arms in chains—flanked by Emer
son and Parker. A young girl followed him.
It was Tobias and Jessamine again. How had they captured him? I knew from his letter how he felt about his ancestral home.
“What did you bring him down here for?” Mr. Batiste glared at his eldest son.
Emerson swallowed nervously. “He said he had important information for the Monseigneur. I thought it might be something about the book’s whereabouts.” He glanced at Balthazar as though he hoped his actions would find favor with him.
But Balthazar scowled. “I doth not wish to be disturbed again when I have important matters at hand.” He turned back to me.
“Watch her!” Audette pointed at Jessamine. “She’s small but don’t underestimate her.”
Balthazar smiled icily. “Here, her spirit is bound. She canst harm but a flea that crawls in a pig pen.”
Tobias hit the end of his walking stick on the floor. “Let the girl down.”
“Thou art a fool yet, Tobias Batiste,” snarled Balthazar. “Thou darest issue me a command?”
Tobias bent his head, shaking it slowly. “I am an old man at the end of his life. I have done much wrong. It is not for us humans to flit between worlds—at least not when it is for our own gain.”
I stared at Tobias. He was human, not a ghost. Where could he have been all this time?
“Prithee doth not give me thine right and thine wrong, traitor.” Balthazar paced the floor. “History is written by the strong. By the mighty. I write my own history. I forge my own world, upon the steel blade of my sword.” Slowly, he wiped the blood from his sword onto his shirt.
Ethan’s blood.
Ethan’s life.
“We will take our leave now, Monseigneur,” said Mr. Batiste. “We will keep Tobias secure until you are finished here.”
“None of thee wilt leave.” Balthazar raised his voice. “Thou wilt observe every moment. When I hath finished with the girl, I wilt deal out a torture on Tobias of the like that hath never been dealt on human flesh. And he wilt write the words of the Speculum Nemus in his own blood.”
“I do not fear your torture.” Tobias fixed his gaze on Balthazar. “But as the last living testament of the words of the books of the Speculum Nemus, I must close the curtain. This is the message I bring to you.”
Stepping to the edge of the stairway, he held his chained arms in tight to his body. Closing his eyes, he let himself fall backward.
Balthazar’s head snapped up, and he threw out his arms. But he was too late to catch Tobias with any of his spectral powers. The old man was lying face-up on the stone floor, his blood spreading in a circle.
A thick silence entered the room.
Balthazar’s skin grew dark like charcoal, his eyes a raging sea. Everyone quavered and rolled like waves around him, waves in Balthazar’s sea—awaiting his wrath.
Only Jessamine was still. Lifting her chin, she spoke a stream of words. Ancient words.
Gradually, her words filtered through into people’s ears. They all turned to the pale girl who stood at the top of the stairs.
She finished abruptly, gazing around at everyone. “Those words are from Grandfather to you. Words to unbind spirits, learned when he was a child at the castle.”
The whites of Balthazar’s eyes shone in the darkness. His face became terror.
Knocking, scratching noises sounded from beneath us.
Balthazar backed away, his breaths strained and heavy.
With a yell, Zach jumped from the staircase and raced across the room. Pushing past his father, Parker followed him. Together, they dropped to their knees and heaved open the trapdoor of the ghost hole—the oubliette.
Filmy, grayish beings rose from the oubliette. Tangled, warped human shapes. Cold, coiled rage and hate bled from the beings. Circling Balthazar, they pulled him into the oubliette. His strangled screams echoed through the wide darkness of the dungeons—screams at the pain of his human flesh being torn from his bones.
His screams were terror and confusion and agony. He’d spent centuries as a spirit and only days as a human being, and I knew that pain would be alien to him.
The ghosts were not quick with Balthazar. They tortured him in slow increments.
The screaming stopped abruptly, and a dark cloud smoked from the cell. An acrid, burning smell filled my nostrils. I knew Balthazar was gone.
The people of the castle stood in mute shock, their mouths gaping and limbs frozen.
The spirits rose. For a moment, I could see faces amongst them. Faces of men, of women, of children. Then they vanished.
A loud crack came as something burst through the flooring. An ancient, gnarled tree root forced its way in through the stonework.
More roots punched their way through the floor, writhing as they crawled along the stone tiles.
I stared down in horror. The ancient tree that the castle grounds had been built upon were reclaiming their territory.
The people of the castle galvanized all at once. In a pack, they rushed away up the stairs.
“Zach! Get out of there!” Zach’s father stopped on the stairway as the others fled past him trying to escape.
Zach ignored him.
Parker and Emerson ran to grab Zach. Zach wrestled himself away from them. Taking the sword Balthazar had dropped to the ground, Zach scrambled up a three-quarter wall. His eyes were wild and intent—a look I’d never seen on his face before. Jumping from the wall to one of the ropes that held me, he slashed the ropes free from my ankles and one of my arms.
“Zachary!” his father ordered. “Don’t be stupid.”
Zach’s hair fell over his face. “I’ve been stupid my whole life,” he called back.
He turned his head to me. “Hold on. When I cut the last of the ropes, I want you to swing to the wall. Can you do that?”
I tried to swallow but my throat was dry. I nodded at him. He sawed at the rope with the sword, and then pushed me. The rope arced across to the wall, taking me with it. Making a desperate grab for the wall, I caught hold of it and climbed on top.
Zach was left suspended on the rope, too high for him to jump to the floor without breaking every bone in his body.
“Henry!” Mr. Batiste roared. “You have to help my son!”
But Henry was gone. I knew where Henry would have raced away to—he would have gone to save his beloved astronomical clock. Even Zach’s mother had left—probably to save the family heirlooms. Everyone was gone. Parker and Emerson shot desperate glances back at Zach as they raced up the crumbling stairway. Mr. Batiste was the last one left in the dungeons. He stumbled as he made a leap for the top landing. Below, the floor heaved and cracked open. His cry echoed as he was sent tumbling down into the void.
Zach’s jaw tensed at the sound of the crashing stonework of the stairway and his father’s cry. But he didn’t turn to look.
Far below, a wide crack tore along the floor—stonework exploding through the air. A gaping pit opened up. I cried out as Ethan’s body fell deep into the dark chasm. My heart fell with him. I wanted to go with him. I knew I could not. All of this was not about me. I had to try, with everything left in me, to get out of here.
The floor directly beneath me sunk and disappeared as tree roots pulled the stonework down.
I raised my eyes to Zach. Both of us were going to die. Now, there was no way out.
His mouth trembled in a suffering torment. A silent message passed from him to me. It’s my fault you are where you are now. I did this to you.
I gave a slow shake of my head, gripping the shaking wall. No, Zach, you didn’t do this to me.
Tree roots pushed their way through the walls, their limbs knotting as they climbed upwards and over each other. The rope that held Zach snapped. His body tumbled free, falling into the cavernous floor.
My scream echoed in my ears, above the crashing sounds of breaking stone.
Away, in the duskiness at the bottom of the stairs, Jessamine stood by her grandfather’s side, as though waiting. A transparent figure lif
ted itself from the body of Tobias. Rising to his feet, a transparent Tobias put a hand on Jessamine’s shoulder and smiled at her with crinkled eyes.
Jessamine turned to me. “We must leave now, Calliope. I am not so bold as to ask your forgiveness, but I am sorry. I know now that we imprison ourselves—and therefore others—in the worst of ways.”
She held out her hand. I felt myself lifted from the wall. She set me down on the only intact piece of floor. The stonework beside the stairs that led downward had crumbled away—leaving the steps exposed like the bones of a body.
“Where do you wish to go, Calliope?” she asked me.
“I want to stay here.”
“As you wish.” She hesitated, staring at me. “You should not drink from the pool of Mnemosyne, Calliope. There is peace in darkness.”
Tobias looked on me with kind eyes. The figures of grandfather and granddaughter merged with the dim light and disappeared.
I turned and fled to the stairwell that would lead me down into the twisting earth.
32. Heartbeat
CASSIE
In the ocean cave, I waded through the cold water to the edge of the rock platform, and tried to catch my breath. Keep your mind strong, Ethan had told me, keep your mind steel.
Shrugging off my jacket, I slid the eye from the back compartment. With trembling hands I placed it on the stone pedestal—it fit snugly into the concave space.
With backward steps, I found my way to the ruins of the ship and hid myself.
I sensed her coming.
My breaths rang hollow in my chest. Far away, the sun hung low on the horizon. In other earths, the sun was setting right now on people who knew nothing of a world turned to ice and decay, who knew nothing of serpents and shadows. This was not one of those worlds.
A massive shape pushed through the dark water. Every muscle in my body pulled tight. The last rays of sunlight lit the iridescent scales on her head, shining through her cold silver eyes. Lowering her head, she let the crystal fit itself into the concave space in her forehead.
Moments passed. The ocean flooded in and out of the cave. I stood silently as the icy water swilled around my legs.