The Complete Set

by Ainsley Shay

  I threw the cup to the other side of the cell and rested my head on the straw beneath me. My body was exhausted. It hadn’t been active in days, but it felt like it was running a marathon, day after day. I felt close, very close to being complete; whatever complete meant. The lights were brighter, and I was more sensitive to sounds. The elements in my world of grays were more distinct and detailed.

  Two more times Chandler had come to my cell. He never stayed longer than to exchange cups. After the exchange, he left the dungeon. On the last night he came, something was different but I couldn’t figure out what. He had set the new cup down, left the old where it was, and left the cell. I lowered my arms from the chain and picked up the blood. There was a new feel with my body, it felt rearing to leap without bounds and jump high enough to catch the stars. I took a large gulp of the blood. Drinking it as fast I could was still the best way. As I emptied the cup, something clanked. Metal against metal. The light in the cell was nil. I moved to the bars and tried to use the light from the torches along the corridor to see. I peered into the cup. It was still nearly half full so I titled the cup back and drank the rest. I kept the gag and lurching of my stomach in check and was able to keep the blood down. Each time I drank, I felt the liquid forcing its way through my veins and into my muscles; I was strong. Adelina had been right when she said I’d know when I was ready. The inside of my body had changed, manipulated into something else.

  I looked into the empty cup and smiled when I picked up the key.

  15

  Chandler? I thought. Was his demeanor simply a zombie-puppet charade? Joy, like I had never felt before, overwhelmed me. He would not only be one less person I had to save, but he could help me break the spell Blacwin was under, and kill Lord Darenfys. Some of the weight of needing to feel like a hero lifted.

  Curling, menacing thoughts weaved their way into my happiness. What if Adelina had been the one to give me the key? Would she risk her life, by still being in the castle, to carry out her plan? The question had already been answered numerous times, she would stop at nothing.

  It took me a long time to think of what to do next. Should I stay here for the next time Chandler came back—if Chandler came back? A turbulent storm of nightmares, threats, and dangerous witches collided in my head. I took a deep breath and stood. The mental body scan I performed was amazing. The core of my being was strong. My limbs felt light, but able to pick up or maneuver anything. Every nerve ending was electrified with sensations of the dank air, the cool metal of the bars, the fibers in the hay under my heel. I felt like my body had been sleeping until now.

  I felt like I had been reborn.

  Days had gone by since I had first started drinking the blood. From what I’d read in Adelina’s journal, she’d waited for six days, until the moon was full. I didn’t exactly know how many days it had been, or what stage the moon was in. But, this was my chance to make all of this right. The key fit into the keyhole perfectly. My heart was racing. My blood heated in my veins as it mixed with the adrenaline being released in large quantities into my system. I closed my eyes and turned the key. The lock disengaged. I swore the clang that followed was louder than it ever had been when Rift or Chandler opened it. It was probably the pounding of blood in my ears, causing my head to throb, that made the noise seem louder. I imagined dozens of Skelside guards racing down the spiral staircase to capture me. Closing my eyes before I stepped out of the cell helped calm my nerves. The light from the torches was brighter in the corridor than it had been in the cell. I took a deep breath and let it out, feeling some of my anxiety ebb away.

  For a few moments, I stood motionless and listened. My ears pricked at every sound. A scurrying mouse, which I was thankful never paid a visit to my cell, hid something under some straw. The fluttering wings of an insect caught my attention. I glanced in the direction of the torch and saw a small moth dance around the flame. The flickers of fire crackled in the still dungeon. I crept down the corridor to the iron gated entrance. My heart sank as I stared at it. I was left only one key, the key to the cell. The man who had been here with his arms raised to the heavens and moaning was gone. Odd, how I hadn’t realized or remembered the last time I heard his wavering cries.

  The gate was less than one cell away. What if this had been a test by Lord Darenfys to see if I’d try to escape? I groaned and leaned against the bars of the cell. I sighed and again started toward the gate. I took one last step and stopped. A slight grin stole across my face. The gate had never been closed and locked into position. I wanted to jump up and down, clap, squeal, and dance in delight. There were so many things right with this: First, the obvious, the gate was left open, second, it had to have been Chandler, since he was the last one here, and third, Adelina and the Lord did not know I was coming for them.

  Thanks to my diet of only blood, the fitted dress had loosened to a point I could breathe without effort. I had kept the length only to feel protection from the chill in the dungeon, and from any other threats I was fortunate enough not to experience. I held up the hem of the dress and tore the side seam until the rip reached the middle of my thigh. I tore the thin fabric across and around my legs, and tied that piece of cloth around my waist as a belt. There was only one more thing I needed to do before I left. I walked back to my cell, pushed away the straw and retrieved the dagger. Shoving it into the cloth belt, I made my escape.

  With both hands, I pushed the gate open wide enough for me to fit through. The dark winding staircase was the only entrance into the dungeon. I took my first step, and then another. By the time I reached the top landing my nerves simultaneously sang with excitement, terror, and hope. I leaned against the jagged wall and stared at the tall wooden door that opened to the main floor of the castle. My racing heart felt like it was nearly to the point of exploding. The door was the only one at the end of a long corridor. I eased the door open and peeked through the crack. One torch lit the empty hall. I took a deep breath and started down the darkened corridor. My bare feet were quiet on the stone floor. I quickened my pace as I passed the torch. For a few brief seconds I felt like I was in a spotlight, and I placed my hand on the hilt of the dagger on my waist. The weapon gave me a sense of security; false security because I sucked at using it, but security nonetheless.

  I stopped a few feet from the edge of the entrance. Trying to peer around the corners was impossible. I stepped closer to the vast room the corridor led to. When Penemuel brought me to the dungeon I remembered seeing only one guard stationed on the opposite side of the room. His job, I presumed, was to ensure only those with permission left the dungeon. As expected, he was there. His eyes where fixed on the opening exactly where I stood. My only advantage was I had been far enough from the torch’s light, so I was in almost complete darkness.

  I peeked again at the guard. He stood as still as a statue. I wanted to leap out of the darkened hall and run. But, that wasn’t an option. The guard would be on me in less time than it would take me to say hi. He would have to leave at some point, or there would be a shift change. Right? That would be a distraction. I only needed a small moment to reach the other side of the room to get to the corridor that led to the room with the painted dome. Then, I wasn’t sure what to do or where to go. But, I’d be farther away from the dungeon.

  Chandler! Where was Chandler? If he’d helped me get this far, wouldn’t he be waiting for me, or leave a clue as to what I should do next? I knelt in the shadows and waited. It was all I could do for now. Even as strong as I had become, and using my keen senses, I was no match for the guard. I tried to form a plan. Getting to the Lord would not be easy. He still loved me, thought he loved me, so I had that in my favor. I shifted, and the tip of the dagger scraped the ground. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed the guard had not heard. And, if he had, he thought an insect or rodent scurrying around for food made the noise.

  I didn’t know how much time had passed before I heard someone coming. A thud against leather and then another one echoed off the stone walls.
I inched closer to the edge of the passage. Two guards stood with their fists on their chest. After they lowered them, the guard who had been on shift left and the new guard took his place. His stance was purposeful and reserved. I had no idea how long their shifts were, but it seemed I was destined to stay hidden in the dark corridor for a very long time. It seemed there would be no relief, when suddenly the guard’s posture relaxed. He turned his head in my direction and looked directly at me. I swore he couldn’t see me in the darkness, but I scooted deeper into the passage. Then, one faint footfall after another grew louder as he approached my hiding spot. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut. I wrapped my arms around my legs, gathering myself into a small ball. The frantic beat of my heart was almost painful. If the guard didn’t kill me, I was sure I would die of a heart attack. The strange blood in my veins pumped viciously through me. The sound of footsteps stopped. “I know you’re in there.”

  I said nothing. I was officially a dead girl. The sensations of strength and keen senses I had felt earlier had been replaced with fear. My skin heated and chilled in alternating rapid succession. Sweat covered every inch of my body.

  “Show yourself.”

  Nothing.

  “Are you going to make me come in there and get you?”

  I nodded as I imagined the guard pulling me out into the open by my hair.

  “It’s your choice,” the guard said.

  He took another step, and another, until he was standing over me. I didn’t dare look up.

  The guard moved again. Something scraped the ground. I felt his warm breath on my neck when he spoke. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to kill the Lord from that position,” he whispered.

  Whiplash was what I felt when my head shot up and jerked in the direction of the guard. His mask was off and the most brilliant smile was on Chandler’s face. I reached out and pulled him to me. We hugged like we had never hugged before. Silent sobs and hot tears broke free. I couldn’t contain the relief bursting from me. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. You hadn’t wanted to ever come back here, and for me, and Snow—you did. I don’t know how I’ll ever—”

  “Shhhhh...” he said. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m sure I can speak for Blacwin on that one as well.”

  Blacwin. His name alone caused me the worst kind of torment. “Will he be okay?”

  A grim smile passed over his mouth. “Let’s hope so.”

  His reply wasn’t what I wanted or needed to hear. I closed my eyes and dropped my head into my hands. “This is all my fault.”

  “No, it’s not. Look at me.”

  I did. “If it weren’t for—”

  “The Carving Witch, none of us would be here. So, get over the self-pity party and let’s get you to where you need to be.”

  Chandler always did have a way of putting me straight.

  I nodded as a new fear set in. It was time to kill the Lord.

  16

  “Where’s Blacwin?” I asked in a hushed voice, as we made our way through the unoccupied corridors. Chandler held my hand and guided me through passageways and vast rooms I had never seen before.

  “The last time I saw him, he was guarding your room.”

  That didn’t begin to make sense. “And the purpose of guarding a room no one is in is beneficial, why?”

  “I believe Lord Darenfys found humor in assigning him there. Or, because he promised you Blacwin would be your personal guard. I don’t know.”

  The walls of the castle were flooded in glowing light from the torches. I wanted to extinguish them, to put us in darkness, but that would prove to be stupid; a downside for us would be not seeing anyone coming toward us. We kept a brisk pace through the main floor of the castle. Voices and footfalls could be heard up ahead. Chandler jerked us to a stop inside a side passage. Our backs were pressed hard against the wall. The stone bit through the thin fabric and into my back. He raised a finger to his lips. The men were closing in on us and I prayed they would pass us by. I glanced down the passage at a door at the end of the hall. I tugged on Chandler’s arm and nodded toward the door. His eyes were leveled on mine; his mouth was set in a severe line as he shook his head.

  I couldn’t imagine taking down two guards was a better idea than running in the opposite direction. Getting his attention again, I pursed my lips and thumbed toward the door. He mouthed, “No.”

  The men were very close now. Chandler nudged my shoulder to scoot down, away from the entrance. My back scraped along the jagged wall. I winced and covered my mouth to stifle my cries. Chandler’s hand tightened over mine. I could barely breathe. He glanced around the corner. The two guards passed. Their gazes moved from side to side, sweeping the room. Chandler lowered his hand from my mouth. I filled my lungs with the stale air of the tight hallway. My racing heart slowed.

  Chandler turned to me. “Iris, listen to me. You are stronger now—”

  “Not strong enough to take out one of the guards.”

  “Don’t underestimate yourself. You’ve been drinking Lord Darenfys’ blood for over a week. His strength, speed, and agility are very fresh in your veins. You have the advantage over any of these guards. And, let’s not forget, his immortality. Which means, it would be very difficult to kill you.”

  “But that doesn’t mean—”

  He held up his hand. “What it means is someone would have to slice off your head to kill you. Does that make you feel better?”

  “I guess...” I said, but I was pretty sure my face said it all: my turned up nose, scrunched forehead, and the lifted corner of my mouth. The thought of getting my head chopped off was more than I wanted to think about. I knew I had changed, I’d felt different in the dungeon, but, I hadn’t realized how different. It was still disgusting to know a monster’s blood was in me, forever. That was the part I couldn’t get past.

  “Good.” He took my hand and we left the darkness of the passage and entered the large room.

  Books were everywhere. They were stacked in corners, lined on shelves, laid open on tables and chairs. It reminded me of Yves Antiques Pages. It had seemed like forever since I thought about the old man, and an empty guilt settled in the pit of my stomach. It had been even longer since I had seen him... I wanted to go home. “Chandler, I want to go home.”

  He stopped and pulled me into his arms. “I know you do, so do I. Soon, this will all be over.”

  That moment could not come quick enough. I found myself doing what I had been taught all my life not to do, wish my life away. He released me and led me out of the library. After we’d rounded another couple of corners, we passed a few large rooms, one of them being the dining hall, which I remembered well. I knew we were close to the vast center room with the painted dome. From here, I knew how to get to my room. I picked up my pace, unable to get to Blacwin fast enough.

  Chandler pulled my hand and I spun around to face him. “What are you doing? We have to get Blacwin so we can—” I stopped mid-sentence when I saw his light eyes fill with worry. I studied his face. His features were grim. “What’s wrong?”

  “Iris, I was going to let you see for yourself, but, I can’t do that to you.” He fumbled with the strap of the helmet he had attached to his side.

  “Chandler, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

  He looked away from me. When his eyes settled on mine they were filled with pain and regret. “He’s not the same.”

  I didn’t understand what he was trying to tell me. I didn’t care. The only thing I wanted to do was run into Blacwin’s arms. I needed to feel safe and to know he was all right. “I have no idea what you mean, but I don’t care.”

  I started down the hall. Chandler grabbed my upper arm. “Iris, all I’m saying is for you to prepare yourself for what they did to him.” He sighed. “Penemuel was much harder on him than he was me. And, Blacwin didn’t help. He challenged his brother. Penemuel—”

  I tore out of his grasp and headed down the narrow corridor. I heard Chandl
er behind me. I slowed as I rounded the corner and saw a guard standing motionless by the door of my room. His stance was rigid and forbidding. His head jerked toward us. His beautiful eyes were the only feature of his face I could see, the helmet covered the rest. As I came closer, I saw a darkened area around his left eye. I wondered what other bruises and marks covered his body. “Blacwin,” I whispered.

  “This corridor is off limits to everyone in the castle.” There was no recognition in his eyes when he saw us.

  “Are you hurt?” I asked.

  “Please leave this area and return the way you came.”

  Chandler reached for my hand, but I pulled away. I took a hesitant step toward Blacwin. His shoulders stiffened and his hand moved to the handle of his sword. My heart sank deeper than any ocean. I thought maybe the closer I could get to him, something would click and he would remember me. His eyes narrowed and he was prepared to slide out the long blade at any given second. Hatred for the Lord and Penemuel ran through me as dark as the flesh of the creatures in the moat. Rage swam through me as hot as lava. I couldn’t lose him. I reached out to touch his arm. His eyes lit with fury and I reeled back.

  “I told you to leave this area.” Blacwin’s voice was as hard as iron.

  Chandler put his hand on my shoulder and tried to turn me to face him. I shook it off. I wasn’t going to give up on the man who’d risked his life, more than once, to save mine. “Please Blacwin, take off your helmet and look at me, see me,” I pleaded. I knew when he really looked at me, he’d snap out of it. “See me as the girl you taught to see colors. You taught me to feel how bright and warm yellow can be, how the color of true midnight is shades lighter than the darkest of colors, and the scorching flames of red or how it can be a delicate and soft rose. Blacwin, without you, I’d never feel the freedom and calm of blue, or the security and vastness of gray.” I lowered my head. The tears that had not fallen in so long threatened the corners of my eyes.