The Fallen (Hades Castle Trilogy Book 1)

by C. N. Crawford

  The Fallen

  C.N. Crawford

  For Linsey Hall, who helped me come up with ideas for this book.

  Contents

  1. Lila

  2. Lila

  3. Count Saklas

  4. Lila

  5. Lila

  6. Lila

  7. Lila

  8. Lila

  9. Count Saklas

  10. Lila

  11. Lila

  12. Count Saklas

  13. Lila

  14. Lila

  15. Lila

  16. Lila

  17. Lila

  18. Lila

  19. Lila

  20. Lila

  21. Lila

  22. Samael

  23. Lila

  24. Lila

  25. Lila

  26. Lila

  27. Lila

  28. Lila

  29. Lila

  30. Samael

  31. Lila

  32. Lila

  33. Lila

  34. Lila

  35. Lila

  36. Lila

  37. Lila

  38. Samael

  39. Lila

  40. Lila

  41. Lila

  42. Lila

  43. Lila

  44. Lila

  45. Lila

  46. Lila

  47. Samael

  48. Lila

  Chapter one of Infernal by Linsey Hall

  49. Also by C.N. Crawford

  Acknowledgments

  1

  Lila

  When I was a kid, I dreamt of living in the castle that loomed over our city, a place of magic and intrigue. As I got older, I started to learn that even the slums had their own kind of magic. If you knew where to look, you could feel the power of ancient kings thrumming under the stones beneath your feet.

  Tonight, warm lights shone through some of the windows through the fog, and the sound of a distant piano floated on the wind, winding between narrow alleys. No one was out here, just me and the salty breeze, the shadows growing longer as the sun slid lower in the sky. The mist curled around brick tenements that groaned toward each other, crooked with age. Fog skimmed over the dark, cobbled street.

  I didn’t care what anyone thought—this city was beautiful.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets, glad the day was over. Like every Friday night, I was heading for the Bibliotek Music Hall. Some lovely chap would buy me a drink. I’d dance till the sun came up and the blackbirds started to sing.

  I knew every alley, every hiding spot, every haunted corner where pirates once hung in gallows. I’d grown up to the sound of the seagulls overhead and the lapping of the Dark River against the embankment.

  But tonight as I walked, the sense of wonder started to darken a little. The shadows seemed to thicken.

  Every now and then, the crowded streets could feel like a trap. Because as much as I loved the place, it wasn’t necessarily populated by gentlemen.

  And right now, the familiar magic was being replaced by a sense of menace. It lingered in the air, making goosebumps rise on my skin, but I wasn’t sure why.

  I picked up my pace, envisioning the fresh bread and cheese I’d get at the Bibliotek Music Hall. Maybe I just needed a proper snack.

  But why did I feel like someone was following me?

  When I sniffed, I smelled whale oil, pitch pine and turpentine. Ah. Bloody hell. That was what had me on edge. The Rough Boys—a gang who lived on an old boat in the docks—always reeked of their ship. I could smell them from here, even if I couldn’t see them yet.

  Were they following me? Had I stolen something that belonged to them? I spent my days on the docks, in and out of ships and warehouses. I pilfered tea and other valuables, passing them off to a network of thieves.

  Not glamorous, admittedly, but it was honest work.

  Okay, fine. It wasn’t honest either, but it meant I got to eat.

  I glanced over my shoulder, and that was when my pulse kicked up a notch. I swallowed hard. Three of them stood at the end of the street, fog billowing around them like ghost ships on a misty sea. I recognized them right away by their signature look—shaggy hair and pea coats.

  “Oi! Pussycat!” One of them shouted for me, voice booming off stone walls. “I got a message for your mum! She needs to pay up.”

  “No thanks!” I shouted.

  I knew how they sent messages—with their blades, carved in skin. Mum owed them money, which meant I owed them money. And if I didn’t pay up they’d take a knife to me fast.

  I whirled and raced through the narrow street.

  “It’s not exactly optional!” One of them shouted after me.

  Where were the bloody coppers when you needed them? Always around when I pinched something, but never when cutthroats were after me.

  At least I knew these streets as well as I knew my own body. If I could keep up the pace, I could lose the bastards.

  My feet hammered the pavement, arms pumping as I ran. My brown curls streamed behind me. Puddles soaked into my socks through the holes in my threadbare shoes. I wanted to look behind me, to see how close they were, but that little movement would cost me. I knew if I slowed down, there’d be more of their gang crawling from the shadows. Fear was giving me speed.

  The Rough Boys took people’s noses, eyelids, ears. If I could avoid it, I’d prefer not to walk around like a mutilated horror show for the rest of my life.

  So as they chased me, I dodged from one dark alley to the next, rounding the labyrinthine corners, keeping to the shadows, trying to lose them.

  But the Rough Boys were taller than me, and just as fast, sprinting like jackals over the stones.

  “Lila, is it? Pretty lady.” One of them shouted. “We just need to have a little chat.”

  Did they think if they called me pretty I’d simper over to them, blushing?

  I was good in a fight—better than most men, even—but a fight with a gang in their territory was always a losing prospect. There were always more of them ready to slink out of alleys. My sister Alice taught me never to draw your knife unless you knew you could win.

  Except I couldn’t run forever, and I needed just a moment to catch my breath. At twenty-five, I was already getting slow. Embarrassing.

  Breathless, I took a sharp turn onto Dagger Row. Then I darted into a shadowy alley between two brick walls. I hid deep in the darkness, listening with relief as the cutthroats ran on past. Oblivious.

  A smile curled my lips. You lived another night.

  Perhaps I’d make it to twenty-six with my face intact.

  For just a moment, I rested, hands on my thighs. Crowded tenements rose up on either side of me. Dirty water ran in the gutters. I straightened again and peered out from the alley.

  No one around.

  I pulled the hood of my coat tight, then started walking at a fast clip.

  The winding streets had taken me on a jagged path back toward the river. Before I crossed onto the next street, I peered around the corner to the right. I shivered at the sight of Castle Hades.

  The ancient fortress was still breathtaking, every time I looked at it. Its dark stone loomed over a bustling city of merchants and beggars, holy sisters and street crawlers. We all looked up to it with awe.

  The castle’s four central towers rose up like ancient obelisks against the night sky. Two enormous rings of stone walls fortified the exterior, and a moat surrounded it.. Once, the castle had gleamed white in the sun, and lions roamed the courtyards. Just fifty years ago, ravens had swooped over its twenty-one towers, and true Albian kings and queens danced in the courtyards.

  Back then, we used to think the ravens protected Dovren.
That they were good luck.

  But the ravens had done nothing when invaders arrived on the Dark River—an army of elite warriors, headed by the ruthless Count Saklas. The ravens didn’t help at all when Count Saklas beheaded our king in his own dungeon.

  Now, the count ruled the whole kingdom from the castle’s stone walls. Our citizens hung from gallows and gibbets outside, macabre warnings. Anyone who opposed his rule got the death penalty.

  Pretty sure the bastard killed the ravens, too, because of course he did.

  Two years ago, the last time anyone saw my sister Alice, she was carrying red silks into the castle. Then, she just disappeared. No idea what happened to her. It felt like the castle had swallowed her up.

  Shivering, I turned away, thinking warmly of the Bibliotek Music Hall. My friend Zahra would be waiting for me, probably already with a cocktail in hand. In my pocket, I had a tiny nip of whiskey, and I pulled it out to take a sip and warm myself up. Cheap and strong, it burned my throat.

  Maybe the count had conquered my country, but we still had the best music in the world. And we knew how to throw a party.

  But just as I was starting to let down my guard, the sound of footfalls echoed behind me. I whirled, and fear jolted me as dark shadows emerged from the fog.

  Bloody hell. The Rough Boys had found me again.

  2

  Lila

  “Lila!” they shouted. “Got a message, don’t we?”

  It looked like I’d be taking the fast route to the music hall, then. Breaking into an all-out sprint, my feet pounded the cobbles, echoing off the buildings around me.

  Even as my lungs burned and my legs ached, I knew I was going to run until I collapsed, and died, or reached the music hall. Because I would not be losing any parts of my face tonight. I was rather attached to them.

  Heaving for breath, I sprinted up Savage Lane. Here, the shops were shuttered for the night, windows dark. I still had ten streets to go.

  As I ran, the sound of my breath formed a rhythm along with my feet.

  Nine streets.

  When I was a kid, my sister Alice and I played a game: we’d run through the alleys pretending a phantom called Skin-Monster Trevor was chasing us. I’m not sure where Alice got the name, but I imagined him as terrifying. If he caught us, he’d leave behind nothing but a pile of bloody bones. I could almost hear Alice’s voice in my mind, telling me to run. Lila! Trevor’s coming for you! He’ll kill you!

  Only it wasn’t a phantom chasing me now. It was real flesh and blood men who wanted to carve me up.

  My gaze darted across the street, where a narrow alley jutted off from the main road between abandoned shops. I veered into it.

  From behind, the gang’s boots pounded the stones.

  With burning lungs, I careened out of the mouth of the alley onto Magpie Court—a cramped little street lined with slum houses, where everything stank of piss and old fish.

  Almost there… almost to Bibliotek …

  “Stop running, little pussycat!” they shouted from behind me. “Lovely Lila!”

  What a charmer. But I wasn’t about to stop and deliver myself into their hands, was I?

  I turned the corner. Ahead of me, gas lamps lit the road with wavering light. This was Cock Row, so named because it bordered a park of shadowy trees, where the bunters worked—the street whores. Opposite the park, the enormous music hall stretched out over the entire square.

  I was almost to the doors now. I stole a glance over my shoulder and relief flooded me.

  No sign of the Rough Boys. I’d lost them again. Ha! Slow bastards.

  I actually laughed with relief. Not bad, Lila. Not bad at all.

  With my hand on the doorknob, I glanced up at the Bibliotek Music Hall, at the beaming windows crowded with dancing people. Three stories of red brick rose up before me. On the first floor, a stone facade had once been painted a vibrant red, but now it had faded and peeled into something more beautiful. I liked it that way. Music pulsed through the walls, brassy and booming. This decadent place had everything I could ever want.

  Except, apparently, a very key feature right now: a way in.

  I tried to turn the doorknob again, and a tendril of dread curled through me. Locked.

  My heart thudded against my ribs. Why was the door locked? Was someone having a laugh?

  No, everyone loved me in Bibliotek. Finn or one of the other doormen must’ve closed it down to take a piss, which was distinctly bad timing as far I was concerned.

  I banged on the door. “Hello? Finn? Anyone?”

  When they didn’t answer, I shoved my hand into my pocket for my lock picks. But before I could get started, my stomach lurched. Boots thumped on cobbles.

  The Rough Boys were running down the narrow pathway, gunning for me. A whole pack of them now; they’d brought reinforcements.

  My gaze flicked to the torches that hung from the reddish stone, and I grabbed one of them.

  As I held it out at them, its warmth beamed over my face. “Step back!” I shouted.

  Smoke billowed before my face.

  The turpentine they reeked of—from their ship—was in fact very flammable. The whale oil, too.

  A pair of cutthroats stepped from the pack. The one on the right was a good foot taller than the other, but both were pure muscle, both had shaggy blond curls. They might even be brothers.

  I whirled. As they tried to surround me, I used the flaming torch to try to keep them at bay.

  The tall one raised his hands, though he didn’t actually look one bit afraid of the fire. “Easy there, darling. All we need is two thousand crowns.”

  “Oh that’s all, is it? That’s about a year’s rent!”

  One of the men behind him said, “Your mum borrowed it from Diamond Danny, and he charges interest. And time’s up now, isn’t it?”

  Another of Mum’s terrible decisions coming home to roost.

  The smoke curled around my eyes, making it hard to see.

  Shorty pulled out a curved dagger and twirled it against his fingertips. “Since you can’t pay up, we will need to send your mum a message so she understands the severe-ious-ness of the situation, as it were.”

  I swung the torch before them, trying to ward them off. Plumes of smoke filled the air.

  “Don’t worry doll,” one of them said. “We’ll just be taking a few bits of you with us. Flesh tokens. Nose and a few other bits.”

  Where the hell was Finn? If I lost my nose because he was having a crack at one of the barmaids, I’d haunt his sleep every night till he died.

  “I’ll get you the money,” I stalled. “I promise. I just don’t have it right now.”

  The tall one grinned, giving me an unfortunate view of his rotten teeth. “Courtesan, are ya? Too pretty to be one of them street bunters. Won’t get much work without a nose though, will ya? Bit of a pickle.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Has it ever occurred to you that this city needs a new banking system with more reasonable penalties?”

  Shorty nodded at me. “Nah, she’s not a courtesan. Lila’s a dock thief isn’t she? Steals from the ships. Little magpie. Works for Ernald.”

  I didn’t want to drag my boss into this. “Don’t worry about Ernald. I’ll get you your money in no time.”

  I had no idea how. I just needed time to think of something.

  The tall one shook his head and pulled out another, longer knife. “Sure, but we’ll need a few bits of your face to get the message across to everyone. Your mum. Ernald. Otherwise, every beggar in Dovren will mess Diamond Danny around, won’t they? Think they can borrow money without paying it back. He don’t like people making him into a mug. So we’ve gotta send a message, take a few pieces of you with us. A few flesh tokens.”

  Now, all my muscles had gone totally rigid, and fear twisted my stomach. “Please stop saying ‘flesh tokens.’ It is a deeply unpleasant phrase.” I swung the torch in an arc. They leaned back a little. “Deeply unpleasant.”

  “Easy there,
little doll,” the tall one said in a soothing tone. His knife flashed in the torchlight.

  “Finn?” I shouted again, panic ringing in my voice. “Anyone?”

  The music from inside was drowning me out.

  The tall Rough Boy started moving away from the other, and my blood roared in my ears. I couldn’t keep them both at bay with the torch forever. It would only take one of them to grab me from behind.

  Think fast.

  I pulled the cheap whiskey from my pocket, took a searing sip, then blew on the torch. With the alcohol on my breath, a burst of flame exploded in their direction.

  I didn’t stick around to watch him go up in flames, but I did hear his screams. I pivoted, then kicked the door as hard as I could. I’d hoped to break it open, but instead my foot went through the old wood. Splinters rained around it, but it remained shut. Locked.

  The smaller Rough Boy slung his arm around my throat from behind, squeezing. I dropped the torch on the pavement. I elbowed him twice in the ribs, as hard as I could. When he released his grip, I brought my elbow up hard into his jaw. Then I shoved my hand through the broken door, unlatching the dead bolt from inside.

  I bolted up the stairs and into a music hall crowded with dancers, and the raucous sound of horns and a bass drum. No one had even noticed the scene outside. I elbowed and shoved my way through the crowd as hard as I could.