The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood And Ash Series Book 3)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  A horse-drawn wagon passed, the driver hunched over and unaware of the small child racing along the cobblestone sidewalk, carrying a stack of papers. His red-cheeked face was stained with soot, and his blond hair was slick and unkempt as he rushed into the street—

  Casteel’s hand snapped out, catching the child by the scruff of the neck and hauling him back.

  “Hey! Let go of me, sir!” the boy shouted, holding onto the newspapers with everything in him. “I ain’t done—” He quieted as the powerful hooves of the horses and wagon wheels pounded by inches from his face. “Shit,” the child whispered.

  “You’re welcome,” Casteel replied, placing the child on the sidewalk.

  The kid whirled around, his eyes wide. “Thank you, sir! I would’ve been flattened like me momma’s bread.” He turned wide eyes to the street.

  “Flattened like his momma’s bread?” Delano whispered behind me, and I fought a laugh.

  “You can thank me by telling me what happened to the Rise,” Casteel said, his hand slipping inside his cloak. “To cause the cracks in it.”

  The child’s brows knitted as he stared up at the shadowy area of Casteel’s face. “It was the ground, sir. It rocked here, and I heard from Telly at the fish stand that the ground shook all the way to the capital. My momma said it was the gods. That they’d been angered.”

  I didn’t know what would cause such a quake, but I knew it hadn’t been the gods.

  “When did this happen?” Casteel asked.

  “I don’t know. Like a month or so ago.” The boy shifted from one foot to the other. “How do you not know when everything was shaking?”

  “I suppose I was sleeping,” Casteel replied, and I rolled my eyes.

  The boy stared at him in disbelief, but the look quickly turned to wonder as Casteel withdrew his hand from his cloak, dropping several coins atop the stack of papers. The child’s little eyes widened.

  “Next time, try looking both ways before running out into the street,” Casteel said, stepping around the kid.

  “Thank you!” the little boy yelled and then took off.

  “Just so you know,” Kieran drawled a few seconds later, “he did not look both ways.”

  “Of course, not,” Casteel replied, walking so his body was between mine and the street.

  “What do you think caused the quake?” I asked as we moved deeper into the city, cutting down an alley overflowing with trash. I tried not to breathe.

  “I really don’t know.” Casteel glanced at me. “I’ve never heard of a quake that extended from here to Carsodonia.”

  “Well, if the gods were awake and had to smell this alley,” Kieran began, “I understand why they’d make the ground shake.”

  “It’s not all like this,” I reminded them. “The people who live here don’t have a choice, other than to make do with what they have.”

  “We know,” Casteel said quietly, leading us onto another packed, filthy street.

  Our pace was quick as we navigated the congested streets and neighborhoods, working our way around vendors, others hurrying about their daily tasks, and those who appeared to shuffle aimlessly in their ragged, limp clothing, their faces drawn, and skin ghostly pale. They reminded me so much of the Craven that my stomach turned. I wondered and then feared that they were suffering from a wasting sickness that often arrived in the night to steal the lives of those sleeping.

  A sickness I now knew stemmed from the Ascended’s blood hunger.

  I wasn’t the only one who stared at the poor souls. They also caught Kieran’s and Delano’s attention. The wolven’s dismay and suspicion clouded the already stifling streets.

  Casteel and I ditched our hats but kept our hoods up as we reached the inner parts of the city, while Delano and Kieran left their cloaks behind for whoever needed them. Dressed in all black and equipped with bloodstone short swords, they looked like any guard one would see in a city within the Kingdom of Solis.

  The difference between the district near the Rise and the area which sat nestled below Castle Redrock was striking. This was where air flowed between spaced-out houses, and alleys gave way to winding courtyards and gardens. Where electricity powered restaurants and homes instead of oil, and fewer wagons and more carriages occupied paved, even streets free of waste and litter. The air was cleaner, the sidewalks and lawns maintained. We were forced to slow our steps here unless we wanted to attract the attention of the guards who patrolled, keeping those who did not need protection safe from those who did. Passing couples dressed in fur-lined cloaks and jeweled gowns headed into shops and climbing into carriages, Casteel folded an arm around my waist as I hunched my shoulders. I imagined with a cursory glance, it looked as if Casteel were trying to keep me warm while out for a stroll under the canopies of bushy ferns and overhead walkways.

  Ahead, the castle resembled dried blood caked in the daylight as we crossed the wide, tree-lined road and entered a heavily forested park at the foot of the secondary wall that surrounded Castle Redrock. Once shielded by the woods, Casteel and Kieran led us through the maze of trees and wild berry bushes. No more than half an hour later, the outer wall of Redrock became visible.

  “Are we going to scale the wall?” I asked.

  Casteel chuckled. “That won’t be necessary, my Queen. We will simply walk through it and into one of the old passageways underneath.”

  I glanced at him and then at Kieran, thinking of the inner wall around Castle Teerman and the section near the jacaranda trees. My head snapped back to Casteel. “Are you seriously telling me a part of the wall is down here, too?”

  Grinning, Casteel tugged on the lapel of my cloak as he passed, heading for several low-hanging branches. “The Ascended are known for spending extravagant sums on rich gowns and sparkling stones. But do you know what else they are known for?” He lifted one of the branches, and through the remaining thin, bare limbs was a pile of gray rock at the foot of a narrow opening in the wall. “Their unwillingness to spend any of that coin on the most fundamental upkeep of their cities and even their castles.”

  “Gods,” I muttered, shaking my head.

  Casteel winked.

  “Really is shameful.” Delano knocked several pale shades of hair back from his face. One side of his lips kicked up. “And also very beneficial to us.”

  Casteel led the way, lifting the branches as he passed under them and holding them up for me. The earthy, musty scent that greeted us as we entered the tear in the wall and eased into a dark space reminded me too much of the tunnels that led to Iliseeum. I forced my mind to focus on the plan at hand. According to Casteel and Kieran, the courtyards could be accessed from underground walkways and chambers. From there, we would be able to get an idea of what kind of forces we were dealing with.

  And then? Well, we were going to walk right into the heart of Castle Redrock, into the Great Hall, and announce that we were earlier than expected. We would catch them off guard, and that would surely mess with the heads of the guards and the Blood Crown alike, that we had been able to come in right under their noses. And being caught off guard was often a fatal weakness.

  “Careful.” Casteel found my hand in the darkness. “The ground slopes.”

  “What did the Ascended create this for?” I asked as I tried to make sense of the area we were in.

  “It was here before the Ascended,” Casteel said as he moved like a shadow through the nothingness. He stopped, shouldering a door that creaked softly. A torch-lit earthen tunnel awaited. “The woods led to a path straight to the bluffs. I imagine it was once used for smuggling of some sort.”

  “And I can tell you that the Ascended who once stayed here used it for smuggling of a different sort,” Kieran commented from behind me.

  People.

  They could use it to smuggle mortals in and out of the castle without them ever being seen entering the grounds.

  I shuddered as we walked between the damp stone walls of a passageway, my hand on the wolven dagger’s hilt. We cam
e upon a short set of steps, where the hallway split in two. Casteel headed right.

  “As your advisor,” Kieran began in a low voice as we passed rooms, some with old, wooden doors now barred, and others open to reveal racks of dusty bottles of what I imagined—or hoped—was wine. “I would like to formally suggest the placement of guards at the entrances of any and all tunnels at any of the residences you two may end up staying in.”

  Casteel snorted. “I think that is an excellent suggestion.”

  A sense of wariness rose in Delano, drawing my attention. “What is it?”

  His pale eyes were sharp and alert as he scanned the rooms we passed. “They know we’re coming. You would think that someone in their guard would have thought to station guards in these tunnels just in case, especially since the castle was breached in the past.”

  “Yeah, but they didn’t know this would be how we came in,” Kieran told him.

  Delano had a point, but the Blood Crown rarely left the capital as far as I knew. Would they have known of these tunnels? Would whoever had been placed in the Royal Seat have discovered them? I imagined they had because of how easy it would be to bring people in or to…dispose of bodies.

  Unease prickled my skin as we walked on, crossing another set of short steps. My gaze swept down another narrow hall that Casteel and Kieran passed, their attention focused ahead. There was a chamber to the side, one lit with several torches. I stopped suddenly, nearly causing Delano to walk into me.

  “What is…?” Surprise rocked him as he saw what I did. “Holy shit.”

  “What?” Casteel turned as I pivoted, heading for the chamber. “What are you doing?”

  “The cage—look at what’s in the cage in that room.” I hurried forward, not quite believing what I saw.

  In the center of the small room, a large gray feline struggled to its feet behind bleached-white bars. A wicked sense of deja vu filtered through me.

  “Look,” I repeated, shaking my head. It couldn’t be the same one, but… “This looks just like the cave cat I saw when I was a child.”

  “What the fuck?” muttered Kieran as he stopped at the mouth of the chamber while Casteel strode toward me.

  “That…really does look like a cave cat,” Casteel murmured. The large cat now prowled restlessly, its muscles tensing and bunching under its sleek coat as it peered out from between the bars with vibrant green eyes. Intelligent eyes. Knowing ones. “Why in the hell would they keep this here?”

  “Or bring it with them?” Delano added softly, his eyes narrowed on the creature. “The damn thing looks underfed.”

  It really did.

  I started toward it. The cat stopped, watching me.

  “Poppy,” Casteel whispered. “We need to hurry.”

  “I know. I just…” I didn’t know how to explain what I felt. Why the eather in my chest hummed so violently now.

  “Okay. So you were right. They have a cave cat.” Tension crowded Kieran’s voice. “But we don’t have time to free the castle pets.”

  I knew we didn’t have time, and I also doubted that a cave cat or any wild animal could be kept alive this long in a cage. But I…I couldn’t stop myself. I knelt before the cage, the cat’s unblinking stare capturing mine. I reached through the bars—

  “Poppy! Don’t you dare stick your hand—” Casteel shot forward.

  Too late.

  The tips of my fingers brushed soft fur as Casteel’s hand wrapped around my arm. He jerked my hand back as the cat shuddered and—and kept shuddering.

  “What’s happening?” Panic exploded as Casteel dragged me to my feet. “Did I hurt it? I didn’t mean to—”

  I stopped.

  We all stopped and stared.

  Even Kieran.

  The feline’s fur stood up as it sank to its haunches, shaking fiercely. Silvery white light seeped across its eyes, spitting and crackling. Under the glossy fur, the cat’s skin began to glow—

  “Oh, gods,” Delano groaned. “You really need to stop touching things, Poppy.”

  The fur retracted into skin that smoothed and became a golden, wheatish tone. Long, russet-colored hair fell forward, brushing the floor of the cage, shielding much of the nude man kneeling behind the bars, his upper body tucked close to his lower half. The sharp definition of the bones and muscles along his shoulders and legs showed how frail he was, but through the matted hair, vivid green eyes locked with mine once more.

  The man shuddered again, and as quickly as he’d appeared mortal, he was once more a large feline. The cat was flat on his belly now, trembling and shivering, his head lowered.

  “I’ll ask again,” Kieran said. “What in the actual fuck?”

  “Maybe he’s a wivern,” Delano murmured, referencing one of the bloodlines believed to be extinct. “Or maybe a changeling? Some of the older ones could take on the form of an animal.”

  “I don’t know.” Casteel swallowed, shaken as he stared at the creature. “But we…we have to keep going.”

  “What?” I spun toward him. “We can’t leave him.”

  “We have to, Poppy.” He clasped my arms. “You see what kind of bars they are?” he asked, and I looked again, my stomach hollowing. “They’re bone, and I doubt they’re the bones of a mortal. Your abilities won’t work on them, and we’re not going to be able to break through them without causing a shit ton of noise.”

  “But—”

  “And even if we did, what would we do with him?” Casteel asked, his eyes searching mine. He took a breath, lifting his hands to clasp my cheeks. “Listen to me. I know you don’t want to leave him here. Neither do I. But there is nothing we can do right now.”

  “He’s right,” Kieran said, glancing back out into the hall. “We’re not abandoning him.”

  “We’re not?” I questioned.

  “We know he’s here. We’ll ask for his freedom,” Casteel explained. “That becomes a part of our deal.”

  “That…that is a smart idea,” I said, glancing at the cat. His eyes were closed, and his sides rose and fell rapidly.

  “That’s because I’m smart.” Casteel dipped his head, kissing my brow. “I love your compassion, Poppy,” he whispered. “I really do. But we must continue.”

  Heart sinking, I nodded as I stared at the creature. “We’ll be back,” I promised him, unsure if he could understand what I said or if he was even aware that we were still there.

  It took everything in me to leave the room, the man’s intense stare taking up space in my mind. I didn’t think he was a wivern or a changeling, because why would the bones of a deity be needed to cage one of them?

  Surely that couldn’t be… “Could Malec change forms?” I asked as we entered a narrow stairwell.

  “No,” Casteel answered from in front of me. “I know what you’re thinking. That’s not him. He was not the kind of deity that could shift forms.”

  Somehow, that didn’t relieve me as it should. We rounded a bend in the stairs, and Casteel opened the door slowly. “Clear,” he murmured.

  We stepped out into the first floor of the castle, in a back hall. Based on the bare walls and minimal lighting, I’d bet only the servants ever used it. Quietly, we made our way toward the end of the hall where a crimson banner hung with the Royal Crest in gold. We were a few feet from the opening when Casteel cursed low and grasped my hand, hauling me behind him as he stepped forward, withdrawing a sword.

  A figure stepped into the opening, coming to stand in front of the banner—a young woman with midnight hair combed back from her face and into one thick braid. Lacy black material covered her arms, upper chest, and neck, the cloth transparent except for the thicker material that ran through the lace like vines. Her tunic was fitted to her chest and stomach and flared out at her rounded hips. There were slits on either side, revealing black pants and boots that laced up to her knees.

  She was no servant. If the clothing hadn’t given that fact away, the crescent-shaped blades she held at her sides would have—blades the s
hiny black of shadowstone.

  It was also the mask painted—or inked—in a deep reddish-black. A disguise that obscured most of her features as it traveled above her eyebrows, reaching her hair, and then swept below her eyes—eyes that were such an unbelievably pale shade of silver-blue, they appeared nearly leached of color—before stretching nearly to her jaw on either side. Wings. The mask looked like the wings of a bird of prey across the olive skin of her face.

  Was she a…a Handmaiden? I wasn’t sure, but I knew she was no vampry. She had emotions. I could feel them behind thick mental walls.

  “Hello,” she said rather politely. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  I reached for the wolven dagger as Delano shot forward, thrusting out with his bloodstone sword—

  The young woman was ungodly quick, a blur of lacy black and deep crimson as she spun under Delano’s arm, snapping up to trap his arm between hers and his body as she twisted, hooking one leg around his waist. She spun again, forcing his body to turn away from her. Within a heartbeat, she had one crescent-shaped blade under his chin and the other pressed against his stomach.

  None of us moved.

  I think we were all a bit stunned by what we had just witnessed.

  “Let him go,” Casteel spoke in that powerful, commanding voice, the one that compelled a response. “Now.”

  She looked at him. “I will when I’m good and ready.”

  Shock flickered through Casteel and me. This woman wasn’t susceptible to compulsion. My heart turned over heavily.

  “Now, I was ordered to not shed blood unnecessarily, something I admit I have a tiny bad habit of doing,” she told us, looking up at the hardened lines of Delano’s face as he strained against her, unable to break free of her grip—the hold of a painted woman who had to be several inches shorter than me. She held Delano in place while standing on the tips of her toes. “So, please do not even think about shifting and forcing me to make bloodshed an unfortunately necessary thing.”