If I was destined to be the Lord of Bones’ prisoner, I would be the most hellish one he’d ever had.
“There’s no escape,” another ghostly voice said, this one coming from a mirror fixed to the wall. I paused, turning to look at my reflection. Except it wasn’t mine. The girl from the painting stared back at me with sunken eyes and death-pale skin. An old, festering gash covered her throat, dark blood crusted on the neckline of her once white dress.
I broke out into a full sprint, the thick soles of my boots pounding against the polished floor. No matter what turns I took, I always ended up at that fucking painting.
“Climb out the window.”
I froze in place. This time it was a woman who spoke. I looked down at the letter opener in my hand. “There’s an overgrown hedge that should let you climb down…”
Her voice was as dainty as the blade. It was just like the furniture. Were these lost souls, inhabiting random objects around the castle? As soon as the question formed in my mind, it was pushed away when my gaze found an open window at the end of the hall. I hurried over to the window, running my hand over the sill.
There’d been bars here, judging by the huge holes in the stone where iron grates had been bolted.Why had he taken them down?
My focus shifted outside to the bleak sky covered by a dark storm cloud that grumbled in the distance. The palace sat on the edge of a cliff that overlooked an ocean as black as ink, and a shiver shot through me as I registered the thick bramble attached to the castle facing—just like the knife had said.
One misstep, and I’d plummet to my death…
Steeling my nerves, I stuck the knife into my belt and I climbed out the window, taking hold of the vines. Below was a balcony. I took my time with my descent, checking my footing with each step.
“Let go.”
My blood turned cold at the knife’s instructions. “What?I’ll die!”
The knife said nothing. Whatever soul inhabited it was out of its freaking mind. Shaking my head, I continued on, and when I reached the balcony, I let out the breath I’d been holding.
“Hurry. I feel him coming. Down that hall to your right.” The dagger’s voice started to quake.
It probably wasn’t the best idea to trust it, whatever “it” was. It was insane, that’s what it was. But wandering aimlessly around the castle seemed like a worse plan. I ran through the gaping doorway, taking a right and following the knife’s directions, down several flights of stairs until the air grew damp. “Where are you leading me? Is this the dungeon?”
An uneasy feeling hooked in my belly. This didn’t feel right. I had to turn back. I whipped around, just as the door above the stairs—where I’d come in—opened with a groan. The dim light from the floor above painted the stone wall in the arched shape of the door, with a horned silhouette haloed in light.
“He’s here,” the knife gasped, the feminine voice fraught with fear. “Run!”
I did. I turned and bolted past a wall of barred cells—I ran so fast I didn’t bother looking to see if they were occupied.
“I know you’re in here, little thief. I can taste the pound of your heart on my tongue.”
His heavy footsteps charged after me, falling in line with my pounding pulse.
“The harder thatsweetlittle organ beats, the more excited I get.” His voice was barely more than a growl, laced with hunger and fury that had my heart beating faster than it ever had before.
I had to get away from him. I had to ignore the little voice in the back of my brain telling me he was the safest thing in this place. It was a lie. This hell was designed to fuck with my internal compass on every level.
I rounded a corner, my foot stepping down…onto nothing.
“This is it. This is escape,” the knife said from my belt.
On the next beat, I was plummeting, and I screamed as the hole I fell down swallowed me. The chute was narrow. Cold, lined with stone, and somethingelse. Something evil.
Hands. Countless hands were somehow affixed to the solid stone, grasping at me as I fell and slowing my descent towards whatever pit awaited me below. So many hands on me. Touching me in places they had no right to touch. The hands passed me down the line of appendages, purposefully going slow now so they all had time to grope me.
I threw my head back to see the mouth of the hole above, bile burning the back of my throat. The little square of light was so small now.
I was falling deep into the darkness, maybe into a lower level of Hell. Was this what the knife meant by escape? I wouldn’t be leaving Hell, but I would be escaping the Lord of Bones.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I’d drop faster. I wanted this to be over.
The hands were greedy, their cold and clammy skin stroking over mine and leaving goosebumps in the wake of their touch. The deeper I fell, the crueler the hands became.
