The princess knew of our familial bond. She cared for Emi and in turn, during the lonely months spent in her own kingdom, she’d practiced enough she was nearly fluent in my hand speak.
“I’m not certain. Just talk of enemies in the gates,” Yrsa said, voice low. She took hold of my hand. “We ought to be wary, the lot of us.”
When she stepped back, the princess returned my glare with a gentle smile.
Darkwin and Emi insisted the princess return to theprotection of her guards. I turned and unraveled the crushed strip of parchment Yrsa had deftly placed in my hand.
I read the name she’d written in the center. A name of whom she believed to be responsible for opening the gates. It was an accusation she would not want to make openly, but knew if she told me, the Death Bringer would make good on such a reputation.
My blood burned in my veins. Darker edges of my soul sliced to the surface like jagged bits of stone. I was going to do horrid things.
Vicious things.
I could hardly stand the wait.
44
Lyra
Corridors were quiet, and Icould not shake the feeling that something had gone on since dawn came.
I’d expected a meet with the king. Perhaps an order of execution for my head.
Fears I hadn’t shared with Roark. In his arms, for one peaceful night, I’d forgotten to be afraid.
I leaned over the basin in my washroom, studying my features in a gilded mirror.
Glass jars sealed with wooden lids were lined atop a shelf over the wide basin. One of the jars nearly slid from my hands when the golden edge bled with murky black, when sunlight burned in cold, blue skeins through the window.
I drew in a sharp gasp of air, readying to scream, when his dark, billowing reflection stood behind me.
Before I could utter a sound, Skul Drek twisted me against his body, a cold misty hand—or a bit of his darkness—muzzled over my mouth.
“Do not take the bones with the sunrise.” The thick rasp of his voice was different, almost desperate. “Enemies stand on both sides. They will find you, hunt you.” I shuddered against the frosted breath on my skin when he tilted his hooded head near my cheek. “Do not take the bones.”
Ribbons of night slithered off my skin, phantom chills left in their wake, when he pulled away. “What…what bones?”
“Any of them. Every bone the Thief King has found.”
“Damir’s soul bones?”
Skul Drek stepped to the corner of the washroom. He was fading, drifting. Sunlight was returning to warmth.
Whatever craft kept him here, he was allowing it to pull him away.
I held out a hand to stop him. “What do you know? Why are you warning me?”
Darkness encircled me. Cold breathed over my skin, and I was drawn in deeper, like an embrace of shadows. Like the phantom had pulled me close. His burning gaze steadied me. “Your soul is mine. I won’t lose it.”
I didn’t breathe. He believed I belonged to him?
When warmth returned, when darkness retreated, I slumped against the edge of the basin, hardly able to draw a breath. Skul Drek was gone.
A heavy knock sounded on the washroom door.
In a rush, I wiped at my eyes, reorienting myself to reality. The way I could fall into the mirror realm was horrifying and I didn’t understand it.
When I opened the door, my eyes fell on the Sentry.
