“Damn right he doesn’t.He won’t even feel me coming.”
“For Teo.”
“For Teo.Always for Teo.”
Chapter21
A Darkness with No Discernible End
Unlike Lev, Baz was wise enough not to call Mauldrene a cunt aloud.But hethoughtit plenty.Many times a day, in fact, every miserable day they were trapped inside this castle they had no reason to be at except that his father had ordered it.
Though Baz and his companions—save Félix, who had yet to return from his mission—flew onto Ombrash Island on the backs of their shädreads like they usually did, Mauldrene reacted as if she were under attack.
What … a … cunt.
The fog that surrounded the castle surged upward, stretching for them like the clawed hand of Death, while lightning crackled and snapped in flashes of violet that electrified every part of his body, making his hair stand on end.
Already an inexplicable dread afflicted him.Mauldrene was only making it worse.He couldn’t shake the sense that something was coming, and whatever it was intended to upend his world.
He had to prepare.But for what?Or for whom?
The only person who could arrive without notice was his father.Could be his mother too.Either of them would ruin the fragile peace he’d found here.Yes, he had to endure Mauldrene’s daily tantrums.And also yes, the castle was so cold that it seeped into his bones, no matter how many fireplaces they got roaring.He and his friends would have preferred to sleep in the wilds beneath an open sky—a hundred times over—than within these frigid, cloying walls that somehow closed in on them without moving.But at least here they didn’t have to hurt anybody.He wasn’t adding faces to the thousands upon thousands that already haunted his dreams—one of many reasons he rarely slept well, and hadn’t for a very long time.
Below, shadows swirled and climbed Mauldrene’s somber gray stone, tinting them so dark they could rival the abyss.Those same shadows crawled along the floors and ceilings so that there was no escaping the castle’s haunting gloom, made worse by the fact that Baz wasn’t certain they weren’t somehow sentient.There was some undefinable quality about them that reminded him of creatures, perhaps even of people, in the way they moved, like trees swaying, but sometimes striking out like an enraged serpunta; or how they stilled suddenly when Baz or the others spoke in hushed whispers, as if to eavesdrop—the way their attention pricked along his skin as if the shadows themselves had eyes that trailed his every move.
Never once in six months had the Bazrian Seven experienced a reprieve from the maudlin mood on Ombrash Island.The shadows followed them even to the castle’s outbuildings, where they tangled with the shadows that climbed from the abyss, as if they spawned from a single, terrible source.
Inside was always as dark as night.Mauldrene did have windows, but the fog prevented sunlight from entering.Lumoons glowed continuously to illuminate her many rooms, but were never enough to dispel a single shadow.
Lev sidled up to Baz, joining him in surveying the dining room.Much like Baz, Lev crossed his arms and frowned at the scene unfolding before them, the one they—the castle’s actual residents—weren’t part of.
“Can you believe this shit?”Lev said.“’Cause I can’t believe this shit.I knew she was a…” He glanced at Baz with a pointed look that said,A you know what.“But this?That she’d do this for them and never for us?By the Ethers, I’m gonna take this dragonshit personally.”
The dining room was ample enough for a king and queen to host a hundred guests.Dozens of lumoons glowed so brightly throughout the room it was as if the sun shone indoors.Music enlivened the atmosphere, the same combination of violin, viola, and cello that often played from nowhere Baz was ever able to pinpoint, as if it seeped from the walls.Usually, the music was slow and keening, as if the trio wept with each slice of bow against strings.Never before had the tune been … joyous.A jaunt.Never had it inclined Baz to dance rather than cry.
Food—so much food—was splayed across the hall’s long table in a riot of glossy color.There was fruit of all sorts, bread that smelled freshly baked, and a greater variety of cheeses than he’d ever seen in his life.There were soups in shiny silver tureens; crystalline pitchers beaming with their contents, in hues of violets, pinks, and yellows, some with effervescence bubbling to their surfaces; frosted confits; pastries drizzled with sugar crystals and rich chocolate; meringues artfully arranged in towers; marzipan shaped like a menagerie of woodland creatures—only the pleasant ones, none that would kill a wanderer just for straying.
Not even the emperor, with his endless riches, put out spreads like this.
Around the table, seated on low benches, the whores and feeders, with the young girl and Crute in their midst, were eating and drinking and laughing.Their smiles were wide, their cheeks pink.All concern about the Abysmal Fortress and the pall it cast over Galmeen and beyond appeared popped like a bubble in a pitcher of sunrise spirits.
“Scorch it.I’m crashing the damn party,” Lev said, but then remained where he was.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Moncho said from where he stood beside the wall, casting wary looks to the shadows at his back, to the party, to the archway, probably considering a fast getaway.
Beside him stood Night, Zi, and Ed—still no Félix.
“You know you can’t trust Mauldrene,” Moncho said.
“I know,” Lev said on a whine.“But look at all that food!I’m salivating.”
Zitsked.“You are not.”
“Am too.It smells fucking delicious.”
“Such a drama whore.You don’t need food to survive.”
Lev whipped his head around toward her.“Who said anything about survival?Aren’t we allowed to have a little pleasure around here?”
