Summer.
That was the instant impression of Tabitha, with a sheen of perspiration glistening on her temples and sea-green eyes as vibrant as the ocean. She seemed to shimmer with a merriment that evoked endless summer days.
There was no time to stop and gaze upon her, but I did. I wandered off the running rug, drawing closer to the oil painting, wanting to see who the artist was. I had a feeling I knew who had painted it before I saw the flourish of a signature in the canvas’s corner.
Valarie Crowther.
An eruption of anger blazed through my veins. I wanted to destroy the painting. To shred it with my fingernails. To gouge a hole right through the layer of glossy paint and canvas with my fist.
I knew deep down that all of this wasn’t Tabitha’s fault. But it was always her or me. It always came down to a choice—Crowther or Wychthorn.
For a dark, twisted moment, I hated Tabitha Crowther with my very essence. She, a mere servant, had inspired this entireHouse, every single family member, and every single servant, to fight for her freedom. And who had I inspired? No one.
I startled, swaying off balance. Sage nudged the back of my knee once more, letting out a low growl to remind me we had no time to loiter.
We darted from the Crowthers’ gallery and ran down servants’ secret passageways and shadowy hallways furnished in various eras, one with Tudor paneling, another with Corinthian columns bracing the ceiling. We slipped to hide behind Renaissance tapestries or shrank behind bushy shrubs flanking amphora wine jars when we heard distant sounds from nearby soldiers until, at last, we reached the end of a narrow hallway that led to the main entrance of the barracks.
I peered stealthily around the corner.
The entryway opened into a large chamber with little inside but a few chairs and battle-scarred flooring. Several corridors and a staircase fed into the space. The barracks weren’t long, narrow buildings in a typical mortal military fashion that housed a collection of guards or servants; they were inside the Keep in an area I guessed had once been the Servants’ Quarters.
Boots stomped across the chamber as several soldiers burst out of the barracks, nets slung over their shoulders. The nets crackled with magic, smoky light pulsing through the knotted fibers. Their leader barked orders, and the group vanished down the corridor opposite the entrance.
Only one guard remained outside the barracks. Young, nervous, pacing in the flickering shadows as the failing lights fizzed overhead. Her fingers anxiously kneaded the hilt of her sword as she became distracted by the noises drifting from the far end of the chamber, where a staircase spiraled down from above. She had the air of a cadet still in training. I nearly rubbed my hands together.Excellent.
I just needed to slip past her and get inside.
Though once in the barracks, I had no idea what I’d find. There was no plan, only to hide as best I could while searching its belly for the armory. With the brunnie rampaging through the Keep, I prayed the weapons hold had been left open for quick access.
Retreating from the hallway corner, I crouched beside Sage. Worry coiled tightly about my bones as I begged him, “Be safe. Don’t let them catch you.”
He quietly huffed, tipping his nose up as if to say I’d offended him. His raspy tongue swiped my cheek. “Ew,”I mouthed, stifling a laugh and scratching beneath his chin. “As soon as you lead her away, head straight to the tower, and don’t come out.” Angling my head toward the corner of the hallway junction, I rose to my feet and whispered, “Good luck, puppy.”
Sage silently trotted back from where we’d come to give himself a run-up to gain speed.
I froze as an unexpected burst of voices jarred through the air. It sounded as if those yelling at one another were at the top of the spiral staircase.
The godsdamned Crowthers!
I covertly peered around the corner to see the guard hurrying to the foot of the stairs. There came a volley of shouting between the brothers. Caidan bellowed,“Godsdammit, it got through!”
“We need to lock down the levels to trap it!”Kenton shouted.
“That’s going to take forever,”Caidan said.
“Do it!”Kenton’s voice roared down the spiral staircase. “Lock down the barracks!”
Panic broke out beneath my skin.
Shit, shit,shit.
“Yes, sir!” came the reply from the guard on duty.
The brothers moved on. Their cursing and shouted orders faded swiftly.
I didn’t know what to do. I’d hoped the brunnie would draw them far from the barracks, not leave the godsdamned placelocked down. Spinning on my heel, I urged my wraith-wolf forward with a flustered hand. “Hurry, Sage, hurry!”
I heard a terrifying noise. A loudclick, and then agrinding.
