On the far side, Declan pushes open a heavy wooden door, smooth and polished from generations of hands touching it. There are metal studs all over its surface and an old-fashioned latch mechanism that appears still fully functional. And then I’m following him down a short, cool corridor, and the smell of food grows stronger with every step. My stomach growls.
‘Be careful with the Seven,Gléigeal. Some of us have been here for a very long time and we’ve seen no women here but you.’
‘You never have women here?’
‘Only the Hunters can come here.’
‘Why? Isn’t that a bit of a contradiction?’
‘One might think so,’ he says. Then laughs. ‘Do you argue over everything?’
‘Mostly,’ I say. ‘I’m training to be a lawyer.’
‘Then you should understand the contradiction. The Hunters do their job for the Court, but if any of the accused reach here and claim sanctuary, then it is up to the Hunters to ensure they are protected until they are ready to face the Court.’
‘You make them sound almost noble.’
‘It may not follow human standards, but yes, the Huntsman is a noble man. Far more so than our current king.’ He shrugs. ‘But be careful. We are all guilty of something here. Well, most of us, at least– even if that is simply pissing off the Rialis.’
‘Guilty of what?’
‘Many of us here have killed,Gléigeal. These are not men to be trifled with.’
‘What about Matt? Why is he here? Rose thinks he’s dead.’
Declan frowns a little, then tilts his head to one side. ‘You don’t know?’
I shake my head. ‘I just heard that he died. I didn’t… I didn’t ask Rose too much about it, she was too upset.’
‘Matt killed Christopher Riali.’
‘What? No.’
Declan pushes open the door to the refectory, and several more monks follow us into the room, all of them moving almost silently. They move past us, their heads covered by the hoods of their robes, leaving their faces in shadow.
‘We have a visitor?’ one says, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.
‘Yes, Brother Salvatore, this is Niamh,’ Declan tells him.
‘Niamh? That doesn’t sound like a prostitute’s name.’
My breath catches, and I cough.
‘Sal—’ The warning is clear in Declan’s tone, but Sal ignores it and takes a step towards me, reaching out to touch my hair.
At that, I turn and run straight into another hooded figure standing in the doorway. I didn’t even hear him coming. He flips back his hood, and I look up into Declan’s face and scream.
‘Going somewhere?’ he asks. ‘I don’t think that’s allowed.’
How can Declan be standing in front of me, blocking the exit? I turn, and sure enough, there he is, behind me. I turn back.
‘Let her go, Lachlan,’ Declan says, sighing. ‘Niamh, this is my twin brother. Lachlan, meet Niamh. Cillian Hunter sent her here. I’d say touch her and die, but in all honesty, I think you’d be more likely to find yourself in Cillian’s basement being tortured for all eternity if you dare to.’
‘She’s Cillian’s?’ Lachlan asks, and I notice that Sal, too, looks a little less cocky.
‘I don’t belong to any—’ I begin, but Declan cuts me off.
‘You’d better hope you do, Niamh. You have a much better chance of surviving this place if you belong to him than if you don’t. Believe me.’
