The chamber is falling.She hoped it would crush Corvin beneath its weight. She wished it could have crushed Kent and Silas and all the rest too, but nothing for her was ever that simple.
The labyrinth stretched and curved. They passed multiple doors, but Shaw didn’t slow and so she didn’t either and finally, there was the end—the steep staircase—and they needed only to run up it, through the foyer, and out of Mothlock for good.
Two of those things, they accomplished. But outside Mothlock—
Outside were the dead.
Chapter fifty-three
Thefirstbodytheycame upon tripped Aline and nearly Lux. The newest collector, Tobias. His grey skin was pockmarked with wounds, and he lay draped across the steps. Lux’s hand fell away from her cheek.
“Devil’s…” she trailed, the cacophony overcoming her.
Of shouts, caws, and shrieks.
The crows. They filled the night sky, nearly blocking the moon. And beneath them, in the courtyard, were a mess of silks, suits, and robes.
Some of those were still alive.
Several dove for cover on the garden paths and were immediately latched onto by stems with sharp teeth. Others ran for the gate, clinging to the iron. A single investor attempted to climb; his waistcoat caught on a spire and would not release. None, she noted, were left undisturbed for long.
Meanwhile, robed collectors protected their heads. Using what brilliances they’d harvested, they fought against thecreatures bombarding them. Except, what the crows lacked in enchantments, they made up for in numbers and tenacity. They would not be deterred—and the Society of Saints was clearly in peril.
“Why would they come out here?” wondered Lux. “Why don’t they hide inside?”
“Because the ground remembers the Grimrooks, and the Grimrooks have returned. The society is no longer safe, inside or out. Look at them. Cowards, the lot, trying to run.”
Lux whirled to Riselda standing in the doorframe, perfect and poised in an indigo gown, a soft smile on her mouth as she absorbed the waste laid around her.
“Look at the garden, Lucena. It’s blooming.”
Lux obeyed, glancing toward the graveyard, to the brambles rising high and arching over the path. The investor and councilman, Ulysses Morrigan, broke free from the birds to barrel down the darkened lane. A stem of teeth found him fast.
Over his scream, Riselda said, “And the vines. Such an exceptional, hardy breed.”
Those Lux did not bother with. She whipped back to Riselda. “Where have you been? We’ve nearly died several times over.”
“I’ve been doing all of this, darling. Awakening the estate. It’d nearly forgotten the touch of a Grimrook, it’s been so long. Are you not happy? I did it for you.” She leaned away as a crow drew close with its claws. “The birds don’t like me much anymore, but—”
Riselda cut off her thought when Lux shied from beating wings. Then a rather heavy weight. A beady, black eye drifted in front of her face to examine her.
“Hello, Crow,” she said. “You’ve been busy.”
The animal inclined its head as if pleased she finally understood both their purposes. For once, it didn’t peck her, though its claws did dig deep.
“Who’s that?” Lux asked. “There’s light outside the gate.”
“Our reinforcements.” Aline eyed the birds with unease. Her fingers wrapped around an orb with thick spikes. Lux had seen a similar invention of the girl’s before, and so she became immediately suspicious.
“Reinforcements?” questioned Shaw, setting down his heavy cargo. “Who did you befriend on your absurd journey across the country?”
Aline’s eyes narrowed on him. “Cecily.”
“Cecily?” Lux startled the crow with her sudden movement, and the bird took flight with an irritated cry. “She’s safe?”
“She was the last person we found. Me and the bandits and an old man, along with a few folks from the weird tree town.” Aline squinted into the night. “There are quite a few torches out there now.”
“Then we should—”
