His gaze roved over her face. “Let’s see if this path has really fallen away or not.”
Narrow, weather worn stone seemed to sheer sharply from the ridge. Ahead, Lux could see a bridge connecting their broken road to Grimrook House’s garden. Her jaw clenched.
Shaw’s sudden throw saw a rock landing perfectly suspended in air. “Looks like an illusion.”
Lux sucked at her teeth. “It looks like the bridge outside Ghadra.”
Chapter thirty-seven
Thestepsdowntothe cove had been more precarious than this, and factoring Shaw’s steadiness and her shorter skirt, Lux felt nearly safe moving along it. Her uneasiness, however, couldn’t be cured.
The bridge loomed before her.
It was like the other in that it was stacked stone and arched. But now that she stood at its end, she could see its cracks weren’t crawling with moss, fog was not curling over its sides, and the garden beyond it did not whisper her name and hide several breeds of monster. Now that she was here, she realized instead of like Ghadra’s, it looked as all bridges were meant to look.
Lux’s gaze dipped through the narrow break in the cliff all the way down to the churning water below. Then she stepped onto the bridge.
“This is uncomfortable.” Shaw peered over its side and straightened with a palm pressed to his mouth.
“No spiders. No high places,” she said.
“And no weak tea,” he added, lowering his hand.
“I was listing your fears.”
“I do fear that,” he replied, and with several long strides, hurried across the bridge.
But Lux paused partway. There was no gate at its end. There was, however, a garden wall. Waist-height, it matched the bridge and the house both, and in place of a gate, there were instead small pillars and a clear opening.
It invited her in.
She glanced all around. Could it be so simple?
The manor’s tower loomed from its cliff. With the clouds dispersed, cool light lit the peak and transformed it from shining onyx to glistening silver. She looked for the yellow glow of candlelight but found none. Mothlock’s monsters had entered their cursed sleep.
“This garden seems to have been tended to once.” Lux shifted and found Shaw bent over crimson roses. Cradling a bloom between two fingers, he raised it to his nose. “There are paths cut through it and none of those saintforsaken statues.”
“If Riselda’s family was anything like her, then they also loved growing things. But not always for good, so I’d be careful what you sniff.”
Shaw pulled away from the roses. A softsnapsounded between them. He held a long-stemmed bloom toward her, and Lux looked from the flower to him. To his slight smile.
“The thorns seem normal enough, but I would mind them anyway,” he said.
She plucked the rose from his hand. “We don’t have time for flower-picking, Shaw.” But she inhaled its scent, and his smile grew.
“Look at that.” Shaw snagged her corset. He dragged her to him, and only when the barest breadth was left between them did he say, “Thought this looked familiar.”
Lux’s skin flamed as he pulled the concealed knife from her clothing. When its blade caught the moonlight, she snatched it from him.
“You wouldn’tdare,” she said.
He clicked his tongue. “Trade you.” He reached into the sheath at his belt and withdrew a black-handled dagger.
Lux turned his over, the worn, brown handle scraping lightly across her palm. She looked up. “Honest? I’ve gotten rather attached.”
Shaw snorted, lifting her dagger to tap her twice beneath the chin. He flipped it after, so that the handle was presented to her, and she took it—along with all its memories.
Unwilling though she was, she offered his weathered one in exchange.We meet again, you foul gallowblade.Her lip curled.Hopefully you can protect me from other vengeful things.
