He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. At least his beast had a grip on things.
When was the last time he’d prayed? Was it standing beside his father’s grave? He remembered the blue of the sky, his mother’s dress floating in the soft breeze….
Something scraped again, and he pushed himself up the wall, determined to stand.
Something rattled—the bolt that locked the crypt door perhaps—echoing in the silent tomb, and then a sudden draft of fresh air raised the hair on the back of his neck.
He was already fully battle scaled, but for some reason, his beast only flickered as a small pool of light appeared in the doorway. And then a quiet voice whispered, “Who’s there?”
Mathos let out a soft breath of surprise. He couldn’t be certain, but he thought he knew that voice. “Apple pip?” he asked softly, not wanting to get an innocent child in trouble if he was wrong.
There was a moment of silence, and then the young girl stepped into the crypt, bringing her candle with her.
The rush of relief and hope flooding through him nearly brought Mathos to his knees. Quickly followed by an even greater terror. This was the worst place in the kingdom for Alis to be found.
He tried to grin, hoping that his battered face wouldn’t terrify her too much. “What are you doing here? It’s not safe for you.”
She took a few steps closer, focused on him. “I saw those men, the soldiers. They were hurting you….”
Damn, she’d seen him on the road. He had always hated Dornar, but knowing she had been watching the soldiers bully him filled him with an even deeper loathing. The Blues used to be heroes. They had protected the innocent. Not terrified small children.
Ballanor had destroyed so much. In less than a year, he’d overturned everything they had stood for. And Dornar was the same. He cared nothing for the people who were hurt in his relentless scheming.
And now he has Lucilla.
Gods.
“I’m sorry, apple pip. You shouldn’t have had to see that.”
She shrugged her thin shoulder. “Seen worse.”
As if that didn’t break his heart.
He smiled, desperately hoping she wouldn’t take it into her head to start looking in the hollows filled with bones and add them to her list of worse things. “Alis, coming here was incredibly brave and kind, but you shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”
She gave him a small, sweet grin. “You shouldn’t be here neither.”
Mathos chuckled. “Well, that depends on who you ask.”
She giggled, a breathy sound of fear and relief, and he was blown away by how much courage it must have taken to walk into the dark shrine, come down the stairs, and open the door to the burial chamber.
And now it was up to him to get her out safely. “Where are the guards?” he asked gently.
“Playing cards outside. They were too scared to stay inside the shrine. They’re even doing their rounds in pairs.” She lifted her eyebrows in derision at the cowardice of adults.
“And you weren’t? Scared, I mean.”
She shook her head slightly, her fist clenched around the candle in a way that spoke to him, all the way down to his soul. She had been scared, but she wasn’t going to show it. She had stood up and done what she felt needed to be done. “No one dead ever bothered me before. No one alive ever tried to help me before. Other than you.”
Gods. “Where’s your mam and dad?”
“Dad’s dead. Mam’s… busy.” She shrugged again. “I look after myself.”
He liked this feisty little girl. And admired her more than nearly all the adults he’d ever met. He dipped his chin toward her. “Thank you, Alis. And now we need to get out as quick as we can.”
He lifted his hands so that she could see the chain and pointed up to the ring high on the wall. “Do you think you can unhook it?”
“Yup.” She put the candle down on the ground and unfurled her wings before jumping up to the hoop.
