Ronin guided Cassandra along the bridge as she peered over the edge into the still, glossy water below. Were the large, shadowy masses shifting beneath the surface real, or was she still disoriented from her journey through the mists?
Her stomach grumbled, her missing hunger roaring to life and gnawing at her insides. How long had they been wandering? And where were the other prisoners from the intake tower?
Guilt pierced her chest; they’dleftReena behind. Although, if Cassandra and Ronin had arrived at this city, perhaps Reena had as well?
The faint din of voices grew louder as she and Ronin reached the end of the bridge. A towering wall of obsidian soared above them, and she caught a hint of movement beyond the lowered iron portcullis. Its holes were large enough for a human or Fae to pass through and she wondered why it was lowered.
What were they trying to keep out?
She glanced at those shifting shadows in the moat, then paused to pick up a small pebble. She tossed it over the bridge, and circles rippled out from where it plinked into the water.
Just as the waves flattened, an enormous, reptilian beast with a mottled brown-and-green scaled body burst upward, snapping a long snout full of sharp teeth inches away from the bridge.
“Guess we’re not trying to escape via the moat,” Ronin grumbled as three more beasts surged toward the bridge and laughter rang out above the city wall.
They’d gained an audience.
Spectators gathered on stone balconies and between the old-fashioned buildings. Whether they were Fae or human or a mix of both, Cassandra couldn’t yet tell. Though she did spy a fewpairs of wings, and also saw more color than expected. The prisoners were no longer wearing their gray uniforms.
The portcullis rumbled upward, and a thin male Beastrunner emerged, clapping. He had cropped brown hair and sharp features, all the more weasel-like with his pencil-thin mustache and goatee.
His dark eyes gleamed with amusement, and his nasally tone grated Cassandra’s bones. “My sincerest congratulations on your survival.”
“Are we the only ones who’ve arrived?” Cassandra asked, her heart in her throat at the thought of Reena alone and lost in that terrible emptiness.
The male nodded, pouting. “Even less than usual, I’d say. Remy Wormwood. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He gestured backward as the portcullis clanged to a thunderous halt and the city yawned out behind it.
“Welcome to Tartarus.”
Itwasa city.Cassandra could scarcely believe it as Wormwood led her and Ronin along the cobbled, upward sloping streets that wended toward the castle.
Candles flickered in lead-glass windows and flames danced in cast-iron streetlamps. Most of the timber-framed buildings seemed to be private dwellings. At least until they came upon the main city square halfway up the hill where two taverns occupied opposite corners.
The more opulent of the two bore a sign that read World’s End in filigreed lettering. Red curtains hung in the upper floor windows above a gold-and-black striped awning and golden double doors.
At the south corner, a hand-painted side reading The Other Place hung above a dilapidated tavern. Outside, wearied Fae gathered in quiet conversation at chipped wooden tables. They were mostly Beastrunners and Deathstalkers, but she did see a scant number of Windriders with both feathered and fleshy wings.
What she didn’t see were any humans.
Ronin scanned every face they passed. Searching for Reena? Selene?
Or Mireille?
“Keep up!” Wormwood called from the other end of the square, his whiskers twitching at his cheeks. “I am sure you are anxious to get some food and rest. All will be possible after he has reviewed your sentences.”
Wormwood turned down another cobbled street, moving so quickly that Cassandra didn’t have a chance to take in her surroundings. He sailed around a corner, arriving at a graveled courtyard that led to the castle entrance. It looked much larger than it had from across the bridge, the two spires rising at least ten stories up. Wormwood ushered them through a large archway. “Come, come, my friends! There’s nothing to fear.”
“Bullshit,” Ronin grumbled.
Two obsidian staircases bracketed the soaring foyer, past which she heard the booming, sinister tones of gathered male voices.
Wormwood led them into a throne room trisected by lines of thick black columns. Fae males cloaked in furs and leather filled the hall, armed to the teeth with polished stone weapons hanging from their backs and hips. Tall, iron candelabras bathed the room in pockets of light and shadow, and at the far end, an enormous obsidian throne veined with red polemite sat empty atop a stepped dais.
The Fae warriors—Cassandra wasn’t sure what else to call them; they appeared dressed for war and had an air of authority she hadn’t sensed from the Fae in the streets—stilled as she, Ronin, and Wormwood passed, though they didn’t pause their conversations.
Multiple pairs of eyes crawled over her glimmering white feathers. Reactions to Ronin were mixed, some faces pinched with distaste, while others widened in awe.
Wormwood clapped his hands, seeking the hall’s attention, then arranged Ronin and Cassandra on either side of the aisle.
