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When the sun’s position in the sky told me it was midday, I headed to the front gate. Since arriving, I’d only left for Rebecca’s punishment at William’s insistence. That night there had been eight of us, nine if you counted Rebecca.

Now it was just me. Curious looks followed, but no one stopped me. Bruce was nowhere to be seen, and it wasn’t like a man of his size could hide. Gerard stood at the gate in Bruce’s stead. He shrugged when I asked about the other man’s absence. He opened the gate without argument to leave me outside, truly alone for the first time in weeks.

As the minutes ticked by with no sign of William, I considered whether this could be it. It was possible he’d seen through my machinations and reasoned that the easiest way to rid himself of me was to pretend to go along with my plans, shepherd me out of the gate, and then simply refuse to let me set foot back inside.

The sun burned, the heavy robe stifling. One way or another, I’d get to take the damn thing off today. The question was whether it would be with the reek of failure hanging over me, or the far sweeter scent of victory.

The wait reminded me of my first day here. I waited. And waited. Finally, the gate creaked open, and William stepped out. Alone. No guards. No Bruce.

William being that naïve almost disappointed me. Which was silly when that’s exactly what I’d been working toward for weeks: him trusting me enough to put himself in a previously inconceivable situation.

“Ready?” I asked.

William nodded. “Ready.”

He had a resolve about him that made me ponder what he thought might happen when we got there. Was he armed? Just because I’d never seen him with a weapon didn’t mean he didn’t have one. There were few people in this world who didn’t carry something. Even children had knives from an early age.

Halfway down the cliff, I glanced back. We were definitely alone, the castle gate remaining shut, and no one following. Relief loosened something in my chest. Whatever weapon William might carry, he stood no chance against two of us.

William didn’t speak, and I was happy to follow his lead. Three quarters of the way down, I conjured another vision. “I know where to go,” I said after. “The Lord has shown me where this man hides.”

“Show me,” William said.

Lagging a couple of paces behind gave me the luxury of smiling without him being able to see.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Keaton

As luck would have it, I saw them coming, something making me pause and look up just as I was about to set off on my daily mission of killing biters. I couldn’t tell who it was straightaway, the distance too far. But once I saw the red robe, it became obvious. Only one man considered himself special enough to need to stand out. His companion took longer to identify, wanting it to be August not enough to make it so, and I stood there until I was certain.

Once I knew, I immediately fell back to the tunnel, trepidation and anger swirling in my chest as I paced the small space. This was it. August was going to bring him right to me, and I was going to kill the bastard. Would I do it slow as I’d always planned? Tie him up and torture him so he’d really feel it? Or would I do it fast? Did he deserve that?

Not knowing how I might do it was telling. I’d talked a good game, but I hadn’t truly believed we’d reach this point. It had been a dream. Something to focus my mind on. A cause worth dying for. Then August had come along—though you could argue I’d erupted into his life, rather than the other way round, and he’d taken dying out of the equation. Now, I had this, and the promise of a future.

The bees were loud. Louder than they’d ever been, buzzing and jostling for space in my skull. Everything would become clear when I stood face to face with him. How could it not? And if it didn’t, well… then I had August for backup.

Seconds stretched like hours, minutes like entire millennia, my auditory focus fixed on the door a few rooms away. It always creaked when it opened, so there was no way of not hearing them. My heart pounded, and sweat broke out on my forehead. I wiped it away and told myself to calm down. I wanted to be made of rock when I faced William Anderson. Or if not rock, ice. A cool customer. An assassin. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.

I forced myself to breathe slowly, to remember it hadn’t been that long since I’d been a soldier with all the training that entailed. It worked: my heart slowed, the sweat dried, and by the time the creak came I was ready.

I stood in the middle of the room as the footsteps came closer, fingers wrapped around the handle of my knife, holding it out of sight behind my thigh. It wasn’t time for me to reveal I was armed yet.

The door swung open, and they both stepped inside. August immediately moved over to the far wall. “This is the man,” he said. “The one who has meddled.”

I didn’t look at August, following his lead in pretending we didn’t know each other. Instead, I stared at the bastard, able to examine him up close for the first time. He looked older than I’d expected. Smaller. As incongruous as it might be, friendlier. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, it would have been hard to believe this man tied defenseless women to a stake and played Russian roulette with their lives under the guise of religion.

I watched him scan the room. What was he looking for? I didn’t have to wait long to find out as his gaze swung back my way. “Where is she?”

“She?”

He turned to August. “You told me the girl was here.”

“What girl?” I asked.

August leaned his head back against the wall, his expression saying he was weighing something up. He’d been right about the robe not suiting him. It drained the color from his face and made him look wan. Or maybe the weeks in the castle had done that to him. I’d make it up to him once this was over. August let out a breath. “William believes you have a blessed girl here.” At my frown, he clarified, “Someone immune.”

“Right,” I said. “I don’t.”