“Oh, teh-nes an Nymasi,” Julienna breathed.
The last climb was easier than the first. A sloping path of scree led to the opening, which was more of a trapdoor than a tunnel. Brysney caught my hand and pulled me up before turning to help Julienna and Teo. Anjey wiped the mud and dust from her trousers and moved to my side as we waited for the others. “We’re in the palace now, aren’t we?” she whispered.
I nodded. Family Daired had a mausoleum beneath their ancient fortress; so too did the royal line of Arle. We stood in a long, vaulted gallery. Pillars of white stone marched proudly along the walls until the darkness and distance of the hall swallowed them. Between the pillars, great solemn statues rose from marble plinths, their hands outstretched. Each statue held something. I had to look closer to make it out. Urns.
There was a tug on my skirts and a cool touch on my neck as Tobble swung up onto my shoulder. “The Chamber of Ashes,” he said. “That’s what the others said, at least. All the old dead kings and queens of Arle.”
“I’ve never heard of this place before,” Brysney said.
Grimmelgund gave his hand to the last hobgoblin struggling over the lip of the broken flagstone. “Few humans have, and even fewer should have. My people only stumbled on it by accident. A royal secret so their dead can rest in peace.”
“Do you know how to get to the palace proper from here?” I asked.
“Alas, this is as far as I have ever gone,” the chief said. “I know you must go up, but that’s all. I hoped one of you might know the way.”
The garden-folk turned hopeful eyes toward us. Anjey, Teo, and I looked to Julienna and Brysney. “You two have seen more of the palace than we have,” Anjey said.
Brysney shrugged. “I’ve only seen the public chambers.”
“Julienna?”
She smoothed back the loose strands of her plait from her mud-spattered forehead. “Aunt Catriona’s the Daired who knows the palace. But come on, there’s got to be a door here somewhere.”
There was. With the garden-folk scattering the full length of the hall it didn’t take long to find it. An aisle crossed the middle of the chamber and led to a long stair against the far wall. It was narrow and treacherous without railings or balustrade, and the drop on either side looked very long. My heart sank to see the door at the top: a thick, heavily timbered door reinforced with wrought-iron ornaments, their edges only a little rusty. Brysney tested it cautiously. It would not budge. From behind me Anjey sighed.
“Well, what now?”
“Never fear!”
Tobble leapt down and joined the garden-folk gathered around Brysney’s feet. He said something to them in Low Gnomic, speaking so quickly I only caught the words file and lock. There was a shuffling as two of the half-goblins moved to the front so their salamander’s lights shone directly on the panel in the center of the door. With a “Hup!” another two half-goblins hoisted Tobble onto their shoulders. He flashed us a grin as he extended his tiny hand into the lock.
“Didn’t I tell you that there’s a good reason we’re called an inconvenience, Aliza?” he said at my astonished look. “Now shush, I need to focus.”
His little face screwed up in concentration. The half-goblins wavered beneath him, alternately muttering encouragement and curses as he shifted to get a better hold of the locking mechanism. One of them squealed as Tobble tread on his ear.
“Oi!”
“Sorry!” Tobble said. “Just one more— Aha!”
Pins fell into place with a dull thunk and the door swung open. I scooped Tobble up and set him back on my shoulder as our tiny force poured from the Chamber of Ashes into a dim corridor of the palace proper. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“Careful,” Brysney said before Tobble could answer, and motioned for those still on the stair to stay there. The corridor was empty save for a few lamps at the far end. A utility hallway, no doubt somewhere in the servants’ wing and far away from prying eyes. Still, he moved carefully, checking twice before he waved us out into the passage. I fought off the trembling that seized my legs. We’re here. Against all odds we’d made it into the palace, and now the real danger began.
“Where do we start looking?” Anjey asked.
Brysney motioned to the left-hand turning. “I think the banquet hall is this way.”
Julienna shook her head. “Throne room. That’s where we need to look.”
“What? Why?”
She drew her sword and looked at me. “Think about it. The Silent King knows our dragons are in the city. We got away, so it probably figures we found them and told them what’s happening. It’s not going to keep my family in a room as exposed as the banquet hall.”
“We’ll check everything,” I said. “Dungeons to the Tower of Torches.”
“What about us?” Chief Grimmelgund asked. “My lord, my ladies, we’re yours to command.”
“Help us look, please,” I said, “but do it quietly.”
The chief bowed and signaled to his people. They scampered away, their feet pitter-pattering against the marble floor. I drew my knife.
“Let’s go.”
The atmosphere within the palace was weighted with silent fear. With no servants left to tend them, the lamps set to light the hallways had burned low, and some had gone out altogether, leaving patches of darkness. I lost count of the turnings as Brysney and Julienna steered us through the barren servants’ wing. Hold on, Alastair, I thought. We haven’t abandoned you.
We were passing a curtained gallery when we first heard it, rolling like distant thunder from the opposite side of the palace, the blessed sound of fury and dragonfire. Silverwing had gotten through. The dragons might not be able to get inside, but they would keep the Silent King’s soldiers occupied. I imagined Akarra and Herreki, Mar’esh and their temporary Riders scouring the streets of the First Circle, driving Tekari before them and drawing out the Silent King’s forces from the palace.
Brysney stopped at the end of the gallery and held up a hand. Lights shone beneath the crack of the door, but they were steady and did not move. There was no sound from beyond. “Do we try it?” he whispered. “Or do we go back?”
Julienna unslung the crossbow and handed it to Anjey. Teo shifted behind us, a throwing knife ready in each hand. “Can you see if anyone’s inside?” I asked.
Brysney moved to the door. There was no keyhole, just a simple latch. He knelt and peered through the crack at the floor. “Looks like an antechamber, maybe for the council rooms.”
“Empty?” Anjey whispered.
“I think so. It’s hard to tell from this angle. Weapons ready?”
We nodded. He stood and carefully, noiselessly, lifted the latch. The door swung open on oiled hinges.
It was an antechamber, but not for one of the council rooms. And it was not abandoned. A dozen Vesh sat around a table in the far corner, sorting out piles of heartstones in industrious silence. A pair of guards with crossbows paced behind them, and over them all presided the King of the Langdred Vultures.
One of the Vesh held up a clear blue heartstone with a questioning look.
“Ah, selkie, that one is,” Rookwood said. “Fine specimen, too. You can leave that out of the pile for the master,” he said with an unpleasant chuckle. “We’re entitled to our fee, after all, aren’t we, lads? It won’t even miss—” He stopped suddenly as he caught sight of Brysney. “What the devil? Guards!”