The city was built into the side of a rugged gray mountain. There were no trees — nothing but rock and stone as far as the eye could see. The sun had already fallen beyond the horizon, so lanterns lit the dark buildings that spiraled all the way up to the top of the mountain. At the peak sat a castle made of blackened stone, more a fortress than a palace.
Kiva’s insides knotted as they approached a fortified wall enclosing the city, easily thrice the size of Zalindov’s limestone perimeter in both height and depth. There were no gates — the entrance to the capital was carved into the wall, which opened slowly like a giant stone doorway once the soldiers on duty approved them for entry.
Goose bumps broke out on Kiva’s skin as the carriage trundled over jagged cobblestone paths, winding ever upward toward the imposing castle. She tried to look out the window, but it was difficult to see much in the darkness, with the buildings blurring together and any people out braving the bitter cold having the hoods of their thick cloaks raised to cover their heads. If this was summer in Mirraven, Kiva didn’t want to imagine how miserable their winter months must be. She ran her fingers over the travel clothes she’d been given soon after leaving Zalindov — a belted forest green tunic, brown trousers, and a pair of lined boots — and found herself grateful that her guards, surly and silent as they were, had made sure to give her warm blankets each night. Relatively speaking, they’d taken good care of her — much better than anything she would have experienced at Zalindov.
Kiva’s heart gave a pang at the thought of Cresta still locked away, but she reminded herself that the ex-quarrier had survived five long years, and she would survive a while longer. After the time they’d spent together, she also had to hope that Cresta would believe Kiva would come back for her — that she’d know Kiva owed her that much and would fulfill that debt as soon as she could.
Pushing the redhead from her mind, Kiva grew alert when the carriage reached the highest part of the city and began to slow. She briefly considered throwing herself out the door and making a run for it — surely that had to be better than facing her sister and her soon-to-be brother-in-law — but one look at the keen-eyed woman sitting opposite her, and she knew such an act would be futile.
Kiva gathered her courage as they rode across a stone drawbridge — how they’d dug a moat into the mountain, she didn’t know — and made sure to keep breathing as steadily as possible. Whatever her sister might say to defend herself, nothing could excuse her actions. Kiva would not yield — and she would not forgive. Not unless Zuleeka was willing to give up her stolen crown. And Kiva already knew that was never going to happen.
The carriage finally drew to a halt after passing through two sets of iron gates, stopping at the base of a granite staircase that led up into the castle entrance. Someone stood at the top of the steps, backlit by the strong luminium lights bleeding out into the night, making their face unidentifiable. Their figure, however, was female, causing Kiva’s breath to hitch, but then they moved closer and she could see that it wasn’t her sister, allowing her racing heartbeat to settle again.
I’m not ready for this, Kiva thought, having no idea how she was going to handle seeing Zuleeka after everything her sister had done.
The betrayal.
The death magic.
The angeldust.
The imprisonment.
It was too much.
And yet, I have no choice, Kiva realized, pulling herself together as the female guard opened the carriage door and pushed her out into the cold.
Kiva tripped down the steps and threw a glare at the woman, who ignored her and signaled to the two drivers, plus the other soldiers who had accompanied them on horseback for the journey. After quick nods, the Mirraven escorts continued deeper into the castle grounds, likely seeking the stable complex or barracks.
Now that Kiva was closer, she could see that the land around her was surprisingly flat, as if an ancient god had sliced a blade across the peak, establishing the foundation for a castle with expansive grounds sitting like a crown above the city. If not for her absolute dread, Kiva would have been fascinated and desperate to explore. Instead, nervous sweat broke out on her skin despite the frigid air, the feeling growing when the female guard shoved her toward the staircase.
The woman who had come to greet them had silver hair coifed in a low bun and heavily wrinkled skin. She wore a black dress with a blood-red apron tied around her waist, her expression saying there were a million other things she would rather be doing.
Kiva stepped forward — partially pushed by the guard again — and said, “Um, hello, I’m Kiva Mer — er, Corentine. Is my sister —”
“I’m Madam Merit, head of housekeeping,” the silver-haired woman interrupted. Her voice was lightly accented, her speech trim and formal. “Welcome to Blackmount Castle.”
Despite her words, there was nothing warm about Madam Merit’s greeting.
“Thank you,” Kiva said, haltingly. “Could you please tell me —”
“If you’ll kindly follow me,” Madam Merit cut her off again, “we’ll get you cleaned up and ready for presentation to His Majesty. No doubt you’re weary from your travels, but he has a busy schedule and wishes to see you before you turn in for the night.”
Kiva’s blood chilled at the thought of meeting King Navok so soon. She’d hoped to at least talk with her sister first. “I’m sorry, but is Zuleeka —”
“This way, please,” Madam Merit spoke over her, turning and gliding up the staircase into the castle.
Kiva watched, frozen in place, until the female guard said, “You can’t leave the grounds without an escort — you’ll be struck down before you set foot on the drawbridge. That leaves you with two options: you can follow Merit, or I can drag you after her.”
Throwing her an annoyed look, Kiva hurried up the stairs after the housekeeper, noting that the guard didn’t follow. Her threat about the drawbridge must have been real if Kiva no longer needed a babysitter. She might as well have been back in Zalindov, a prisoner once more.
Disheartened, Kiva quickly caught up to Madam Merit and kept a brisk pace with her through the building’s dark interior. Where Vallenia’s River Palace was full of light, with white marble floors and gold trimmings, Blackmount Castle was carved out of obsidian, with silvery luminium threaded into the walls to create an eerie effect, especially with the suits of armor interspersed between the scarlet tapestries and floor runners. It was beautiful — but in an unnerving, haunting way.
Kiva followed Madam Merit up black staircases with silver balustrades and along corridors with artwork depicting gruesome battle scenes. When they finally came to a halt in front of an ornate door, she was hugging her elbows, the ominous feeling of her surroundings bleeding into her soul.
The housekeeper opened the door and ushered Kiva inside, revealing a luxurious bedroom in shades of black and crimson with silver highlights, the colors identical to what Kiva had seen in the rest of the castle. A large bed piled high with cushions sat against one wall, and a luminium chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, casting a welcoming glow around the otherwise dark space. There was no balcony, but heavy scarlet curtains were drawn over three sizable windows. Kiva hoped they’d offer a view down the mountain across the city, and she was eager to investigate — but later.