Mentally, I tried to bring up a picture of the entire complex—the central castle, the two sets of outer walls. But the Tower of Bones could be any one of the twenty-one towers.
I needed to know where I was going before I left here. Pivoting, I surveyed the stacks of books that surrounded my bed. I couldn’t read words, but I could manage a map. I snatched my little children’s alphabet book off the table, then crossed to the bed.
In the dimming light, I climbed onto the mattress, and scanned the rows of books.
Some of them had no titles on the sides. Some had words I couldn’t read, others little silver or gold engraved pictures. I traced my fingertip over the spines, looking at them one by one, until I got to a crimson volume with a gold-embossed picture on the side. Four impossibly high towers, stretching upward. Looked like Castle Hades.
I pulled it out and cracked it open, blowing dust off the page. At the start of the book was a map of the entire place. Each tower, each building had been labelled.
It took me a few minutes to figure out the letters I needed to find—but the first letters sounded like a B in ball, and an O like oak, an N like night. And without Sourial here, there was actually something deeply satisfying about decoding the words. I wanted to know how to read all of them, but I would start with Bones.
So I scanned the little map until I found what I was looking for. B O N seemed enough to know I’d got to the right place. There it was—the Tower of Bones, looming over the Dark River. It stretched up into the sky at the end of one of the outer walls.
The map was clearly old, because it showed twenty-three towers. It seemed at one point, the river had been narrower, but the waters had consumed two of the towers in the distant past.
Unfortunately, I’d have to go outside the castle to investigate. And while I didn’t love the idea of having to cross out into the courtyard in the open, tonight was probably the best night to do it. Clouds completely hid the moon and stars, giving wonderful darkness. Tonight of all nights, it would be easy to go unnoticed.
The hard part would be getting out of this castle, with the soldiers guarding the front door. My best bet would be to sneak down to the lowest level, then scale the wall from a secluded window.
Dovren was a city of walls, especially around the East End. In the ancient days, when the Blessed Raven King had ruled the kingdom, he’d set up enormous stone boundaries around the city to keep out invaders. Soldiers had protected Dovren from the towers in the walls. And while much of the walls had crumbled into ruins, in many places the towers still stretched to the skies.
Some of the rich built great homes against the ancient stone. So if you knew how to scale it, you could nip in to pinch a few silver spoons or fancy bits of china. If you were that sort of a person.
Long story short, I was good at climbing stone.
I slid the book back onto the shelf, then plucked a long candle from the table, along with a little box of matches. I slipped them into my pocket.
And as for my dagger, I sheathed it around my thigh.
Given that they hadn’t provided me with knickers and I was wearing a long dress, I’d absolutely need to murder anyone who saw me getting the dagger out.
With everything ready, I crossed to the door. I turned the knob, opening it just a little. Instantly, a smile came to my lips. The nightshade had worked, and the two guards lay slumped against the wall. I dumped out the rest of the wine on them, and I left the empty bottle between them. Now, they looked like a pair of wine-soaked drunks.
I glanced down the hall, left, then right. Nothing but shadows and stone.
Now or never.
I hurried to the stairwell and rushed down the stairs, one hand on the wall to steady myself as I took one turn after another. When I got to the first floor, I poked my head out.
I found myself in the armory—a large wooden hall with beams of oak arching above me. Most importantly, it had a window I could use.
I crept through the room, swift and stealthy.
Orange light flickered over the displays of swords, axes, the old armor hanging on the walls. I jumped when I saw movement in the corner of my eye, then realized it was my own reflection. Mirrors hung behind some of the suits of armor, making the room look bigger than it was.
I opened the window outward, pulled myself up, then swung one of my legs over. For a moment, my foot got caught in the hem of my long dress, but I was able to disentangle myself. That was exactly why I normally wore trousers.
As I lowered myself down, I found a toe hold. It wasn’t much, just a little crack between the stones, but I could use it. Once I was out the window, I closed it nearly all the way. From there, I found small cracks, spaces in the stones where I could grip with my fingers and rest my toes. I only needed to go down a few feet or so until I could jump.
I landed with a soft thud in the grass, and I breathed in deeply.
The rain had gone softer now, but clouds still covered the sky. I loved being out here in the night, where I felt free. As I hurried over the grass, my eyes picked out the darkest route.
When I reached the Tower of Bones, I looked up at it. Numerous royals had been murdered in this very tower. Long ago a king had kept his wives in there, before he grew bored with them and cut off their heads.
But it had first been named for a tragedy a thousand years ago, when a mad king slaughtered two princes and stuffed their bodies under a stairwell. The evil pretender king from the west had wanted to clear his own way to the throne.
Ernald said all kings were tyrants. Alice would say, at least they were our tyrants.
And with that thought, I crossed through the damp grass, and slipped into a dark stairwell. Dark and silent as a grave in here. I pressed my ear to the stone, listening for the sound of movement. I didn’t hear a thing.
I pulled the candle from my pocket, along with the matches. I lit the candle, and the little flame cast a wavering glow up the winding staircase
As I moved up the stairs, cold air rushed over me. It smelled of moss and stone. Had Alice climbed this same stairwell once?
I pictured her as Finn had seen her: carrying red silk, her pale hair gleaming. Maybe she’d made it out … She could scale walls as well as I could.
Wind whistled through faint cracks in the walls. I shivered. This was the very stairwell where the dead princes were hidden—somewhere beneath my feet.
Everyone in Dovren said this place was haunted. And right now, it felt like they were right.
19
Lila
On the left side of the hall stood six wooden doors. On the right side, tall windows let in dim light. The rain was picking up again, and a spear of lightning cracked the sky. For a moment, I thought I saw a figure moving across the courtyard. I stood before the window, searching for it. It was gone again in the shadows.
I let out a shaky breath. I thought I’d just imagined someone, fear getting to me.
I turned and opened the first door, revealing a small room. Two sets of bunk beds stood on each side, and an empty hearth was inset into one wall.
Definitely a servant room. Across from the door where I stood, a window looked out over the Dark River. I crossed to it, pressing my hands against the cold panes. The rain rattled the glass. In the storm, the river seemed wild, seething.
From here, I had a perfect view of its serpentine path, flowing from west to east. Bodies dumped from here might have been carried all the way out to the sea.