I crossed to the fireplace and threw the drawing in, watching as it burned.
More than anything, I wanted to talk to Finn in person. I wanted to know what else he knew. Had he heard about Alice specifically? Did he know if she’d died? I rushed to find my cloak.
Not only did I have questions to ask Finn, but I wanted to get a message to the Free Men. Someone needed to warn them.
For the second time that night, I snuck through the dark passage. I wasn't going to wait another day, for the angels to get the upper hand. And soon, I was sure, the sun would be rising.
I’d find Finn at the music hall. He’d be able to get a message to the Free Men, find out more about the servants. With my cloak wrapped around me, once again I found myself sneaking through the armory in the cover of night. This time, I found it dark and quiet. I pulled open the window at the far end, and started climbing down the wall. Still bloody raining, making it hard to keep my grip. But when I was about six feet from the ground, I just let go, and I landed in the soft grass. Already, the stormy skies were brightening just a little as the sun started to rise.
With rain pouring down on me, I made my way to the first wall—the one with open arches that would let me pass through. To get out of here without anyone noticing, I’d need to scale the outer wall.
Skulking through the grass, I pulled my cloak tighter. Through the open arch, I looked behind me at the castle looming over the hill. Lights flickered in some of the windows.
I turned back to the outer wall, gazing up at it soaring into the sky. Then I started sliding my fingers into the little cracks of rock, gritting my teeth because the stones were slippery in the rain.
But before I could get off the ground, my heart skipped a beat, and my breath went still. It was as if my body knew something was wrong before my mind did. And then I realized what it was.
The smell of iron and sweet fruit coming up from behind me, and a dark magic skimming over the ground, up the stones.
My body froze as I heard the sound of soft footfalls in the grass.
When I turned my head to look, I saw the faintest outline of a cloaked figure stalking toward me. I recognized his precise, swift gait right away. His movements suggested a restrained violence.
I’d never make it up the wall far enough. And besides, he’d probably just bust out with a set of wings. So I turned to face him, meeting his gray eyes.
For a moment, my mind simply went blank as I looked up into his shadowed face. A line formed between his dark eyebrows. He looked ... perplexed. I felt a rush of his electrical power heating me up.
As he reached behind my head, I shuddered. He pulled down the hood of my cloak. Cold rain hit my face, and my breath shallowed.
His expression was one of confusion, but I felt he was judging me, weighing me, deciding if I was worthy.
The icy rain slid down my skin. When lightning rent the sky behind me, I caught a flash of his sharp cheekbones, the long black eyelashes.
What the fuck was he doing out here anyway? Why was he out prowling the courtyards just before dawn?
"Didn't I tell you not to betray me?" His voice sounded cold and distant.
“I was scared," I said. "I'd heard rumors that you killed some of the women who worked for you. I was worried you would do the same to me. I thought maybe I’d made you angry with everything that happened tonight. So I thought it best to leave.”
Another flicker of confusion in his eyes. Like he couldn’t quite read me.
“I don't care that you were drunk." His voice was a low knell that trembled through my body. “But I do care if you betray me.”
“But how am I supposed to trust you?”
He frowned. “You don’t need to trust me. You fear me. That should be enough.”
And he was right—I was afraid of him. It was instinct. So how the hell was I supposed to seduce him?
Samael was hard for me to read, too. But stalking the courtyard at night suggested to me an unquiet mind, maybe even loneliness. Maybe that was a starting point.
I widened my eyes and hugged myself. “I was afraid my room was haunted. I heard about those two little princes that were killed by a mad king long ago. And I'm positive that I heard them screaming, and saw their ghosts in my room. I woke up and I saw the big blue eyes of two little blonde children dressed in black, staring at me mournfully, and their necks were covered in blood.” I was starting to get so into the macabre story that I forgot how this was connected to any sort of seduction.
He cocked his head. “You had a vivid dream?"
I shrugged, and touched his shoulder for a moment, looking up at him. I thought he flinched at the contact.
“Well, I don't know if it was a dream or real life,” I said. “But all I know is that room is haunted. And maybe if I'm going to sleep, I could sleep in your room. You seem like you could keep me safe from ghosts.”
“Ghosts don't exist. And even if they did, they’re not who you should fear.” He let the threat hang in the air.
“Well, I believe in them.” And I did, sort of. After all, I felt the Raven King’s spirit here. “Lots of Albians believe in them. And they can drive you totally mad. So I think I’d be better in your room. And don’t you ever feel lonely?”
His brow furrowed. “No.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.” Strangely, that was the truth.
He slid away from me. “You could fulfill an important role at some point, Zahra. So perhaps I want to personally keep a close eye on you. You will stay in my room from now on.”
Permanently?
He turned away from me, disappearing into the shadows. “Come with me, then.”
24
Lila
I was completely soaked by the time we reached the Ivory Hall—the grand corridor just before his room, that I’d glimpsed through a crack in the wall. As we crossed into it, I looked up at the ceiling, gasping. At some point, probably long ago, masons had carved the pale stone to look like spindly flower petals fanning out from sharp-vaulted peaks. And the stone itself was ivory like bone. The effect was beautiful, but thorny and sinister, like we were inside the skeleton of an ancient beast.
Staring at the ceiling, I nearly missed the rest of the hall—the narrow, multi-paned windows that stretched up the ceiling, and the wooden doors beneath each of them. I wanted to know where each one of those doors led. Beneath my feet, the flagstones had words written on them, like graves. Maybe they were.
I felt magic tingling over my skin, and I was sure this was a place of ancient power. Like a hall built for the Blessed Raven King.
Samael was leading me to the enormous oak door at the far end of the hall, up a set of stairs. And when he opened the door, we stepped into a library fit for a king. His living quarters were the size of a cathedral, and full from top to bottom with books, the colorful spines faded with age.
Two floors of books lined every wall, with ladders and brassy spiral staircases connecting them. The ceiling curved high above us, painted a deep blue and adorned with paintings of snakes and ravens and stars. Magic.
Knowledge was power. And Samael, the greedy fucker, was hoarding it all for himself.
At the far end of the room, stone arches and columns separated another space that looked like a smaller bedroom within the library.