Hadrian can handle himself,the warrior said, though the words came with reluctance.We’re running out of time. Get to the temple, Avalon. Please.
She had to believe that Hadrian could break free. He could handle them; there was a reason he was the Captain of the Guard. City guards were nothing compared to Skorpios and corrupt Elves.
The clock tower chimed out eleven o’clock. One hour until midnight. One hour before her chance to break Sable out of the mask would be gone forever.
With a final glance over her shoulder, at the alley where Hadrian had disappeared, she hurried up the steps, toward the House of Fire and the temple perched to the south.
~
Down in the city, the clock tower declared eleven o’clock.
Elden Kipling paced on the steps at the base of the temple that overlooked the city, just out of sight of the Leviathan who prowled the shadowed grounds near the main entrance—king’s order, no doubt. The Moonstone and the third Tear of Hilsian were burning a hole in Elden’s pocket.
They’d arrived at the House of Fire mere minutes ago. The Wolf of Winter had managed to run into him before they’d left the House of Ice, delivering the Moonstone, and Killian had pulled a daring stunt that had allowed him to snatch up the last Tear while traversing the tunnels beneath the city. It was by luck alone that the clumsy page had been walking past the king. Elden couldn’t allow himself to feel remorse for the boy; hundreds of innocent people had died since the wars began. It was only one more.
Yes, just one more person dead,he thought with disgust. Some days, it was easy to hate himself.
Ten minutes passed as the Wraith watched the hands on the clock tower move too quickly.
Where was Avalon?
At a quarter past eleven, Elden spotted a figure hurrying up the sandstone steps that led to the temple. Judging from the feminine gait and the willowy shape of the body beneath the pearl-gray cloak, he would be willing to bet it was a girl. She clutched a cloth bag tightly to her chest, and when she rounded the corner to ascend the last of the steps, lantern light reflected in the silver covering her face.
The Iron Blind.
It was Avalon.
It seemed to take a very long time for her to make it up the last of the steps, and the Wraith grew anxious. His foot began tapping out an impatient tune, and soon he was pacing again. A part of him itched for the chance to take down the Leviathan after working for years with the stupid brute. The other part of him, he had to admit, was afraid the Leviathan was the better fighter. The Wraith was quicker, but the Leviathan’s strength was unnatural. If he got a hold of Elden’s head for even a moment, he could cause some serious and permanent damage.
Finally, Avalon rounded the corner, her head down. Before she could take note of Elden standing there, and before he had a chance to say anything to her, her head connected with his chest, and she stumbled back. He caught her before she could topple to the ground, and before she had a chance to make a noise, he used his other gloved hand to cover the silver mouth of the Iron Blind.
“Wraith,” she whispered in relief.
Elden couldn’t help but glare at her. “It’sElden,”he corrected.
“Elden,” the princess repeated. “Sorry.”
He fished the Moonstone and the Tear out of his pocket, took her free hand, and closed her fingers firmly around them. “You have thirty-five minutes. Once you’re inside the tower, you’ll have another three hundred stairs. Do not stop. Do not open any doors—go straight to the top floor.”
“What about guard duty?”
“I’ll handle the Leviathan.”
“TheLeviathan?”she squeaked. Elden could envision the look of terror that likely flashed through her eyes behind the mask.
“I’ll handle him,” he repeated. He gave her a gentle shove toward the last of the stairs that led up to the entrance of the temple.“Now run.”
48
The winding staircase seemed to go on forever.
Every breath singed Avalon’s throat as she bolted up the steps, gritting her teeth against the searing pain shooting from her thighs to her calves. She was dizzy from the never-ending spiral of stairs, every flickering candle and stained-glass window she bolted by identical to the last. Inside the mask, Sable kept silent, though Avalon sensed her agitation. They were down to minutes now.
A shadow fell over her as she rounded that same, ongoing corner. Avalon hardly had a chance to turn around before a hand was tightening around the back of her cloak.
Her cry of surprise was strangled as she was yanked back. Her brooch cut into her throat, the jewels drawing blood. The stairs disappeared from under her feet, and the candles glowing within the alcoves streaked past her in a blur of red light as she fell.
As she wasthrown.
