~
Nocturne didn’t get to have her bath after all.
Zenaide put her to work helping the servants in the kitchen—her punishment for not having bonded with a Skin yet.
The courtyard was filled with the sounds of hammers striking red-hot blades, and Barghests—large, hyena-like hounds the king kept for battle purposes—snarling from the pens that lined the stone walls. Nocturne kept as close to the walls but as far from the pens as possible as she made her way back from the root cellar, a heavy basket of beets, onions, and potatoes slowing her pace. The king’s men shot nasty looks her way as she lumbered past where they were forging broad blades, but she did not meet their glares.
As she rounded the corner that would take her to the front entrance of the House, she caught sight of that same scrawny wolf she’d seen earlier. It was scurrying past the Barghest pens, barely avoiding the claws that swiped through the bars.
Why would she dare to get so close?
Nocturne slowed to a stop in the shadow of the towering House of Ice and watched.
The wolf was hungry, she realized. She was attempting to sneak away with whatever scrap of food had fallen close enough to the metal bars of the pens. If she got any closer, she’d sate the appetite of one of those ugly dogs. One swipe of those razor-sharp claws and she’d be pinned against the bars and ripped to shreds. Nocturne couldn’t bear to watch.
But the wolf dodged another swipe and scooted away, giving up at last. Her ears were flat to her head and her tail was tucked between her legs as she passed the king’s men hammering blades and made her way to the root cellar, kicking up snow behind her.
Nocturne waited to make sure no one was watching before she followed the wolf.
She had to search for her for a while, and she nearly gave up before she found the wolf hiding in a shallow hole that had been dug beneath the cellar’s foundation. Her eyes shone with fear as Nocturne set the basket aside and knelt in the snow before her.
“Poor thing,” Nocturne whispered. “The king doesn’t feed you well at all, does he?”
The wolf shrank back into the shadows. The manacles on her paws gleamed despite the darkness beneath the cellar.
“Wait here,” Nocturne said. She hurried back into the cellar and returned a moment later with a package of salt meat. The wolf licked her chops and dared to wiggle a little closer as Nocturne unwrapped the meat. She offered her a piece, and the wolf took it after some hesitation. Nocturne fed the whole thing to her, damning the consequences.
What food was left in the cellar was becoming scarce, which was a sign that the army was not doing as well with their training as the king expected. This near-unlivable realm of ice and snow did little to support the life forms that dwelled here, and so the king used this to his advantage. If the packs did not perform as they should, less food and supplies would be permitted entrance through the borders. He had them so far under his thumb, it was a wonder any of the soldiers bothered to try at all.
The wolf licked the salt from Nocturne’s fingers. One of her eyes was yellow; the other was brown and surrounded by scar tissue. “You probably don’t remember me,” Nocturne whispered, her breath hanging in the chill air. “But I remember you.”
9
Hadrian stared at Avalon in disbelief. “You want to dowhat?”he snarled.
They were sitting in a cave several miles south of the Blue River, waiting out the rainstorm that had flooded the land in mud. Avalon’s teeth were chattering—again. She’d had enough of this cursed realm, but it wasn’t time for her to go home. Not yet.
After she’d told Hadrian almost everything that had happened when she’d put on the mask—and had reluctantly admitted where she found the damn thing—she had given him a rapid explanation about which warrior she thought was trapped inside it.
And just what, exactly, she planned to do with the mask.
“You want tofreeher?” Hadrian gritted out through clenched teeth.
“Why not?” Avalon snapped. “Give me one good reason why it wouldn’t be a good idea to break her out of there.”
Hadrian’s chestnut eyes were bright as coals. “Did you ever stop to considerwhyshe was put in there? We know nothing about her, Avalon. We don’t even know if sheisSable, for crying out loud!”
“I know it’s her!” Avalon barked.
“How do you know, Avalon?” When she didn’t answer, he repeated,“How—do—you—know?”
“Because…” She struggled for words. “Because I’ve dreamed of her for the past ten years. And they’re not just dreams, Hadrian. They’rememories. Hermemories.”
Hadrian’s sigh was nearly a growl as he slumped back against the cave wall. “Here we go again.”
“You think I’m crazy, but I’m not. Explain how I’ve been seeing glimpses of her life in my head for the past decade.”
“They’re dreams, Avalon.” Although his voice was calmer now, it was still edged with irritation. “There is no way in the Nine Hells a mortal girl can see the life of a Fey inside her head.” He’d saidmortalas if it were a disease. And for one split second, Avalon hated him for it.
