Page 81 of Hellbound

His head was slumped forward, arms slack by his side, as if he were resting beneath the oak tree. The pool of blood that seeped into the grass around him indicated otherwise.

“Petra, come down.” Her voice carried up into the higher reaches of the tree.

Wide brown eyes peeked around the trunk and Petra’s yellow blonde hair blew in the wind around her as she stepped nimbly from branch to branch, holding on to the trunk for support.

She ventured lower until a few feet separated them.

Ksenia stretched her hands upward, and Petra leapt to her like it was nothing. Like the blood wasn’t there.

Ksenia set her on the ground then knelt before her, turning the girl’s face back and forth in her hands. “Petra, are you okay? What happened?”

Petra gave her a curt nod, solid on her feet. “Ulrik told me to climb and hide. He told me that Lord Dmitri might want to play games because I’m fast.” Petra’s voice dropped, her fingers weaving through her curls and tugging. “But he didn’t hide as fast.”

Ksenia squeezed her shoulder, leaning in. Silence swept over them as they regarded Ulrik’s body at the base of the tree.

Ksenia broke the silence. “Ulrik was a good man who wanted you to be safe.”

Her chest closed like a vise. She had just committed three murders within Hearth, and it was only a matter of time before the bodies were found.

She closed her eyes and counted until she could calm her racing heart. “We need to go get cleaned up.”

Petra’s hand was surprisingly strong as she took hold of Ksenia’s clammy one and led her on a twisting and turning path through the hedges, toward another exit.

Tucked at the side of the courtyard was a section of overgrown ivy. Petra deftly parted the glossy green leaves and vines, revealing a seam in the wall and a latch.

A stone door hinged outward, and Petra pulled Ksenia into a low-ceilinged, darkened tunnel.

22

Petra had to have the memory of a steel trap to pick her way through the maze of corridors hidden throughout the castle. Much of it was covered in dust and cobwebs, but Petra traversed them with ease and confidence until they let out into the servant’s quarters.

Ksenia cleaned the blood from her skin and burned her blood-soaked clothing in the fireplace that heated the quarters.

Her eyes flicked to Petra. Checking that she was still there, in one piece.

Then she waited for the stillness. That glassy, faraway look she’d seen settle over bondsmith children Petra’s age when the running was over.

Ksenia dragged her fingers through her hair while Petra, her tiny co-conspirator, rummaged through a closet.

“You looked for me.” Petra’s deft fingers were sorting through spare servant uniforms, not looking at Ksenia. “No one usually does.”

Ksenia didn’t answer. She accepted the uniform outstretched towards her and checked the fit.

It was loose but wouldn’t draw attention.

“What about your parents?”

Her tiny hands kept rummaging. Refolding what she’d displaced. “It’s just me.” She shut the closet door.

Ksenia bit the inside of her cheek.

Petra wasn’t safe around her.

She lowered herself to Petra’s level. “We can’t keep running into each other, okay? It’s dangerous.”

Petra’s big brown eyes shone with equal parts defiance and light.

“But you’re my friend. And I don’t want you to die like the others did last year.” She sniffed.