Page 125 of Facade

Silence fell, thick and uncomfortable. Only the sound of our chains clinking and his wheezing breaths filled the cold room.

“How will we get out of this?” I whispered.

His silence was answer enough.

37

Evanee

The fog kept me obscured from view, its guidance a caress, as if it were Ryker’s hand brushing over my back and arms.

The castle loomed over me, the moon reflecting in the obsidian stone. My skin prickled the closer I got—my instincts warning me to turn away.

I gritted my teeth and pressed on.

We’d watched for some time from deep in the woods, noting the servants coming and going from a side entrance. With Ryker’s coverage, I swiftly crossed the grounds to that entrance. My breath caught, eyes locked on the door as I descended the stairs.

This was where the plan wasn’t great—we didn’t know the layout.

The fog lingered at the stairs as I eased the wooden oak door open, wincing as the hinges creaked. I exhaled, seeing that the small entry hall was clear, and eased inside.

Sweet aromas drifted to me from the kitchens—it was unnerving to have such a normal, warm smell in a place that was cold and evil.

The clatter of plates echoed down the hall, followed by a shout from the cook about muffins. I hesitated as the shouting moved my way—it stopped, returning the way it came.

Moving carefully, I turned left, away from the commotion, senses sharpened to everything around me. Pantry, cupboard, a washroom. My feet stayed silent on the stones as I scanned every room.

Rounding the corner, I came upon stone steps that led to a door. Light flooded through the closed frame. I barely breathed, careful not to scrape the steel strapped to my back against the wall, and pulled a dagger from my boot, palming it as I ascended. Breath stalled in my throat as I pushed open the door a hair—another hall.

Air slipped past my lips as I eased through.

Another fork at the end of the short hall. Left again.

Voices sounded ahead.

I slowed, pressing myself against the wall once more. Only the light squeak of my fighting leathers rubbing together filled the hall.

The voices went from normal chatter to urgent shouts. I waited until they disappeared. Whatever Ryker was doing, I could only hope it kept the Fae and whoever else was here away long enough for me to find Aniah.

An archway stretched ahead, leading into a grand room. I peeked through the cracked door, then pushed through once I confirmed it was empty.

It was rustic and bare—paintings on the walls of old Fae nobility, along with the heads of various otherworldly beasts, similar to the useo—one with gnarled black horns twisting to sharp points, rows of jagged teeth. Another with pits for eyes and sickly, hairless, pale skin, mid snarl revealing rotted fangs. One head caught my attention, though—three sets of eyes with slits like a snake and beautiful teal scales that turned violet where the head was severed. My heart tugged as those glass eyes seemed to look at me, asking why I couldn’t help it—I grimaced, tearing my gaze away.

Howls and shrieks sounded outside. I hurried to the window, peering out, brows raised. A blizzard, thick and angry, was in full effect. Snow blew in every direction, making it nearly impossible to see. A snow-filled tornado tore past with something large inside it—a Werewolf twirled within the vortex, crying out, eyes bulging.

I bit down a laugh, knowing the image would be printed in my mind forever. Ryker’s distraction would definitely keep the enemy busy.

Silently crossing the room, I pressed my ear against a closed door and waited. Listened. Boots hitting the stone thumped by, with angry shouts. When the voices grew distant, I carefully cracked open the door.

All clear.

I slipped out, moving quickly across the grand entry to the shadows beneath the stairs.

Another set of footsteps echoed—too close. I pressed back as far as I could in the shadows, but I knew that one look in my direction, and I’d be caught. My hand squeezed around the dagger.

The footsteps slowed.

My pulse quickened, panic clawing inside me. I held as still as the stone wall at my back.