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“Then we could prove if Moldoveanu was lying,” he continued.
“Oh, yes. Let’s sneak about outdoors. I’m sure the headmaster would be quite kind if he caught me again, doing the very thing he warned me against. If the vampiric murderer or rogue chivalric group wandering the halls of this castle don’t get to us first, that is,” I said. Thomas snorted, but I ignored his dismissal. “Do you believe our headmaster knows precisely who’s murdering students and staff? That he’s possibly responsible? I don’t want to risk expulsion if we’re wrong.”
“I believe he’s too obvious,” Thomas said. “But I’m not as convinced that he’s completely ignorant of the strange occurrences in the castle. I wonder if he’s sympathetic to the Order. Though I do not believe he’s a member. He doesn’t have the birth rank. In fact, I believe we’ve both been distracted by other truths.”
“Are you suggesting the Order isn’t involved at all, then?” My mind churned with several new ideas as I removed the Order of the Dragon from the equation. “It very well might be someone pretending to be them. Perhaps that’s why we’re unable to discover a true connection to the Order. What if they in fact are playing no part in this case?”
“They might simply be an elaborate distraction created by the murderer.”
“It would explain how you haven’t managed to deduce or concoct a theory in that magical way of yours.” I narrowed my eyes. “You haven’t read scuff marks on boots and sacrificed something to the math gods to solve the case, have you?”
“This may be hard to believe,” Thomas said, voice suddenly grave. “But I have yet to tap into my psychic powers. I do, however, have questions and suspicions I cannot ignore.”
“You’ve intrigued me. Do go on.”
Thomas took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Where has Anastasia been? I’m afraid we’ve both been ignoring facts. Ones that have been blinding in their obviousness.”
My blood prickled. Thomas was being overly cautious. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d told me to suspect those closest to us, and yet part of me knew Anastasia had secrets. In fact, if I were being truly honest with myself, I knew Ileana had them, too. I had known someone else who’d harbored secrets.…
I shut my emotions off, not allowing devastation to cloud any more of my judgment. I would neither be willfully blind to the truth nor keep my suspicions to myself from this point forward, no matter the cost to my heart.
“I also haven’t seen Ileana in two days. Which was the evening before the body was taken from the tower morgue.”
Thomas nodded. “And? What else? What else doesn’t quite add together?”
I thought back on all the times we’d spoken about strigoi. About how she’d change the subject before Anastasia could ask more questions. How superstitious she’d been about the bodies. “Ileana’s from Brasov. The village where the first murder occurred.”
“She’s also aware that Vlad Dracula’s blood runs through my sister’s veins.”
I knew it wasn’t medically possible, but I swore I felt my heart stop beating. At least for a moment. I stared at Thomas, knowing our thoughts were straying to the same horrid conclusion.
“Do you know where Daciana is now?” I asked, pulse racing. “Which city she was visiting next?” Thomas slowly shook his head. A darker feeling tugged at my core. “Are you certain she left the castle? What about the invitation to the ball?”
“Daci is a bit of a planner; she’d probably have written it out ahead of time. The invitation could have been sent through the post by anyone.” Silver lined the edges of Thomas’s eyes, but he quickly blinked the liquid away. “I never saw her off in her carriage. She slipped away with Ileana. I didn’t want to intrude. I thought they wanted a bit more time alone.”
The body stolen from the tower morgue—was it Daciana’s? I could barely breathe. Thomas had already lost his mother; losing a sibling was as close to a mortal wound as one could withstand. I forced my brain to move through its grief and connect any dots or clues. What did we know about Daciana’s last days or hours at the castle? Then it struck me.
“I know precisely where we need to go.” I made to grab his hand, then paused. Even behind castle walls, the impropriety of my action would not go unnoticed. As if my fears had summoned him, the librarian walked past, arms filled with books. “Come,” I said. “I have an idea.”
We exited the library and scanned the wide corridors. No maids or servants or guards. Not that we would have noticed the maids straightaway—they could be hidden away behind the tapestries in the makeshift corridor. I motioned for Thomas to follow me into the secret hallway, and we moved swiftly and alertly. Focus primed for any movements or sounds.
The air was particularly cold—hallway fires had burned down to nothing, and torches weren’t lit. It was as if the castle were closing off its own emotions, descending into that icy calm. I hoped a storm wasn’t about to break around us.
Some nooks now seemed even more sinister—they were places that might shelter anyone who wished to do harm. I kept one eye out for any flash of movement there. We passed a pedestal with a serpent, and I shivered. Anyone might be ducking behind it, waiting to pounce.
Ileana was small enough to disappear among the displayed artifacts. Thomas followed my gaze but kept his expression neutral. I wanted to know if it was the first time he’d been in the servants’ passages but didn’t risk speaking aloud. Not yet.
Scuffled boots tramped along the carpets in the main corridor. We froze, backs pressed against one of the large tapestries. I didn’t dare glance at which scene of torture we’d hidden against. Judging from the heavy tread, I guessed there were at least four guards. They didn’t speak. The only sounds of their arrival and departure were the clunk, clunk, clunk of their rhythmic steps.
I barely breathed until the thump of their boots faded. Even then, Thomas and I remained motionless for a few beats more. I peeled myself away from the wall and checked both ways. We’d exit the secret corridor soon.
Thankfully, we managed to find our way toward Anastasia’s chambers undetected. Seemed everyone heeded the headmaster’s warning and were tightly locked away in their rooms.
I pressed my ear against Anastasia’s chamber door, listening for a moment before opening it. The fires hadn’t been lit, but the sunlight streamed in through the open curtains. Everything was just as I remembered it the last time Anastasia had been here.
“Why are we in this chamber, Wadsworth?”
I scanned the room. The book Anastasia had taken from the missing woman’s house had appeared to bear one of the Order’s symbols. And if that were the case, perhaps…
