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And she’d been murdered for what? Her bloodline was unrelated to Dracula or the House of Basarab. I still had no idea if she’d ever made it to wherever she’d planned on going, or if she’d been slain before investigating her new lead, and the unknowing was driving me mad.
I wished I’d been able to speak with her before she left. I had no idea what she could have known about the Order that would equal a death sentence.
Anger slowly seeped in like oil, replacing that empty well of sadness as I encouraged the fire to ignite action within. I despised murder and all it took from both its victims and the people left in its wake. I would not allow another person to die in this castle. No more students or friends would be taken and extinguished as if they were nothing. I’d been blinded before and wouldn’t permit myself to falsely identify the person responsible. I shut off all emotions except for one: determination.
If not Ileana, or Daciana, or Nicolae, then who?
I glanced around the room, uncertain if the murderer was among us, donning his mask of concern and hiding his internal glee.
Professor Radu caught my attention once again. He dabbed at the sweat beading his brow, nodding a bit too enthusiastically at whatever the headmaster was saying. Were his rantings and active imagination regarding folklore more than just an interest in history? He knew details about both royal lines of the House of Basarab, and the Order of the Dragon. Perhaps he’d grown bored with simply relaying stories of strigoi and supernatural beings hunting the woods. Had his love and admiration of Vlad Dracula set him on his own dark path? Anything was possible.
Then there was Danesti. He was fond of his role of doling out punishments. Was that the mark of a person who’d descended from disciplinarian to murderer? I couldn’t be sure.
I searched for other oddities, no longer accepting anyone at face value. Andrei sat alone at the end of one long table, focus fixed on a knot in the grain he was picking at. Gone was the cocky curve of his lips and the squared-shouldered stance I’d come to know him by. He now sat folded in on himself, as if he could no longer find the energy to sit up.
I nudged Thomas with my foot, then leaned in, my lips nearly brushing his ear. I noted the slight shiver it elicited from him and ignored the answering stutter in my pulse.
“What do you make of that?” I said, indicating Andrei. “Is it all for Nicolae?”
“Hmm.” Thomas studied him for a few moments, sharp gaze taking stock of each movement or lack thereof. He drummed his fingers along the edge of our table. “His worry doesn’t appear to be entirely related to Nicolae. Note the chain around his collar and the pendant hanging from it. I wager it’s a lock of hair. He’s been preoccupied since Miss Anastasia Nádasdy’s appearance in our laboratory. I believe he’s mourning both, but is broken by her death in particular. He might have longed to secure a union with her.”
“She’d mentioned admiring someone. She thought he hadn’t noticed her affections, though. Do you believe he might be involved with her death? Everyone around him is either dead or missing. Is it a coincidence?”
Thomas considered that. “A definite possibility. Though it seems Andrei is the sort of dog that growls loudly and bites rarely. I’ve a feeling whoever took Nicolae has deeper motives. If he’s been taken at all.”
“You believe he’s not missing, then?”
“For all we know, he could be in hiding. Ileana very well might be the one he’s captured and done horrid things to. We still don’t know why he created those illustrations. Or how he knew the injuries on Anastasia were made by bats. He barely even glanced at her. Quite
impressive that he identified those wounds so effortlessly.”
An idea sparked like flint striking stone. “If you were guilty and wanted to hide, where might you go first?”
“Depends on what I’m guilty of. Dirty thoughts or wanton follies, I’d send myself straight to your quarters to be punished.”
“Honestly,” I chided, subtly checking over my shoulder to make sure his remark hadn’t been overheard by Percy or Radu. “We need to find a way to get back into the tunnels. I guarantee that’s where we’ll find the missing prince.”
Guards flooded the dining hall, swords clacking together as if they were the talons of dragons. Headmaster Moldoveanu marched to the front of the hall, long silver hair flowing behind, a general’s cape of sorts.
“You are all required to stay here until we locate Prince Nicolae. To maintain a sense of normality, you will continue with classes. Everyone will be escorted to and from the classrooms. Meals will be sent directly to your private quarters. No one is to leave their chambers or this castle until the royal family has declared otherwise. Anyone caught disobeying will face serious charges.” He glared down the tables at us, his gaze pausing on me for emphasis as he strode to the door and shoved it open. “You are all dismissed. Guards will escort you out now.”
The Bianchi twins slowly pushed back from their seats, followed by Andrei, Erik, Cian, and Noah, the wooden benches scratching against the floor in grave protest. It made absolutely no sense for the royal family to keep us locked away in the academy when a murderer might be somewhere within its walls. Unless they wanted to keep news of Nicolae’s disappearance contained.
Especially if they knew something about him we were still unaware of.
If he were the Impaler alluded to in the newspapers, then perhaps they were trying to keep him from the rest of the kingdom. To protect their citizens at the cost of losing a few. Or maybe they were preventing him from turning his attention to their throne.
Danesti and several other guards barked out orders for us to move quickly, their hands lingering near their weapons. None of us so much as uttered a word as we filed out of the room and into the corridors. It seemed as if Thomas and I would have to find another way to communicate. I prayed he’d not attempt scaling the castle again.
After being escorted to my rooms as if I were a common prisoner, the first thing I noticed was an envelope pinned by a dagger to my bathing room doors. My guard hadn’t been tasked with searching my chambers and had left promptly after depositing me in the tower.
I yanked the paper from the door, noticing that the dagger resembled something that I couldn’t quite place. The hilt was a serpent with emeralds for eyes. Where had I seen this design before?
I flipped through my memories of arriving in Romania and halted. On the train. The victim outside my room had been in possession of a similar jeweled cane. How that related to this case was one more mystery to solve later. The parchment and whatever it contained was my first concern. I hesitated for only a breath before ripping the message from its envelope. Inside the message was simple—a Roman numeral scratched in blood.
XI
My knees buckled. At first, my rational thoughts were washed away by the flood of emotions threatening to undo me. Whoever had left this note had tried imitating the letters Jack the Ripper had written in blood. I slumped to the floor near the tub, pulse racing, as I collected myself. It was a shot aimed directly at my weakest parts, but I was not the same young woman I had been weeks ago.
