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I hesitate,unsure if I’ll be able to make it all the way back to my room in my current state, let alone escape the underground level before I’m discovered.
“Go,” Varin hisses. “You must hurry.” Their sharp tone makes it clear there’s no time for questions.
Slipping out, I move as quickly as possible, using the wall for support. Much slower than I would like, I leave the way I came. It’s not far from Varin’s cell to the door, but by the time I reach it, a cold sweat has broken out across my brow.
I grasp the handle and use my weight to push through. The torch is still where I’d dropped it, but the fire has died down, leaving only lines of embers and the tiniest flickers of flames clinging to life.
A reverberating clang in the distance sends a bolt of panic up my spine.
Boots thud into the corridor. Two, maybe… three sets—it’s hard to tell as the pounding of the guard’s steps bounce off the walls and through the long passage, the sounds doubling over themselves. Voices speak in casual tones too low to make out what they’re saying, punctuated by sharp laughter.
I close the door, gritting my teeth with the effort. It clicks as the lock engages. I hold my breath, listening for any change in their footsteps or speech. Thankfully, it seems to go unnoticed by the guards.
Demons and saints…After my first foray into these lower levels, I’ve become careless, forgetting that it is not entirely unguarded. It’s a wonder I haven’t encountered a guard any of the times I carelessly came and went. I will need to be vigilant more than ever because I cannot risk getting caught.
Gathering up the torch, I start up the dark, narrow steps. Every passing minute craws by as slow as an hour. The unrelenting, weary ache settled deep, taking root within every muscle, coupled with the dim flickering light only allowing me to see a few steps ahead, gives the impression that the way before me is infinite.
The odds are stacked against me. More likely than not, the curse will kill Alaric before I find a way to break it. But as long as the bond we share through the oath remains, keeping us connected, it gives me hope. I know he is alive, so I will keep working to save him. That connection is the only thing preventing the frayed threads holding me together from snapping.
At the top of the stairs, I stop and prop myself against the wall to catch my breath. I lower my arm, no longer having the energy to hold the torch aloft. It slips from my fingers, clattering on the cold stones. Tiny sparks scatter as the weak flame finally extinguishes.
A few sconces at the far end of the corridor illuminate the space between the armory where Cassius and I train and the spiral stairs leading to the main level. I want nothing more than to rest, but I force myself to keep going.
Using the wall for support, I concentrate on placing one foot in front of the other, refusing to think of the challenges that await me once I make it to the far end.
I near the training room when the steady unfamiliar gait of a man’s leather boots descending the stairs breaks my focus.
Demon shit.Either the saints are working against me, or I am too far underground for them to aid me.
My thoughts race, looking for an excuse—any excuse—as to why I would be down here by myself.
When I left Cherno in my room, I hadn’t told them where I was going. And as far as Cassius is aware, I only come down here when we train. Besides them, I can’t think who else might come down to this abandoned part of the castle.
Regardless, whoever it is, whatever their reasons, it doesn’t matter. I cannot allow anyone to suspect the truth of what I am up to. I lengthen my stride, forcing my tired legs to move faster. A tall figure comes into view just as I make it within a few feet of the old armory door.
I turn away from them, sniffling as I swipe the sweat from my face and hope that whoever it is believes I’m just a miserable human girl who hid away to cry. It’s pathetic, but it’s all I can come up with on such short notice.
“Clara?”
The sound of my name freezes me where I stand as I try to place the hesitant voice. Then it clicks, and I whirl to face him.
Lawrence stares at me with what I imagine is an identical expression to the one I give him. In a blink, he is before me, gray eyes wide as if he sees a ghost. Genuine worry has replaced the cool demeanor I’m used to. He grips my shoulders roughly.
“Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you all morning.” He tears his gaze from my face and looks up and down the hall.
Arinah scurries from one of his shoulders to the other, their pink nose twitching long whiskers, then stills. I plead with my eyes for them to stay quiet and give a nearly imperceptible shake of my head.
The white and gold demon rat has no reason to keep anything from their vampire. But if I’ve learned anything from my encounters with demons, it’s that they are capable of a lot more than I ever thought possible—including compassion.
Their red eyes narrow, and I tense, awaiting their decision. They scurry to settle between the collars of Lawrence’s Jacket and shirt, leaving only their long pink tail visible. My back wilts as the tension releases my spine.
Finding no one around, Lawrence brings his attention back to me. “Why are you down here?”
I open my mouth to answer, then close it when I realize I don’t have an answer—I don’t know what I can say, let alone what Ishouldsay?
He frowns and presses his lips into a thin line when I stay silent.
“Are you hurt?” he presses.
