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That is, until his gaze found Catherine’s again, and he beheld the same shock reflected in her own eyes.
24
Kitana
“And you’re absolutely positive you didn’t see anything?” I demanded several hours later as I paced the confines of my bedchamber.
Lucius shook his head, his massive frame perched on the settee in front of my bay window. “None of us saw what you did, Kitana,” he said, his gravelly voice grating against my frazzled nerves. “There was no dark energy.”
“That’s not possible.” I raked a hand through my hair, dislodging several of the pins Marisse had placed in it this morning. “Someone else had to have seen it. I’m not imagining things.”
I knew I wasn’t imagining things, knew that the sizzle of energy against my skin had been real, because after it had happened, I’d looked over to see Casimir staring at me, my shock mirrored in his eyes. I was positive he’d witnessed the same event, and judging by his reaction, I didn’t think this was a normal occurrence for him.
“I’m not saying you didn’t see anything, Kitana,” Lucius said, levering himself to his feet. His head nearly brushed the ceiling, and he had to swerve his head to the side to avoid tangling his braids in the chandelier. “I’m only saying that the rest of us didn’t. It could be a phenomenon that’s only observable through witch eyes. Which means Maximillian’s hunch about you was correct, and you are the right person for this mission.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Now try to get some rest and calm your nerves before tonight. You’ll need your wits about you for the soiree.”
Lucius left me, and I collapsed onto the settee he’d vacated with a frustrated sigh. Leaning my forehead against the window, I allowed the cool glass to bite into my skin, hoping the sensation would clear my head.
I’d wanted to speak to Maximillian about this—not just the strange magical phenomenon I’d witnessed, but the false narrative that Vladimir has so expertly spun, and whether Maximillian bought into it like everyone else seemed to. But Highlord Starclaw had whisked Maximillian off to a meeting almost immediately after the summit session had ended, leaving me with no choice but to seek out Lucius instead.
Perhaps you can ask Casimir about it at the soiree tonight.
I scowled as soon as the idiotic thought popped into my head. There was absolutely no way I was going to be broaching this subject with the crown prince. I’d already attracted far too much attention from him, which, given that I was here to kill his father, didn’t seem like the wisest move. Why had I felt the need to talk back to him when I’d run into him last night? Why couldn’t I be a good little mouse and keep my head down?
Sighing, I glanced over at my bed, which looked far too empty. I wished Jinx was here so that I could have someone to vent aloud to, or at the very least, snuggle her and let her take the edge off my nerves. But she couldn’t manifest within the walls of the Iron Spire, just as I couldn’t shadow travel into it. It was no accident that Vladimir had encased the entire structure in iron despite the extraordinary cost involved—the thick coating of metal made it impervious to magical attacks or tampering from the outside, which meant that no witch or human could use their powers to breach it from the outside. It was why neither I nor the Moonlight Conclave—the governing council of Valentaera comprised of the five witches who ran the clans—had ever been able to confront him in person. The coward had simply holed up in his iron fortress and refused to show his face.
Luckily, the iron didn’t prevent me from using magicwithinthe castle walls. I could still use my other powers inside, which was a good thing because I didn’t think I’d be able to kill the king with fighting prowess alone. But that didn’t change the fact that I was stuck here without my faithful companion to guide or soothe me, and even though Maximillian and Lucius were here, they were occupied with summit business, and I couldn’t help feeling a little lonely. I wished the others had come—during the many hours that the cohort had spent training me, I’d grown closer to them, to the point that I'd begun to fool myself into thinking I was part of their little family. But Sparrow had been sent off on some clandestine mission, and Nyra and Eliza had to stay back in Lumina to keep things running.
I wasn’t sure how long I lay on the bed, chasing my thoughts in circles, but eventually my exhaustion got the better of me, and I dozed off. A sharp knock at the door jerked me from a sound sleep, and I shot upright, my eyes going to the clock on the wall. Seven-thirty. Only thirty minutes before the soiree began.
“Catherine?” Marisse called through the door. “Are you almost ready?”
Shit.I glanced down at myself to find that my dress was rumpled from sleeping in it, and I suspected that if I glanced in the mirror, my hair would be in similar condition. “Umm… I might need a little help.”
Marisse marched into the room, her eyes widening with panic as she beheld me. “Stars! You’re not even dressed! Quick, get up!”
I leaped out of bed, and between the two of us, I managed to get out of the dress from this morning and into a violet gown with aquamarine crystals scattered throughout the fabric. It took some skillful maneuvering to keep her from glimpsing the knife and sheath still strapped to my thigh, but somehow I managed it. The thrall attacked my hair with a brush, then gathered it into a high bun atop my head, leaving a few strands to coil around my face. She grabbed the cosmetics bag sitting atop my vanity, and used it to apply light make up to my eyes, cheeks, and lips.
“Good,” she said briskly. “Now let’s get downstairs. The rest of the delegation is already there.”
Well, shit. “Did Lord Starclaw send you to find me?” I asked as I followed her outside.
“He did,” she confirmed. “He mentioned that you seemed a little drained after the session, and asked me to go check on you.”
My cheeks turned pink at that. Had I really looked so awful? I thought I’d done a good job of hiding my exhaustion, but then again, Maximillian had always been able to read me. I wondered if that had anything to do with his mental abilities as a Psychoros vampire—before the Nightforged had lost their connection to the celestial heavens, they’d possessed an array of magicalabilities, or so I’d been told. That was thousands of years ago, and much of the knowledge we had on the vampires pre-Chaos War had been lost to time and memory.
I followed Marisse across the bridge, through the maze of corridors, and up a winding set of staircases that led to the rooftop. I knew from the map that there was a greenhouse garden up here, but the rough sketch Lucius had provided paled in comparison to the verdant wonder that awaited me as we ascended the final stair and stepped onto the roof.
The greenhouse was a stunning piece of architecture, its wrought metal frame intricately designed, its glass panels shimmering under the moonlight. Unlike the ones in Lumina, which were designed strictly for function, this one was a perfect fusion of elegance and utility, the crystal technology integrated seamlessly into the roof to cast a soft, otherworldly glow over the garden below. But it was the plants themselves that were the real stars of the show—a dazzling blend of flora native to Noxalis, most of which I’d never seen in the flesh. Trees with metallic trunks stood like pillars scattered throughout the greenhouse, their silvery branches laden with leaves so dark red, they almost appeared black. Bushes sporting delicate, star-shaped flowers nestled alongside rows of serene blue orchids, their scents blending into a heady perfume, while vines with tiny luminescent blooms reminiscent of fireflies climbed ornate trellises. Throughout it all, high-top tables and elegant garden benches were arranged, all occupied by vampires dressed in evening finery, laughing and socializing. Human servants moved through it all with practiced grace, offering guests glasses filled with bloodwine, and in some cases, their own necks.
I was so transfixed by the sight that it took a moment for me to realize that a man had come to stand by my side. “Impressive,isn’t it?” he rasped, his voice tinged with a strange, metallic echo. “One of the first projects I undertook here at the Spire after the Eternal Night descended upon us.”
I turned to see who had approached, then startled so badly, I nearly jumped into a passing servant. The man standing before me was some horrific amalgamation of human and machine, as if someone had plucked out parts of him they considered defective, then replaced them with synthetic counterparts. He was a thin, wiry man, about six feet tall, with a mop of wild, unkempt hair streaked in grey and white, dressed in a long chartreuse tailcoat, orange trousers, and a pink waistcoat over a white shirt and silver cravat. The clashing outfit was bizarre enough, but even stranger was the metallic box built into the base of his throat, and the large, slightly off-center left eye with a gold pupil and purple sclera that was completely different from the mundane green one in his right socket.
The man chuckled at my reaction, revealing white, even teeth that were at odds with the rest of his chaotic appearance. “My voice box,” he rasped, tapping at the metallic thing in his neck. His fingers—no, the entire hand—were also made of metal, each digit tipped with a different mechanical implement. “I was afflicted with a terrible illness when I was nine years old that forced the doctors to remove it, so I replaced it myself.”
“You must be Icarus Stormwelder,” I said, finally finding my voice. Emperor Vladimir’s personal inventor, who Eliza hated. A chill ran down my spine as a snippet of memory floated to the surface—something that had come up in the investigation I’d launched into the missing witches—but it winnowed away before I could grab hold of it.
“At your service.” He bowed, his hair flopping into his eyes with the motion. The inventor pushed it back from his face with hisnormal hand, a crafty gleam entering his regular eye while the golden pupil in his purple one began to pulse. “You look like you have interesting insides,” he hissed, leaning in. “I’d love to get a better look at them sometime.”
