Jane awoke before dawn with a pounding headache. It took one look at the mostly melted candle on her nightstand to know that her encounter in the tomb hadn’t been some awful dream. Which meant that far beneath her room, there was a talking door knocker imbued with an ancient animation spell. And that Elena had yet again found a way to make her life infinitely more complicated.Jane groaned and buried her face in her pillow. She’d meant what she said last night. The world was beyond helping. Even if … even if she’d seen firsthand just how dangerous things could become—how much worse it could be. And that person in the hall …She flipped onto her back, and Fleetfoot poked her cheek with a wet nose. Idly stroking the dog’s head, Jane stared up at the ceiling and the pale gray light seeping through the curtains.She didn’t want to admit it, but Mort was right. She’d gone to the tomb just to have Elena deal with the creature in the hallway—to be reassured that she wouldn’t have to do an
“Oomph!” she cried, slamming into a broad, muscled shoulder. Benjamin even pulled her to him, a supporting hand on her back to keep her from toppling down the stairs. She looked up through her lashes, and then—A blink, two blinks.The exquisite face gaping at her broke into a grin. “Laena?”She’d planned to smile anyway, but when she heard his old pet name for her… “Archer!”She felt Benjamin stiffen slightly, but she didn’t bother to glance at him. It was hard to look away from Archer, who had been and still was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Not handsome—beautiful. His skin glowed golden even in the height of winter, and his green eyes …Gods above and Wyrd save me.His mouth was a work of art, too, all sensual lines and softness that begged to be explored.As if emerging from a daze, Archer suddenly shook his head. “We should get off the steps,” he said, extending a broad hand to gesture to the street below them. “Unless you and your companion have a reservation—”“Oh, w
Annie rested her cheek on her knee. “He’s ruined everything. And I don’t even know why. Why not just send me home instead?” Her voice had taken on a faraway quality that Jane recognized too well from her time in New York City . Once the memories and the pain and the fear took over, there would be no chance of talking to her.She asked quietly, “You were close to Mcanzie . Did you ever overhear anything about his plans?” A dangerous question, but if anyone might tell her, it would be Annie .But the girl was staring at nothing and didn’t reply.Jane stood. “Good luck.”Annie just shivered, tucking her hands under her arms.She should let Annie freeze to death for what she’d tried to do to her. She should walk out of the dungeons smiling, because for once the right person was locked away.“They encourage the crows to fly past here,” Annie murmured, more to herself than to Jane . “And my headaches are worse every day. Worse and worse, and full of all of those flapping wings.”Jane
Vincent shivered as he entered the kennels that afternoon, brushing snow from his red cloak. Beside him, Benjamin puffed air into his cupped hands, and the two young men hurried farther inside, the straw-coated floors crunching underfoot. Vincent hated winter—the intolerable cold and the way his boots never seemed completely dry.They had chosen to enter the castle through the kennels because it was the easiest way to avoid Hollin, Vincent ’s ten-year-old brother, who had returned from school that morning and was already shrieking demands at anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path. Hollin would never look for them here. He hated animals.They strode through the chorus of barking and whining, Vincent pausing every now and then to greet a favorite hound. He could have spent the rest of the day here—if only to avoid the court dinner in honor of Hollin. “I can’t believe my mother pulled him out of school,” he muttered.“She missed her son,” Benjamin said, still rubbing his hand
“Then she’d owe them. They want a puppet queen, not a true ruler.” Of course —of course they would want something like that. “Are they even from Terrasen?”“No. Davis’s family was, years ago, but he’s spent his whole life in Rifthold. If he claims loyalty to Terrasen, it’s only a half truth.”She ground her teeth. “Self-serving bastards.”Archer shrugged. “That may be true. But they’ve also rescued a good number of would-be victims from the king’s gallows, apparently. The night his friends burst into the house, it was because they’d managed to save one of their informants from being interrogated by the king. They smuggled him out of Rifthold before dawn broke the next day.”Did Benjamin know about this? Given how he’d reacted to killing Cain, she didn’t think torturing and hanging traitors were a part of his duties—or wereeven mentioned to him. Or Vincent, for that matter.But if Benjamin wasn’t in charge of interrogating possible traitors, then who was? Was this person the source
Jane leaned against the desk, whipping out her handkerchief, bowing her shoulders, and starting a miserable sniffle-sob as Davis entered his study.The short, solid man paused at the sight of her, the smile that had been on his face fading. Thankfully, he was alone. She popped up, doing her best to look embarrassed. “Oh!” she said, dabbing at her eyes with her kerchief through the holes in her mask. “Oh, I’m sorry, I—I needed a place to be alone for a moment and they s-s-said I could come in here.”Davis’s eyes narrowed, then shifted to the key in the lock. “How did you get in?” A smooth, slippery voice, dripping with calculation—and a hint of fear.She let out a shuddering sniffle. “The housekeeper.” Hopefully, the poor woman wouldn’t be flayed alive after this. Jane hitched her voice, stumbling and rushing through the words. “My-my betrothed l-l-left m-me.”Honestly, she sometimes wondered if there was something a bit wrong with her for being able to cry so easily.Davis took her
Jane didn’t get a meal, or take a bath, or see a healer for her shoulder. Instead, she hurried to the dungeon, not even looking at the guards that shepassed. Exhaustion ripped at her, but fear kept her moving, almost sprinting down the stairs.They want to use me. They tricked me, Kaltain had said. And in Vincent ’s book of Adarlan’s noble lineages, the Rompier family had been listed as one with a strong Skills al line, supposedly vanished two generations ago.Sometimes I think they brought me here, Kaltain had said. Not to marry Perrington, but for another purpose.Brought Kaltain here, the way Maximus had been brought here. Maximus , of the White Fang Mountains, where powerful shamans had long ruled the tribes.Her mouth went dry as she strode down the dungeon hallway to Kaltain’s cell.She stopped in front, staring through the bars.It was empty.All that was left inside was Jane ’s cloak, discarded in the kicked-up hay.As if Kaltain had struggled against whoever had come to ta
“It’s an anagram,” she panted as she reached the tomb.Mort opened an eye. “Clever, wasn’t it? To hide it right where everyone could see?”Jane eased open the door just wide enough to slip inside. The moonlight was strong, and her breath caught in her throat as she saw precisely where it fell. Trembling, she stopped at the foot of the sarcophagus and traced her fingers over the stone letters. “Tell me what it means.”He paused, long enough for her to take a breath to start yelling at him, but he then said, “I Am the First.”And that was all the confirmation she needed.The first Wyrdkey of the three. Jane moved around the stone body, her eyes on Elena’s sleeping face. As she looked upon those fine features, she whispered the words.In grief, he hid one in the crownOf her he loved so well,To keep with her where she lay downInside the starry cell.She lifted shaking fingers to the blue jewel in the center of the crown. If this was indeed the Wyrdkey … what would she do with it? Wou