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
The cut on her arm throbbed, but Jane kept her hand steady as she dipped her finger again into her blood and traced the Troops on the wall, copying the symbols in the book with perfect precision. They formed an archway—a door—and her blood gleamed in the light of the candles she had brought.It had to be perfect—each symbol had to be flawless, or else it wouldn’t work. She kept pressing on the wound to keep it from clotting. Not everyone could harness the marks; no, The Walking Dead said there had to be power in the blood to do it. Maximus had clearly had some trace of power. That must be why the king had rounded up Kaltain and Roland, too. He’d used the keys to suppress Skills , but he must have some way of harnessing the innate power in someone’s blood—and the Troops s must be able to access that power, too.She drew another symbol, nearly finished with the archway.Their power could warp things. It had warped Maximus . But it had also allowed him to summon the ridderak and gain
Jane had Damaris drawn and leveled at Hobbs in a heartbeat. Fleetfoot growled at him, but kept back, a step behind Jane .“What are you doing here?” It was inconceivable that he’d be here. How had he gotten in?“I’ve been tracking you for weeks,” Hobbs said, eyeing the dog. “Nehemia told me about the passages, showed me the way in. I’ve been down here almost every night since she died.”Jane glanced at the portal. If Nehemia had warned her not to open the portal, then she was certain her friend didn’t want Hobbs seeing it, either. She moved to the wall, keeping well away from the blackness as she ran her hand over the glowing green marks, making to wipe them away.“What are you doing?” Hobbs demanded.Jane pointed Damaris at him, furiously wiping at the marks. They didn’t budge. Whatever this spell was, it was far more complex than the one that had sealed the library door—merely swiping away the marks wouldn’t undo it. But Hobbs now stood between her and the book where she had
She reached out a hand as if to grab his, but lowered it—making her face tender and soft and bittersweet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? We could have been working toward this for weeks. We could have tried to solve the riddle together. If I’d known what Nehemia was going to do, how she could lie to me again and again … She betrayed me. In every possible way, Hobbs . She lied to my face, made me believe …” Her shoulders slumped. After a long moment, she took a step toward him. “Nehemia was no better than Arobynn or Clarisse in the end. Hobbs , you should have told me. About everything. I knew it wasn’t Mullison—he wasn’t smart enough. If you’d told me, I could have taken care of it.” A risk—a leap of faith. “For you … For us, I would have taken care of it.”But Hobbs gave her a hesitant smile. “She spent so much time complaining about Councilman Mullison that I knew he’d be the easiest one to blame. And thanks to that competition, he already had a connection to Grave.”“Grave didn’t
She didn’t remember anything after the first two swings of her sword, only that she’d suddenly seen Fleetfoot come flying at the creature. The sight had distracted her enough for the Assassin to get past her guard, its long, white fingers grabbing her by the hair and slamming her head into the wall.Then darkness.She wondered whether she’d died and awoken in hell as she opened her eyes to a pulsing headache—and the sight of Bolton , circling the pale demon, blood dripping from both of them. And then there were cool hands on her head, on her neck, and Vincent crouching in front of her as he said, “Jane .”She struggled to her feet, her head aching even more. She had to help Bolton . Had to—She heard a rip of clothing and a yelp of pain, and she looked at Bolton in time to see him grasp the cut on his shoulder, inflicted by those filthy, jagged nails. The creature roared, its overlong jaw gleaming with saliva, and it lunged again for the captain.Jane tried to move, but she wasn’t
She knew the shift had happened, because it hurt like hell. A flash of blinding pain as her features ripped free of the hold that hid them. The Assassin lunged, and she plummeted into the well of power that was suddenly overflowing inside of her.Skills , savage and unforgiving, erupted out of her, punching into the creature and sending it flying. Flame—years ago, her power had always manifested as some form of fire.She could smell everything, see everything. Her heightened senses pulled her attention every which way, telling her that this world was wrong, and she needed to get out now.But she wouldn’t get out, not until Bolton and Fleetfoot made it to safety.The creature stopped rolling, on its feet in an instant, and Jane put herself between it and Bolton . The Assassin sniffed at her, sinking onto its haunches.She lifted Damaris and bellowed her challenge.From far off in the mist, roars answered. One of them came from the thing in front of her.She looked at Bolton , still c
Though Jane ’s Dark knight senses were extinguished, she could swear she still smelled Hobbs ’s cologne as she moved toward the sewer tunnel, still smelled the blood on him.He had destroyed everything. He’d had Nehemia assassinated, had manipulated them both, had used Nehemia’s death to drive a wedge between her and Bolton , all in the name of power and revenge …She would take him apart. Slowly.I know what you are, he’d said. She didn’t know what Arobynn had told him about her heritage, but Hobbs had no idea what sort of darkness lurked inside her, or what sort of monster she was willing to become in order to make things right.Ahead of her, she could hear muffled curses and banging against metal. By the time she reached the sewer tunnel, she knew what had happened. The grate had slid shut, and none of Hobbs ’s attempts to open it had worked. Perhaps the gods did listen sometimes. Jane smiled, drawing both of her daggers.She walked through the archway, but the passage was empty