Dividing Eden (Dividing Eden #1)(39)
When Juliette had gathered the discarded garments and hurried toward the door, Carys added, “Juliette, I wouldn’t blame you if you had trouble juggling those and dropped them near the guards at the end of the hall. The cloak in particular is thick and bulky if not carried carefully.”
Juliette met Carys’s eyes and nodded. “I did notice that it’s not particularly easy to carry, Your Highness. I will take care to make sure it doesn’t cause too many problems when I take it down to the smoke pits. I’ll be back later to see if there are any other items from today you wish me to dispose of.”
Carys smiled at her maid’s acknowledgment of the task Carys wished her to carry out. “I appreciate your loyalty, Juliette. If ever you feel conflicted about that dedication, I hope you’ll let me know so I can assuage your concerns.”
“There will never be a conflict, Your Highness. I shall return.” With that Juliette slipped out the door and closed it behind her.
Carys moved to the door and waited several long seconds before turning the handle and opening the door a crack so she could listen to the sound of Juliette’s footsteps as the maid hurried down the hall. Juliette giggled at something one of the guards said. Then she let out a small shout. A few moments later, Carys pushed open the door. She could hear the guards, but they weren’t in sight as Carys slipped out of her rooms and hurried to meet her brother at the place they had always gone to when they needed to be alone.
Years ago, Andreus had discovered a door behind a large tapestry in the now unused nursery at the very end of the hall next to Micah’s rooms. The wall hanging was two hundred years old, reached from the ceiling to the floor, and covered three-quarters of the wall. Iron masonry nails fixed the corners of the woven scene of the mountains beyond the castle. All around the mountains were swirling clouds and trees bending beneath the force of the wind. In the center of the biggest gust of wind was a broken crown. From what she could tell, no one knew how long the tapestry had been hanging in the room, or why an artisan created it, but it had been long enough that no one seemed to remember the door it concealed. She wouldn’t have known it was there had Andreus not discovered the hidden entrance while trying to hide behind the tapestry when he was little. Whoever had hidden the entrance had done so long before she was born—long before her father was King.
Carys was relieved to see no guards were stationed in the nursery hallway. Captain Monteros must have decided there was no reason to use his men in an area where no one currently lived. Good. That meant there were no eyes to see her as she hurried into the nursery, shifted the heavy wall hanging, and slipped behind it into the darkness beyond.
An oil lamp and flint to light it were waiting on a small table Andreus had found. Striking one of her stilettos against the flint, Carys lit the lamp, lifted it to the hook in the middle of the small room, and studied the space as she waited for her brother to arrive.
How long had it been since they had come here? The last time she had been here was two years ago when Andreus insisted she try to break herself of the Tears of Midnight that had wrapped her in their seductive grip. He’d taken her into the tunnels below the castle and there she’d fought and screamed and sweated and clawed and shook so hard that Andreus was scared she’d die.
It was fear for her that pushed Andreus into giving her just the small sip that Carys begged for. Just enough to make the worst of the shaking stop and keep her stomach from cramping in a way that made her wish someone would kill her. She’d promised Andreus that she’d take a little less every day until she no longer needed the drug. She’d gotten close so many times to breaking free of the drug’s grasp, but there was always a reason to give it another day. A ball to attend. Micah pushing Andreus to take a turn on the guard’s practice field. Her mother reminding Carys that it was her responsibility to protect her brother’s secret no matter the cost.
Carys walked to the center of the room, pulled up the rug, and stared down at the trapdoor beneath, wishing all the usable exits to the tunnels hadn’t been sealed. As children she and Andreus had used the tunnels to practice his guard drills with the sword and the bow and her with the knife. He hated how she could hit the targets dead center, one after another, while he lost his breath. Day by day, though, week by week, he got stronger and they had to look for longer corridors to set up their targets. By the time they were ten, Carys knew the tunnels below the castle as well as she knew the hallways above.
All but one of the uneven, dirt-packed corridors that ran under the castle ended at piles of boulders and rubble that stood from the floor to the ceiling. The one that didn’t led to a ledge on the southern side of the plateau. From there it was an almost sheer drop to the ground. Andreus often wondered if it was the previous ruling family who had sealed the tunnels to ward off the forces wishing to take their crown and if that one lone exit was the path the surviving Bastians took when they escaped the night the rest were slaughtered. But unless they knew how to fly, Carys couldn’t see how they got to the ground. There must be another unseen way out of the castle. Too bad Carys had no idea where that was because very soon they might need it.
Carys began to pace as she waited for Andreus. Could he have said something to the Council of Elders that made them detain him? Could he have had another attack without a chance to take the remedy?
Worry had her heading for the door as the knob turned and Andreus strode in. The tapestry settled as he closed the door behind him and then several seconds passed as they both waited—listening as they always did for any sound that indicated someone had followed.