A Dawn of Onyx (The Sacred Stones, #1)(33)

His face softened, “Done.”

“And you must swear not to harm my brother,” I breathed. “I am serving his sentence.”

“Of course,” he said, though his mouth soured.

“And… I want out of the dungeons. If I am going to live here, I cannot sleep in a cell forever. I need to be allowed to roam the castle freely. No more Barney hovering over me.”

He looked at me, lethal and unforgiving. “Fine. You can have all of your requests, but hear me, bird. You will not run again. If you do, your family, once I find them, will suffer for it.”

Blood leeched from my face, but I nodded in silence as still as death.

“It’s dangerous out there,” he added. “If you can believe it, I don’t wish to see you harmed.”

Despite everything that had happened, I exhaled a long slow breath. If he kept his word, I would be able to get a message to my family. Maybe I’d even see them again one day, if I behaved. And if he was lying, I’d know soon enough, when he had no proof of my family’s safety, and I could try to escape again then, once I had made him believe I had no intention of doing so.

Still, bitterness coated my tongue. I couldn’t help the words that flew from my mouth at him as our eyes met under the twinkling light of the moon.

“I wish whatever attacked you in the woods had succeeded.”

Eyes laced with deadly power gazed back at me.

“No, you do not.”





NINE


“You’re poutier than usual today.”

Dagan eyed me, and I shifted to stare sullenly out the window at the woods, thinking of all I had lost in so little time.

The chambers I was taken to last night in the servants’ quarters were nothing special, but larger than the room Leigh and I had shared back in Abbington. The thought depressed me for more than a few reasons. But the white linens had been cool on my skin, and a small fireplace emanated a low, temperate heat. Despite my worry that anxiety-driven nightmares would keep me up all night, sleep had come for me swiftly. Thoughts of darkened dragon scales, bloody fingernails, and careless gray eyes had followed me into a dreamless slumber.

Yesterday, I had thought it would be my last afternoon in this apothecary. Now, it was a lifetime. Dagan’s tense mood paired well with mine, and the two of us only highlighted the coldness of the castle. While I could appreciate the keep’s impressive towers, delicate chandeliers, and expensive textured furniture, all I could think of as I had walked to the apothecary this morning was an entire existence spent here against my will.

“I had a long night,” I said.

Dagan waited for me to continue. I very much did not want to talk about this, but he also had never cared before to get to know me—if we were to continue working together, I felt like I should take advantage of his interest.

“I found out someone had been lying to me. And I was roughed up a bit. By the lieutenant. I’m fine though.”

Maybe I expected the same protective, furious anger that I had felt from the king, but Dagan just continued to wath me, expressionless.

“He tried to assault me,” I said, finding myself looking for an outraged reaction. I wanted to know what Dagan thought of Bert. Of King Ravenwood. Was he not upset by this? Did nobody in this Stones-forsaken castle have a conscience? “But the king stepped in… and sentenced him to death.”

Still nothing.

“By torture,” I glared at the older man.

Dagan huffed and closed his book, reaching under the cabinet.

“Thanks for your concern,” I said, under my breath.

He pulled out a parcel wrapped in burlap and rounded the counter for the door. I must have really been boring him today.

“You coming?”

I stared at him, stunned.

Coming? With him?

“Where are you going?”

“Only one way to find out,” he said, more bored than anything.

I looked around the apothecary. I was never going to learn any more about this castle—this kingdom—stuck in here each day. And if I had learned anything last night, it was that knowledge was power, and I was powerless unless I pushed my fear aside and braved the rest of this keep.

I followed him out into the gallery without another question.

We strolled silently through the castle, passing corners shrouded in shadow, and soldiers speaking in hushed tones. When I felt their inquisitive eyes on me, I sped up to keep closer to the old man.

My freedom from Barney’s watchful eye felt eerie—almost too good to be true. But I allowed a single splinter of hope to pierce my heart. Maybe the king intended to keep his promises, and my independence in the castle was the first.

Instead of taking the route I had grown so accustomed to—down the sprawling stairs, through the hall of oil paintings and out the front doors to the dungeon—we made an unexpected left and filed down a hallway dotted with statues. A pale marble woman in the throes of ecstasy wrapped in sheer fabric made me blush, while a wolf frozen in obsidian with teeth bared felt almost too lifelike to be art. The passage ended in a wooden door that a single guard opened for us.

Misty morning air filled my lungs.

We trudged silently down a damp, stone staircase until I couldn’t hold my unease in any longer.

“Where are we going?”

Of course, he didn’t answer me. I should have expected as much.