Broken Veil (Harbinger #5)(66)

“Still don’t see a soul,” Dumas muttered.

Was it truly abandoned? Was the Leerings’ warning just an automatic reflex, a protection invoked even if no one was there? The zephyr came down low enough that Cettie could see the flowering leaves of the nasturtium flutter. She put her hand on the edge of the zephyr, coiled and prepared to spring.

She saw the table where Jevin played his hautboie in the mornings. The sun was rising now, squelching the shadows. But that wouldn’t help in the darkness of the dungeon, where Trevon was being kept, if, indeed, Montpensier had been talking about this poisoner school.

“Can I bring a lamp with me, Captain?” she asked.

He nodded and ordered one of the dragoons to hand one to her. She took it and looped the strap of her poisoner bag through it. Her heart was thundering, but she tried to appear calm. She still did not see anyone in the compound. The zephyr hovered over the stones.

Cettie vaulted over the edge of the sky ship and landed on the ground. She heard a cry of warning from above and whirled, just as Adam landed from the other side of the zephyr. The two of them were the only ones who’d made the jump.

Her mouth pinched with anger. “Get back on the zephyr.”

He shook his head. “I already told you. I’m coming with you. The Mysteries are telling me I should go.”

Cettie looked up and saw Captain Dumas staring at Adam in shocked surprise. He clearly hadn’t ordered him to join her.

She squeezed her hands into fists, not certain what to do. She couldn’t force him back on the zephyr, and she’d pledged to listen to the Mysteries—if he was truly supposed to be there, she couldn’t refuse his company. She closed her eyes, trying to hear the Mysteries’ direction through an avalanche of conflicting feelings.

All is well.

That was the only message she could discern. She would have preferred a different answer, but she went with the one she had been given. Opening her eyes, she looked up at Captain Dumas and nodded for him to go. The zephyr launched into the sky. She saw the other two flying in wide arcs around the walls. The Serpentine lumbered overhead, blotting out the sun, its shadow falling on her and Adam.

“Stay close to me,” she told him. She saw his nervousness, but he was a brave man and always had been.

“I intend to,” he answered.



As Cettie reached for the door handle to the building connected to the underground chambers—including the place of healing where the Everoot had cured her so many times—she tried to sense the presence of hetaera magic. She hadn’t sensed any yet, which made her wonder if the school had truly been abandoned. Surely there were underground tunnels allowing escape.

She gripped the handle, turned it, and pushed it open. Darkness, so dark her eyes could see nothing. The windows had all been shuttered. She walked inside, listening for any indication she was not alone. Her senses were on a knife’s edge, but they did not pick up on any strange sounds or smells. She entered the classroom, giving her eyes a little chance to adjust.

Every detail of the chamber was just as her memory had left it. The wicker chairs, the padded bench. There were oil lamps hanging from iron pegs. All were darkened. She stepped in after her eyes had mitigated the darkness. She walked deeper into the room, Adam following close behind, seeing the things for the first time.

Steady lads. Eagle eyes, all of you. She heard the captain’s order in her mind.

She walked softly, trying to mute her steps. At the other side of the room was another door. Pausing there, she tried to sense if anyone lay behind it. She felt nothing. So she twisted that handle too and ventured deeper into the dark. Retrieving the lantern from her satchel, she invoked its light, illuminating the corridor beyond.

There, at the far end of the corridor, was the stairwell going down to the healing chamber. The place that held the Leering covered in Everoot. It was the deepest part of the school, though she imagined the dungeon lay even deeper. She’d never been there before.

With a shivering heart, she walked toward the stairs. She heard the noise of Adam’s boots behind her. Her mouth was so dry she wished she’d brought some water. It was painful to swallow.

The door.

Cettie put her hand on it, and she immediately felt life emanating from beyond and below. There were people down there, sparks of life, each with their own sad tune.

“There are others here,” she whispered over her shoulder. “Be ready.”

Cettie twisted the handle and then started down the steps. She heard moans coming from below, frightened whispers. The light from the lantern chased back the gloom, revealing that the door to the healing room had been ripped off its hinges. A huddled mass of people covered the benches in the room. None of their feet touched the floor. The Leering below was still working, dripping water from its surface, which pattered into the basin of the fountain.

She kept coming down the steps, scanning everything, trying to make sense of it. She recognized some of the servants who had once obeyed her. They stared at her with horror and fear, as if she’d come to kill them all. What had they been told?

Then she noticed the serpents writhing on the floor. Some were even coiled at the foot of the steps. So the slaves were trapped by their fear. They couldn’t escape, nor had they been taken.

“There are people down here,” she said, speaking to the pin at her collar. “Trapped. Serpents everywhere.”