Master of Iron (Bladesmith #2)(13)

As I am now.

I watch Petrik take careful note of each door we pass. At one point, he mumbles, “Ravis’s rooms,” and pulls his headscarf tighter about his face. Four guards stand outside at attention. They eye us as we pass, and my nerves ratchet up, coiling tight like a spring about to pop free.

I breathe easier when they’re out of sight, but only a little.

But then we come to a shorter hallway that deviates from the corridor we’re walking down now. At the end, a group of soldiers stand, also at attention, spearpoints gripped in their fists, feet spread apart, eyes dead ahead, watching us.

Only, as far as I can tell, they’re not guarding anything. There aren’t any doorways down there. Nothing of value lines the walls. The palace is actually quite bare, as though the occupants hadn’t moved in yet—or they’re packing to leave …

My muscles tense as we pass by the group of guards, fully expecting someone to call us out or chase after us, but nothing happens.

Hold on, Temra. Hold on.

We reach the end of the corridor, a lone guard standing there in case he’s needed. Though we know Serutha is being held on this level, we have no choice but to go down the stairs or to look suspicious.

“Now what?” I ask when we reach the bottom.

“We must have missed something,” Kellyn says. “Or the prince’s intel was wrong. Maybe the healer has been moved.”

Petrik says, “I don’t think so. If Skiro’s spies were found, that would only make Ravis extra cautious. He would keep Serutha close. He would add more guards.”

“Do you think she’s being held in his rooms, then?”

Petrik shakes his head. “Ravis wouldn’t dare let someone beneath his station into his rooms. I would have thought the short hallway with the guards, but—”

“There was nothing there,” I finish.

“Exactly.”

“Wouldn’t there be a queen’s suite next door? Could she be there?”

“She could, but the door doesn’t have its own set of guards, and I doubt Ravis would risk having an interior door between himself and his prisoner.”

“We’re missing something,” I say. A beat of silence passes, before I decide, “We turn around and look again. We must have missed something.”

Kellyn looks wary, but he says nothing. Petrik turns and begins marching back up the stairs.

When we reach the guard stationed there, his eyes narrow. “What’s your business on this floor?”

“We’re looking for a set of rooms,” Petrik says. “Having trouble finding them.”

“Whose rooms?”

Petrik rattles off a name, and I don’t know if he made it up or if he actually knows someone here.

The guard’s gaze tightens. “You look familiar,” he says to Petrik.

A deep sense of dread claws through me. We’re about to be found out. Ravis is going to kill us, and then Temra—

Before the guard can even see it coming, Kellyn swings a fist and knocks the man out. Kellyn catches him before he can fall and props him up against the wall, adjusts his head and arms.

Trying to make it look like he’s sleeping on the job.

“We need to move,” Petrik says.

I’m rooted to the spot, so Kellyn takes my hand once more, pulling me along.

“Relax,” he says. “Try not to look so frightened or we’ll be found out for sure. Do it for Temra.”

I swallow, close my eyes, and breathe, before turning my gaze to the floor.

“That works, too,” Kellyn says.

Petrik halts suddenly, and since I’m looking at my feet, it’s Kellyn who pulls us to a stop behind him.

“Up ahead is that hallway full of guards,” Petrik whispers. “We can’t cross without drawing the same suspicion. There’s too many of them to handle quietly. We’ll be spotted for sure.”

“Any ideas?” Kellyn asks.

“Why are they even there?” Petrik asks to himself, ignoring Kellyn’s question.

“Doesn’t matter,” Kellyn says. “We just need to figure out how to get around them. Is there another way to access the other side of this floor?”

The boys talk quietly, but my mind is picturing that little hallway, remembering it as we passed by. It just ends. No doors. No windows. No nothing. If the six guards are simply waiting for an emergency, then why do they look like they’re on duty?

Why do they look like they’re guarding something, when there’s nothing around them to guard?

Unless there is something there.

And we can’t see it.

“The door’s hidden,” I breathe. Neither boy hears me. So I repeat myself a little louder.

They halt whatever conversation (though let’s be honest, it was probably an argument) they’d been having.

“What do you mean?” Kellyn asks.

“We arrived by way of a magic portal. We’re in search of a magic healer. Isn’t it possible there’s a door down there concealed by magic?”

Petrik blinks slowly. “Of course! I should have guessed that. There’s no other reason for them to be there.”

“It’ll be a risk,” Kellyn says. “If you’re wrong and we engage them, we won’t get a second chance.”