Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(72)

“What are you doing?” Sullivan asked. “You should be resting.”

“There’s no time to rest. I want to talk to the magier before she tries to hurt herself. Can you take me to the dungeon?”

He nodded. “Of course, just let me summon Paloma and some of the guards.”

I stabbed my finger at him. “No—no Paloma, no other guards. We go down there right now. Just you and me. I don’t want anyone else to know what we’re doing.”

His eyes narrowed in understanding. “You think the magier is working with someone inside the palace?”

I once again thought of that hot, jalape?o rage I’d sensed in the throne room, along with that gust of magic when I had tripped and Rhea had almost skewered me with her sword. I hadn’t told anyone what I’d sensed, and I didn’t tell Sullivan about it now. I wanted to keep my suspicions to myself. At least until I knew exactly who wanted me dead and why.

I shrugged, not really answering his question. “I want to know exactly how the weather magier and those fake guards got inside the palace. So can you take me down there?”

He nodded.

“Good. Then let me get dressed.”

*

Ten minutes later, Sullivan cracked open one of the doors to my chambers. He glanced outside, then opened the door the rest of the way, revealing the empty hallway beyond. Serilda, Cho, Paloma, and the Bellonan guards must still be making sure that the servants were safe.

Sullivan and I slipped out of the chambers, hurried along the hallway, and went down a flight of stairs. From there, we crept through the palace, keeping to the shadows and moving from one corridor to the next. Eventually, we ducked into a small alcove filled with gargoyle statues to let a couple of Andvarian guards pass by out in the hallway.

“You’re awfully good at avoiding the guards,” I whispered.

He grinned. “It was a game my brothers and I used to play. Our rooms were in the same hallway, and the three of us would sneak out in the middle of the night. Whoever got the farthest away without getting caught by the guards was the winner. I won more often than not.”

The guards marched by, and we slipped out of our hiding spot and hurried on. We wound our way down several sets of stairs until we reached the dungeon.

Two guards with spears were posted in front of an open archway. There was no way to sneak past them, so we didn’t even try. Sullivan strode forward, his boots snapping against the flagstones, as if he had every right to be here. I walked along behind him, my head ducked and the hood of my midnight-blue cloak pulled up over my hair. I hadn’t put on my crown, so hopefully the guards wouldn’t look too closely and realize who I was.

But the guards definitely recognized Sullivan, and they bowed their heads.

“My prince,” one of the men said. “How may we serve you?”

“I want to see the magier,” Sullivan said in a loud, authoritative voice. “Rhea sent me to see if I can shock some answers out of her.” He held up his hand, and blue lightning flashed on his fingertips.

The guards nodded, lowered their spears, and stepped aside, letting him pass. I ducked my head and followed him. I half expected the guards to stop me, but Sullivan’s order was enough for them to let me through as well.

Just like at Seven Spire, the dungeon here featured several long hallways with cells embedded in the walls, although I couldn’t tell if anyone was languishing inside the small rooms, given the solid metal doors that fronted them.

Sullivan stepped into another hallway and walked down to the far end, where the corridor opened into a much larger room in the very back of the dungeon.

Thick tearstone bars cordoned off part of the space, forming a single cell along one wall. A few dim fluorestones were set into the ceiling, but there was enough light to see the magier lying on a cot in a pool of shadows in the back of the cell.

Sullivan went over and touched a panel in the wall, making the fluorestones blaze to life and flooding the area with light.

“Get up,” he snapped. “It’s time for you to answer some questions.”

But as soon as he said the words, I knew we wouldn’t be getting any answers.

The weather magier was lying on the cot, her hand dangling off the side, right above a glass that was resting on the floor, as though it had slipped out of her fingers. Water had dribbled out of the glass, forming a small pool. Her purple eyes were fixed and frozen open, and black blood had trickled out of her mouth, down the side of her face, and spattered onto the floor next to the glass.

The magier was dead.





Chapter Sixteen


Sullivan yelled for the guards to fetch the bone masters, but it was too late. The magier was as dead as dead could be.

After that, the dungeon became a circus of chaos, with people running around and everyone demanding to know how this had happened.

Captain Rhea was among those who entered the dungeon, and she kept shooting me suspicious glances, as if she thought I had something to do with the magier’s death, even though I’d been unconscious in my chambers when it had happened.

While everyone else ran around, shouting and accusing one another, I stood quietly in the corner, studying the dead magier. Other than the cot and a wooden bucket in the corner that stank of human waste, the only other thing in her cell was the glass on the floor.

My nose twitched. I could smell the soft, sweet lavender, along with a faint undercurrent of rot, in the spilled water. It wasn’t wormroot, but I was pretty sure it was the same poison that Libby had tried to give to me in the Seven Spire throne room, and the same poison that had been on the dagger that she’d used to kill herself.