Within These Wicked Walls(68)
As she stepped through the doorway, Saba shifted to hugging me against her body with one arm, and I took the opening to throw my head back into her face. There was a frightening, though at the moment satisfying, shinctk. Something skimmed past my shoulder and cracked on the floor, but it didn’t stop Saba’s task of forcing me to sit on the stairs.
“You’re really not going to let me leave?” I asked stupidly.
Saba was just standing from picking up the quarter of face I’d knocked off when I looked at her. Cracks had spread up her neck, over her shoulders, from when I had been kicking her. There was a gaping hole in her face, but her frustrated glare was still readable as she went about putting the broken piece back in its spot.
My heart was still racing, but enough panic had subsided to make room for embarrassment. “Sorry I broke your face,” I murmured. “And stabbed you in the back.”
Her response was to brush sand out of my hair, gently and attentively, before lifting me effortlessly and carrying me up the stairs.
I fought the urge to breathe deeply, to soothe my pulse. There was no more panic, maybe, but I needed the adrenaline. I needed the strength. Because as soon as Saba shut me into my room I opened the window. I couldn’t see down to the bottom, as if a void were swallowing the castle whole, but it couldn’t have been any higher than the wall to the city. I took off my shoes so I could better navigate the stone and lowered myself out, feeling for small cracks to grip into.
It was as easy as I thought it’d be. Crossing the desert wouldn’t be, but what choice did I have? Attempting to wrangle one of those horses would only get me caught.
I didn’t linger, my adrenaline taking over for me as I ran in the direction of the city.
* * *
The alleys were eerily empty, which was good because I felt heavy on my feet, my breath loud to my own ears. I wiggled through the grate at the back of the church and rushed through the still-messy entrance area, straight to the bed. I collapsed onto it, gasping. Jember wasn’t home. That was normal, if he was working, but still, it crushed me. I didn’t expect Jember to offer any comfort, anyway, but I also didn’t come here to be alone.
No Andi. You came here to hide.
I’d abandoned Magnus.
I never said good-bye to Saba.
You’re a coward.
I pressed my face into the pillow and cried myself to sleep.
CHAPTER 27
Magnus sat in a puddle of blood. Naked, shivering. Covered in it. When I stepped closer he looked up at me, tears streaming down his face.
“Andromeda…”
The voice soothed and scared me, drove me on and killed me at once. “I’m here, Magnus.”
“You left me…”
“I-I’m sorry. I was afraid.” I blinked at tears, and swiped my eyes with the back of my hand.
But when I looked at him again his eyes were glowing a bright, unnatural green. His fingernails crept longer and longer into claws with a grinding that made my bones quake.
“I will give you something to fear…” As he spoke, his teeth grew to fangs, tearing through the corners of his lips to spill more blood on the ground. I stumbled back as he leaned forward, as he lunged—
My eyes shot open, my hands aching from gripping the edge of my childhood bed. “Magnus!”
Instead of an answer I heard the cellar door creak. The slap of sandals, a boot, and a slightly more metallic, heavier tap on the stairs. Jember wasn’t alone.
I didn’t know what kind of mood he would be in—depended on whether he’d been out all night drinking or working. And I probably shouldn’t let the other person catch me in here. But I didn’t have the will in me to move from this spot. Or care, for that matter.
“Andromeda…”
Magnus.
His sweet voice echoed in my empty, cavernous heart, and I squeezed my eyes to force it away.
The footsteps stopped before coming into the room.
“Get me a salt slab,” I heard Jember say.
“You mean carve it from the desert?” asked a boy’s voice. He sounded tired, and I felt a small twinge of irrational jealousy mixed with relief. A new mentee meant Jember was making a steady living, at least, even if it also meant I’d have to share the room with one more. “But we’ve already been out all night. And I don’t know how—”
“Are you complaining, boy?”
“N-no, sir—”
“I’ve decided I need five slabs, now.”
“B-but—”
“Ten. Another word out of you and I’ll split your head open, instead.”
The only response was quick footsteps up the stairs.
The poor boy didn’t know what he’d signed up for. I let out a breath of laughter before sinking into misery again.
I heard the cellar door creak shut, the chain clinking as he turned the key in the lock. After a minute a weight dipped down the flimsy mattress at my back as Jember sat on the side of the bed.
“Andi.”
Jember’s voice was gruff, comforting because it meant I was home, but not attempting to soothe me in any way. Not my Magnus. Not my imagination. But it felt like a dream, anyway. He didn’t sound drunk. Or smell it. He smelled like incense, sharp and herby, and the subtle undercurrent of sweat. It was strange how much I’d missed that smell.