Within These Wicked Walls(91)

“Are you?”

“I’m not sure how to feel.” I looked at Jember and Saba again, linked even in death, and … it was so tragically beautiful. But maybe the fact I could feel that instead of numbness was a good sign. “We should … clean up the blood.”

“Not now.” Magnus grabbed my shoulders with blanket-covered hands. “Give yourself a minute to mourn, at least.”

“There’s no point in crying.”

“What is that?” He lifted my chin so I’d look at him. “Another survival habit? You don’t need to suppress your humanity anymore, Andromeda … as if I’d ever let you live on the streets again.”

I let out a breath of laughter, but it felt strange, considering the circumstance. The emotion was weighing on me, but I couldn’t cry. I had to keep a clear head. How could I ever bear to clean my father’s body if I—

“What’s that smell?” Magnus inhaled a few times, quickly. “Smoke?”

It only took that one word to strike my memory. I’d knocked over candles earlier … and the Evil Eye was no longer making the wood immune. “Fire!”

I ran to the hall we’d started in, Magnus on my heels. Bright flames had enveloped the far end of it already and, with the amount of wood in the house, it wouldn’t be long until it reached us.

“My sketchbooks!” Magnus cried.

“Forget the books.” I dragged him in the opposite direction. “We have to get to the stable.”

“Wait, I need clothes—”

“You can’t go upstairs, the house is on fire.”

“My first public appearance in three years can’t be in a blanket.”

I tripped to a stop on seeing the open door where Jember and Saba still sat, for a brief moment considering bringing them. They’re dead, Andi. They would have to be buried here, with the rest of the memories.

But Magnus must’ve had my same initial thought, because I had to drag him back before he could get to the office.

“I can’t leave Saba here,” he begged, forming tears making his eyes glisten. My eyes were tearing too, but for a totally different reason. The smoke was spreading quickly, and there wasn’t much time before the fire would follow.

“She’s gone, Magnus. It’s an empty shell.” I grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and dragged him down to my eye level. “Listen to me. If we don’t get out of here we’ll be dead, too. Do you know how to ride a horse?”

“I haven’t ridden in three years.”

“Good enough.” I took his hand and we ran outside to the stable.

We’d lingered too long. The near-moonless night was now glowing red, flames shattering the windows, licking the stone castle black. The horses must’ve sensed something was wrong, because when we threw the stable door open they sounded upset, although I couldn’t see anything. I used my pen to light the closest lamp, and the room was suddenly haunted by elongated shadows of panic.

“Stay back, Andi!” Magnus shouted, rushing up to a stall and opening it wide for a horse before rushing to the next one. I don’t know if it quite knew what to do with the information now, but it would if the fire got any closer.

I grabbed Magnus before he could unlatch another one. “I’ll do this. You get a horse for us.”

I released the other horses—seven in total—then went to help Magnus, who had gotten reins onto the archbishop’s horse but was still strapping the saddle.

“We don’t need one,” I said.

“Are you out of your mind?” He yelped, wincing at the sound of something inside the house crashing down. “I’m already wearing a blanket for a skirt, I don’t also want a sore backside.”

“A sore backside is the least of our worries right now!”

Magnus tightened the saddle, then gave me a boost onto the horse, climbing up behind me and taking the reins. We rode away from the heat into the natural cool of the desert night, the other horses following our lead, the flames cleansing all the memories and pain of that castle just as well as any amulet.





EPILOGUE


I gripped Magnus’s hand, barely processing it as I stared at the doors to my childhood home. It had been a month since I’d last been here. A month since Magnus and I left the castle behind … a month since I’d lost a father and a friend.

Magnus adjusted the lay of the amulets around his neck—the very same ones that had cleansed him of the Evil Eye. “You can’t be serious, Andi. This is where you lived?”

I couldn’t bear to answer. Instead, I crouched in the dirt, wedging my knife into the keyhole, and released the lock with my hand before twisting the blade with both hands. The lock popped open, along with a row of metal thorns along the edge of it—a booby trap, designed to release when anything that wasn’t the exact shape of the sole key tried to turn it.

I grinned. Welcome home, Andi.

Magnus started coughing as soon as I opened the double doors. I couldn’t blame him—the air inside was thick with dust, so much so I was sure that attempting to light a candle would set the atmosphere ablaze. His eyes were wide as he said, “We can’t go in there.”

I could picture Saba giving me a knowing, feisty look at her son’s protests. She would’ve followed me in without a second thought. God, my sweet friend … I’d never had such a mutually supportive relationship. I was glad she was at peace, but I missed her presence keenly.