The Everlasting Rose (The Belles, #2)(51)

Edel’s eyes are fixed on the woman floating in front of us. I abandon the food and stand at Edel’s side.

The woman studies us quietly. “I haven’t seen a Belle up close in some time.”

“It looks that way,” Edel spits out.

“Your commentary doesn’t bother me. I’ve quieted those instincts.”

“Who are you?” I ask.

“I am an Iron Lady,” she replies.

A glimmer of hope springs up inside me. “You’re on our side.”

“What?” Edel says to me.

“You support us.” I press my face against the bars.

“We support our cause, and whatever will help us achieve it.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“And what is that? Locking us up? Why didn’t you summon the guards?” Edel grips the bars. “Why torture us?”

“You call this torture?” She laughs and motions at the basket of food. “At this very moment, our future queen is finalizing her preparations to turn your favored generation into cows, to live in her farm prison where you shall be milked, your power bottled and shipped around the kingdom. The rest she will dole out to every household that can afford it.”

Edel and I exchange glances.

“We are no friends to Sophia. I’ve read your papers. You know that,” I say.

“But you’ve been used as instruments of power. We must ensure you aren’t loyal to her in any way. Proximity to power can distort one’s allegiances, can make you align with something that wishes to use you, just so you can be close to it.”

“And why should we trust you?” Edel says. “You poisoned us and locked us up.”

“Sleeping gas. It wasn’t poison. Many nurseries use it to help babies fall asleep. You took a long nap. Only a few hours,” she says. “We will determine if we can trust each other. You will join me on my dirigible, but once we get to the ground, you must wear these over your head.” She holds up two sacks. “If you refuse, you can stay up here until you change your minds. Quentin will not be returning with more food, and hunger may coax you into making the right decision.”

Edel and I make eye contact. She grits her teeth. But we have no time to argue.

“Yes,” I reply for both of us. “We will come with you.”





She uses a skeleton key to unlock the cell. Edel rushes forward like a storm cloud eager to burst with thunder and lightning and wind. I grab the back of her dress before she reaches the ledge and hold her close. The rage inside her almost seeps through her skin, a humming tuning fork sending ripples out.

We both gaze down into the darkness below, the expanse of it terrifying, a pit to swallow us whole. My mind fills with all the twisted and dangerous things that might await if we took that plunge.

“There’s nowhere to run but straight into the Goddess of Death’s teeth,” the woman threatens.

Edel jerks back, knocking into me. I tighten my grip around her waist. “Calm down. We’re going to get out of here,” I whisper to her. “We will find our way.”

“If you die down here, you become hers.” The woman opens a small door and invites us to board her dirigible. “Ready? Or do you still want to run?”

Edel and I lock eyes, gaining strength from each other, then we ease on board and lower ourselves into two makeshift seats.

“Where are my teacup dragons?” I ask.

“Safe.” The woman reaches up and closes the tiny fire hatch beneath the balloon. “For now.”

“Is that a threat?” I ask.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” she replies.

My stomach swoops as we sink deep into the darkness, the cold wetness turning warmer, the hiss of steam growing louder. When we were little girls, we were told that the Goddess of Beauty hated the Goddess of Death. They’d been sisters who’d fought and fussed over all things until they could no longer exist in this world side by side. Unpopular with the other gods for her unpredictable temper, Death was cast into the depths of the world to hide and deal with the bodies and souls of the dead. The grottos are the entrance to her lair.

We reach a small platform and step off the dirigible. Three masked women approach, gripping burlap sacks, their movements languid like spirits.

My stomach tightens.

“Why is this necessary? It’s not like we can see anything down here,” Edel snaps.

“Edel,” I reply despite my fear. “We agreed.”

“Listen to your sister,” one of the women says, her voice raspy. “She is wise.”

“No one is to know the way in and out of the spiders’ lair,” another says.

I drop my head forward, submitting to the sack. She pulls it over my head. “Good girl,” she whispers.

The light is stamped out and my heart squeezes. Panic starts to overtake me but I try my best to fight it.

Another woman grabs my arm and shoves me forward. We walk along a rocky surface. The scent of water fills my nose, a mixture of the Rose Bayou from home and La Mer du Roi. The hiss of steam muffles our footsteps. Where are they taking us?

I take a deep breath and think of Rémy. He would say, “Pay attention. Be ready. You will be all right.”

Small freckles of light push through the fabric.