They exchanged a wordless nod, Ru knowing with certainty that she was plunging herself and her friends into more trouble than they’d ever encountered, more danger than they could probably contemplate. But if the alternative was cleansing fire… what choice did she have?
Chewing her lip, heart hammering so loudly she thought it would wake the entire Tower, Ru hurried toward the dungeon.
* * *
The dungeon washorrible at night. Cold, echoing, drenched in depthless shadows; every pocket of darkness set Ru’s nerves on edge. She imagined the Children bursting out from the blackness, their eyes dark and shining, and shuddered.
Fumbling to find the nearest lamp, Ru stumbled in the blackness until she managed to light it, the wick catching at last. A steady orange glow lit her way, and she edged toward the center of the dungeon, between the workstations, until the lamplight illuminated the central wooden table.
And there, as always, sat the artifact, wrapped in its blanket.
But tonight, for the first time, the bundle of cloth looked like a threat. With as much care as she could muster with shaking fingers, Ru gathered up the artifact and shoved it into her pack. She hurriedly smothered it with clothes in case she was stopped, in case her pack was searched.
She wished she could leave a fake artifact in its place, shroud something else in a blanket and place it on the table, but she didn’t have another blanket handy and there simply wasn’t time. She should have thought, wished she had time to plan. A seedling of doubt began to grow – was she overreacting? Moving too fast?
No — there was no time to question herself. She was certain of what she knew, certain that Lord D’Luc and the Children were not to be trusted. Worse than that, they were dangerous. Death dressed in angels’ clothes.
Dousing the lamp, her heart still racing, Ru hurried up the stairs and out of the dungeon.
* * *
The walkto the stables from the dungeon wasn’t long, a matter of minutes. But in Ru’s agitated state, in the silence of deep night, it felt interminable.
She stopped at every corner, hugging the walls and clinging to the shadows, convinced she would run into one of the Children at any moment. Despite her terror, she made it all the way to the Tower’s main entrance without coming across another soul. The front vestibule, high-ceilinged and lanced with moonlight, might have struck her as peaceful at any other time. Instead, it made her shiver, the silence of it, the shadows.
Ru crept forward and unlocked one of the great double doors, pushing it open just enough to squeeze through. Then, turning, she eased it closed behind her. With luck, nobody would notice that the door had been unlocked in the night.
Then she spun, readying herself to dash through the courtyard to the stables. And found herself face to face with Inda.
Ru’s heart stopped.
The woman in white caught Ru’s gaze with her empty one, her robes billowing up in a night breeze.
“Miss Delara,” Inda said, unruffled as ever. “What brings you to the courtyard at this time of night?”
Ru grasped for words. She considered bolting, pushing past the woman to the stables, and fleeing on horseback. But she couldn’t abandon her friends, couldn’t separate them. And all Inda had to do was raise the alarm — Ru wouldn’t get far. She would have to lie, then. But what would Inda believe? What did Inda know of Ru that would convince her this was an innocent walk, taking the air, nothing more?
The artifact seemed to weigh a thousand pounds in her pack. Inda would know it was there. Surely she would suspect.
She would guess.
“Last I heard,” Inda went on when Ru didn’t answer immediately, “you were sick in bed.”
“I was,” stammered Ru, “but I felt a little better. I came out for some fresh air.”
“With a bulging pack over your shoulder, I see.” She blinked. “Why?”
Ru’s breath came in shallow gulps, she was unable to think, it would be impossible to lie convincingly. “I…” she swallowed. “I was…”
“She was meeting me.”
Both Ru and Inda turned to see who had spoken.
Ru knew the moment she’d heard the first word, but couldn’t allow herself to believe it. Not until she saw him, not until she was sure.
It was Fen.
CHAPTER38
