“She’s twice my height,” Cora says.
Sebastian doesn’t respond. He’s already through the door, and I’m left with a sinking feeling I won’t like his idea one bit.
I don’t knowwhere exactly we are in Sebastian’s manor. He’s taken so many twists and turns, I have no idea where we’ve ended up. We stand in the middle of a gaping room, devoid of furniture. It looks like a ballroom, only without the elaborate decor and fancy chandeliers. The only light here comes from the windows. They stretch along the left wall, filtering in the final rays of an orange sunset.
Outside, Cora stands with a collection of Sebastian’s henchmen. The pretty brunette and the old man who guard my cell. Two men I’ve never seen. A short black woman with blood-red lipstick. They all stare at me through the elongated windows, whispering amongst themselves. Despite everything Cora’s told me, they’re standing outside in direct sunlight.
“Shouldn’t they be on fire?” I ask, casting an accusatory glower at Sebastian.
He looks at Cora and his followers, frowning, before addressing me.
“I see Cora has been educating you on the sun curse,” he says.
“Hard to break something if I don’t know it exists.”
I expect him to point out I’vestillyet to break it, even knowing it exists. He only nods toward the vampires watching me.
“Cora fixed us sunwalker spells,” he says. “Sorry to disappoint you, love, but I won’t be catching fire anytime soon.”
“Thatisdisappointing,” I agree.
I cross my arms over my chest and do a slow rotation, taking in the room’s details. The floors are wooden and scratched. The walls white and void of decoration. The onlycolor comes from the window drapes, but they’re all pulled to the side for my outside viewers.
“Does everyone have one?” I ask.
“No,” Sebastian says. “It’s a difficult spell.”
He looks toward the door, as if expecting someone to appear. My stomach twists, hard as I try to ignore it. I already know something bad is going to happen. I know he’s arranged something horrible to spur my magic, but I can only hope he’s not about to risk my life.
That’d be a complete waste, right? I won’t be breaking any curses if I’m dead.
“Sebastian—”
“They’ve returned,” he says, straightening.
I follow his gaze to the doorway. It’s the only exit out of this gaping room, and though Sebastian seems to have heard something, I can’t. Even as I strain my ears, I hear only the sound of my racing heart.
“Remember, you are a Pruce,” Sebastian says.
Without another word, he strides for the door, gesturing for me to remain in the center of the room.
“At least tell me what’s about to happen,” I say. My hands fidget at my sides, and I glance over my shoulder, at my outside audience. They’re all wide eyed and motionless now.
By the time I look back to Sebastian, he’s already disappeared from the room.
He makesme wait for hours. The sun has fallen, casting the room in horrible darkness. Only three of the wall lanterns are lit, and their pathetic fire isn’t enough to fully light the room. I’m surrounded by shadows and my ownfrantic thoughts. The outside spectators are my only company, and they’ve barely looked away since Sebastian left.
They know something is coming for me, and they’re determined not to miss the show.
I use the time to practice magic, or at least, totryto practice. I end up with my hands dangling in front of me, useless and powerless as ever, until finally, the sole door opens. I’m unexpectedly hit with a wave of relief. What’s coming must be terrible, but at least this is almost over.
“Sebastian?” I call. I try to sound brave. Annoyed, rather than terrified. “I want another day. Give me another day with Cora?—”
Something moves in the doorway. It’s too dark to make out its features, but I know it’s not Sebastian. It’s not a vampire or a witch or anything human at all. It’s too tall, too thin, to be a person.
I suck in a startled breath at the way it moves. Spindly legs, bent at sharp angles, jolting it through the shadows. I stumble backward, keeping my eyes locked on the creature. I don’t stop until I hit the far back corner.
A flicker of candlelight highlights the creature’s face, just for a second. It has a bald, vaguely humanoid head and wholly black eyes. Shiny and reflective, like a dead TV screen. Pallid skin covers its entire body, stretched so tight it looks translucent. And while the upper body is similar to a human’s naked torso, with arms and a heaving ribcage, its lower half is monstrous. Eight gaunt legs, longer than I am tall, lurch toward me, the sharp ends stabbing into the hardwoods with each step.
