Henry whispers the magic words to a plaque beside the stone door, and it slides open. We exit the building. Instead of turning back the way we came, Henry leads me in the opposite direction.
The farther we go down the trail, the wilder and lovelier the scenery becomes. The trail narrows so that I have to huddle against Henry’s side to keep from getting tangled in the ragged vines and roots of overgrown forest. I squint into the wilderness. It’s too wild to be a garden. It looks like the forest has taken over this part of the fort.
“It’s the scenic route,” Henry says, noticing my assessment. “It might not look like much, but this is where the biggest part of the battle for the fort took place.”
I note the reverence in his voice and remember what he said about his sister dying. I wonder if this is where it happened.
“Why here?” I ask. The broken wall must be miles from where we’re walking now. I would have thought the violence would have been at the breach.
Henry hesitates as the trail opens up. The view takes my breath away. There are ruins of what must have been a lost outbuilding. Tingling cold washes over me like I’ve stepped through a specter of what once was.
Moss gathers in the claw marks scored into the crumbling stone and ivy strangles the iron gate that hangs from one hinge.
“Escape routes,” Henry says. “We have them here just like you do in the city. In case the Drained get in?”
I nod. In the city, we have similar strategic plans by gate and area that allow us to efficiently defend less territory in case we’re overcome.
“The last stand is at the manor here. The people were shepherded up here to higher ground during the attack. And this is where most of them fell.”
This is where his sister died.
“I’m sorry.”
His gaze snaps to me, like he thinks I’m teasing, but I mean it. Even if he thinks that my family had something to do with this, even if my familydidhave something to do with this, I can’t imagine losing a sister. Especially since it was just the two of them.
“Thank you,” he says finally. He scrubs a hand over his face. “Anyway, the reason I brought you here is not to relive our sad history. It’s to tell you that in your wandering, you shouldn’t stray beyond this point into the fort forest.”
I stare beyond the crumbling walls into the forest. “Why? What’s over there?”
“Hunt grounds.”
I glance back at him. “For game?”
A wicked smile steals over his face. “No, lovely. Different kind of hunting. For Kennymyra feasts—like tonight.”
My cheeks heat, thinking of the stories of wild sex rituals to honor the Divine of Pleasure that Aidia and I used to overhear when we snuck out to bars.
I rub my arms like I’m cold, hoping to distract from my embarrassment.
He clears his throat. “Let’s get you inside.”
We follow twists and turns through the trails until finally Havenwood House comes back into view.
Henry takes us in through a different door that dumps us into a long, quiet hallway. We turn at the end of the hall and my eyes adjust to the dim room. Shadows dance over three veiled statues in the half-light. The white marble is stark against the black walls, giving them a spectral glow. The beautiful intricacy of the carvings is apparent, even through the veils.
“Beautiful,” I whisper.
“The trio of Kennymyras and Stellarias. My great-great-grandfather made them. They are his life’s work.”
A subtle breeze shifts the red veil on the closest Kennymyra statue. I step forward, expecting Henry to stop me. When he doesn’t, I move so close that the toes of my boots nearly brush the base of the statue. She’slife-size, a bit taller than me, and her face is carved with hooded eyes and a subtle smile.
“Why the veils?” I ask.
“It’s a feast tonight.”
“Can I go?” The question is born out of the childhood fascination of a sheltered girl, not the wise strategy of a grown woman who is here to spy and get critical information.
Between an inhale and exhale, Henry is right behind me. I didn’t even hear him move, but now his firm chest is pressed to my back and his breath ghosts over the shell of my ear.
