From Blood and Ash(19)

I crossed the space and went to the door, finding it unlocked when I turned the handle. Before I could really think about what I was doing and where I was, I slipped inside, grateful that the wall sconces cast a soft glow throughout the room.

The settee was gone, the space bare. Accent chairs remained, as did the round coffee table with some sort of floral arrangement neatly placed in the center. I crept forward, unsure of what I was even looking for, and wondering if I’d even know if I found it.

Other than the missing furniture, nothing seemed out of place, but the room felt oddly cold, as if a window had been open, but there were no windows on this side of the banquet hall.

What had Malessa been doing in here? Reading a book or waiting for one of the other Ladies in Wait or perhaps Lady Isherwood? Or had she snuck in here to meet with someone she trusted? Had she been blindsided by the attack?

A shiver danced down my spine. I wasn’t sure what was worse—being betrayed or blindsided.

Actually, I did know. Being betrayed would be worse.

I stepped forward, stopping short as I glanced down. Something was behind the leg of one of the chairs. Bending down, I reached under the chair and picked up the object. My head tilted as I ran a thumb over the smooth, soft white surface.

It was…a petal.

My brows knitted as the scent reached me. Jasmine. For some reason, my stomach roiled, which was odd. I normally liked the smell.

Rising, I looked to the vase and found the source. Several white lilies were spaced throughout the arrangement. No jasmine. Frowning, I looked down at the petal. Where did this come from? I shook my head as I walked over to the bouquet, placing the petal in with the rest of the flowers as I gave the room one last look. There was no blood on the cream carpet, something that would’ve definitely stained if it had spilled.

I had no idea what I was doing. If evidence had been found, it had been removed, and even if it hadn’t been, I didn’t have experience in this. I just wanted to be able to do something or to find anything that would put our worst fears to rest.

But there was nothing to be done or found here other than what was most likely reality, and what did I believe about truth? That it often could be terrifying, yes. But with truth came power.

And I was never one to hide from the truth.





I’d made it back my room that morning without any issues and ended up remaining in it the entire day, which wasn’t exactly all that different from any other day.

Tawny had stopped by briefly, until one of the Mistresses summoned her. No one was sequestered, but I thought that the attack would at least slow down the preparations for the Rite.

Obviously, that was a silly thought. I doubted the Earth shaking would get in the way of the Rite.

I spent a lot of time thinking about what had happened to Malessa. And the more I thought about why the Duke would lie about the attacker being a Descenter, the more it started to make sense. Just like Phillips, the guard from the Rise, hadn’t wanted to talk about Finley’s death to stop panic and fear from taking root and spreading.

But it didn’t explain why the Duke wasn’t being honest with the Royal Guard. If there was an Atlantian among us, the guards needed to be prepared.

Because while the Ascended were powerful and strong, the Atlantians were too, if not more.

Shortly before dusk, Rylan knocked on my door. “You want to try for the garden? I thought I would ask.”

“I don’t know.” I glanced at the windows. “You think it will be okay?”

Rylan nodded. “I do.”

I really could use the fresh air and time away from my own thoughts. It just seemed… I wasn’t sure. As if it weren’t even twenty-four hours after Malessa had been killed, yet it was like any other evening.

“You don’t have to stay in here,” Rylan said, and I glanced back to him. “Not unless that’s what you want to do. What happened last night, with the poor girl and with the Lord, has nothing to do with what you find joy in.”

A small smile tugged at my lips. “And you’re probably tired of standing in the hall.”

Rylan chuckled. “Possibly.”

I grinned as I stepped back. “Let me get my veil.”

It took only a few minutes for me to don the headdress and become ready. This time, there were no interruptions as we made our way to the garden. However, there were servants who did the stop-and-stare thing, but as I continued down the path of one of my favorite places on the grounds of the castle, my worries and obsessive thoughts slipped away like they always did. While I was in the sprawling garden, my mind calmed, and everything and anything ceased to nibble away at me.

I wasn’t thinking about Malessa and the Atlantian who’d gained access to the castle. I wasn’t haunted by the image of Agnes holding her husband’s limp hand or what had happened in the Red Pearl with Hawke. I wasn’t even thinking about the upcoming Ascension and what Vikter had said. In the Queen’s Garden, I was simply…present instead of being caught up in the past or the future full of what-ifs.

I wasn’t sure why the gardens were called what they were. As far as I knew, it had been a very long time since the Queen had been to Masadonia, but I guessed the Duke and Duchess had named it after her as some sort of homage.

Never once while I lived with the Queen had I seen her step foot in the lush gardens of the palace.

I glanced over at Rylan. Normally, the only threat he may face was an unexpected rain shower, but tonight, he was more alert than I’d ever seen him in the garden. His gaze continuously scanned the numerous pathways. I used to think these trips bored him, but never once had he complained. Vikter, on the other hand, would’ve grumbled about literally anything else we could’ve been doing.

Come to think of it, Rylan might actually enjoy these outings, and not just because he wasn’t standing in the hall outside my room.

A cool wind whipped through the garden, stirring the many leaves and lifting the edge of my veil. I wished I could remove the headdress. It was transparent enough for me to see, but it did make traveling at dusk and beyond in low-lit places a bit difficult.

I made my way past a large water fountain that featured a marble and limestone statue of a veiled Maiden. Water poured endlessly from the pitcher she held, the sound reminding me of the rolling waves, crashing in and out of the coves of the Stroud Sea. Many coins shimmered under the water, a token to the gods in hopes that whatever the wisher wanted would be granted.

I neared the outer most parts, which fed into a small but thick outcropping of jacaranda trees that camouflaged the inner walls that kept Castle Teerman separated from the rest of the city. The trees were tall, reaching over fifty feet, and in Masadonia, bold, lavender-colored, trumpet-shaped flowers blossomed all year round. Only during the coldest months, when snow threatened, did the leaves fall, blanketing the ground in a sea of purple. They were breathtaking, but I appreciated them not just for their beauty but also for what they provided.

The jacaranda trees hid the crumbling section of the wall that Vikter and I often used to leave the grounds unseen in order to access Wisher’s Grove.

I stopped in front of the mass of intertwined vines that crawled up and over interlocking wooden trellises as wide as the jacaranda trees were tall. Glancing up at the rapidly darkening sky, I then fixed my gaze ahead.

Rylan came to stand behind me. “We made it in time.”

The corners of my lips tilted up before my grin faded. “We did tonight.”

Only a few moments passed, and then the sun conceded defeat to the moon. The last rays of sunlight pulled away from the vines. Hundreds of buds scattered over the vines trembled and then slowly peeled open, revealing lush petals the shade of a starless midnight.

Night-blooming roses.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled the faintly sweet aroma. They were at their most fragrant upon opening and then again at dawn.

“They are quite beautiful,” Rylan commented. “They remind me—” His words ended in a strangled grunt.

Eyes flying open, I spun around, and a scream of horror knotted in my throat as Rylan staggered backward, an arrow protruding from his chest. A look of disbelief marked his features as he lifted his chin.

“Run,” he gasped, blood trickling from the corner of his lips. “Run.”





Chapter 7





“Rylan!” I rushed to his side, throwing an arm around him as his legs crumpled. His weight was too much, and when he fell, I went down with him, my knees cracking as they hit the pathway. The impact didn’t register as I pressed my hands around Rylan’s wound, trying to stanch the flow of blood. I opened my senses to him, expecting to feel pain. “Rylan—”

Whatever words I was about to say died on my tongue, tasting of ash.

I…I felt nothing, and that wasn’t right. He’d have to be in so much pain, and I could help that. I could take his pain, but I felt nothing, and when I looked at his face, I didn’t want to see what I saw. His eyes were open, gaze fixed yet unseeing on the sky above. I shook my head, but under my hands, his chest didn’t move.

“No,” I whispered, blood turning to ice and slush. “Rylan!”

There was no answer, no response. Underneath him, a pool of blood spread across the walkway, seeping into the symbols etched into the stone. A circle with an arrow piercing the center. Infinity. Power. The Royal Crest. I pressed down on his chest, my trembling hands soaked with blood, refusing to believe—