Page 17 of A Promise of Lies (Shadows of the Tenebris Court #3)

16

Kat

T he fae light was so dim compared to the main corridor, it took a long while for my eyes to grow accustomed to the gloom. The passage stretched left and right, so narrow I could touch one side with my shoulder and the other with my elbow. It had to be hidden within the walls.

It was slow going in the low light. Following his directions, I trailed my fingertips along the wall. With long, deep breaths, I placed each step carefully, even as cobwebs tickled my face. Stopping, I wiped them off in silence. I couldn’t risk making a noise and attracting attention from someone in one of the rooms I passed.

Muffled voices broke the quiet, and I sucked in a silent breath, pausing, listening. I couldn’t make out the words and it quickly became clear they weren’t here in the passage with me, but in one of the rooms beyond.

I edged onwards and the voices grew clearer.

“—must be a reason the spymaster hasn’t made themselves known to me.” Cyrus’s tone was clipped, edged with impatience. “It’s been two weeks since I ascended to the throne. You must’ve told them.”

“I don’t know who they are, Your Majesty. And what would I tell them? I helped you as my prince before you were my king. That’s all.” A woman’s voice I recognised, but couldn’t quite put my finger on.

I crept closer. My pulse grew deafening in my ears. While Bastian was widely known as Dusk’s spymaster, the identity of Dawn’s had always been kept a secret. Whoever they were, it sounded like they were also keeping it secret from their new king.

“And you didn’t betray my father?” Cyrus barked a laugh. “Silly me, I must be misremembering. Because I thought you’d taken my money and planted my spy at the human court. Are you calling me a liar, Adra?”

I froze. His spy. UnCavendish?

“No, Your Majesty. Of course I would never.”

She went on, trying to appease him, but I was spinning, falling under the weight of what Cyrus had just revealed.

I’d known Adra had helped procure the pearlwort necklace unCavendish had given me, but as the former king’s assistant, I’d assumed that meant Lucius was behind the changeling.

Adra had been working for Cyrus all along.

The foolish prince who preened and tossed his hair like a boy playing at hero had been plotting far more deeply and for far longer than I’d ever imagined.

But it made sense. Lucius had understood the delicate balance between Dusk and Dawn. He wouldn’t have risked that by having Bastian poisoned, even in Albion where he could’ve blamed a jilted human lover like yours truly. No. He’d been far more patient, far more prudent than that.

But Cyrus?

Yes. That was absolutely something he would do. No wonder unCavendish always had it in for Bastian—he was acting on the orders of a master who hated Bastian.

Shit. I needed to warn him. Despite the fake Hydra Ascendant attacks, I had the impression Bastian still didn’t take Cyrus entirely seriously, but in light of this, he needed to be careful.

I shook my head and leant into the wall, hungry for more. The conversation was so clear, there had to be a spy hole or hidden grate somewhere to let the sound through.

When I extinguished the fae light and looked off into the darkness, I caught in my periphery the faintest sliver of light. I groped for it and found a heavy velvet flap hiding a spy hole. On tiptoes, I peered through.

Cyrus sat at his desk, feet on it, arms folded, glaring at Adra, who stood with her head bowed. But she wasn’t shaking and her face showed no fear, rather she seemed to be patiently waiting.

“Enough,” Cyrus huffed. “I see I shall have to continue waiting for our spymaster. Perhaps they are simply tardy with making themselves known for me. I’ll ensure they’re punished for such insolence. You would do well to remember the price for revealing our earlier arrangement.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Good.” He sat up as though ready to get down to business and I pressed against the spy hole, ready to hear more secrets. “As for other matters, we need to?—”

A knock sounded at the door, reverberating through the walls.

With a huff, Cyrus called, “Enter.”

And in walked Sepher. “Adra.” He nodded in greeting, then jerked his chin at the door. “My brother and I have a lot to discuss. Bring us some drinks, would you?” His eyes turned straight to me, and my breath caught. “I suspect we’ll be occupied for some time.”

Meaning Cyrus’s suite would be empty and this was my chance to explore.

I lowered the velvet drape and whispered for the fae light to return before continuing along the dark passage.

Sepher really was helping me. If he wanted me in trouble, that would’ve been the perfect moment—I’d have been caught red handed.

As he’d hinted, turnings went off to my right, but I ignored them and continued straight, though I did peer down one, sending the fae light ahead to reveal it. Even narrower, it continued for maybe fifteen feet, then two more passages branched off. Further ahead it branched again.

This place was a labyrinth.

Calling the light back to me, I resumed my course along the main path, trying not to think about getting lost in the walls. I hadn’t seen any other doorways yet. This place could easily become a tomb.

The passage turned and as I batted more cobwebs away from my face, it took me a long moment to realise my foot hadn’t connected with the ground. I gasped so hard, I choked. On instinct, my arms shot out, and I somehow wedged myself in place.

The fae light drifted around me and I blinked into the gloom, trying to make sense of my surroundings. My heart jolted as I understood what the shapes meant.

A sheer drop stretched below me into pure darkness. One foot hung over the gap, while I held my weight on my forearms, pressing into the walls.

Dread stole over me, colder than ice. For a second, I was dangling over Dia’s grave, the scent of damp soil filling my nose.

I squeezed my eyes shut, like that would help blot out an image that was only in my mind, and pressed harder into the walls, the stone unyielding and rough against my fingertips as I searched for a handhold.

I’m not there. That was a long time ago.

Rough walls. The cool, still air. Sweat tricking from my armpit down my side.

Here and now.

The threatening memories ebbed away and I drew a long, steadying breath. Shoulders burning, I eased backwards until my weight was on the foot left on solid ground and I could step away from the pit.

I sagged against the wall. “Fucking Sepher,” I panted. Watch your step ? Good fucking gods, that was not enough of a warning.

Thankfully, the pit wasn’t wide, easy enough for me to jump over, but just big enough that someone fumbling along in the dark who didn’t know the passageways would fall victim to it. That “someone” had very nearly been me.

I shuddered but picked myself up, dusted off the cobwebs, and jumped across the gap.

Prince or not, next time I saw Sepher, I was going to murder him.

I continued along the passage without further incident until I reached the dim outline of a door in the stone wall. Some squinting and feeling around revealed a small sun carved into the stone, which indented under my fingertip, just as the ivy leaf had under Sepher’s, and sent the door swinging out into a lavishly decorated bedroom.

If there was any doubt about whose room this was, the huge, golden sunburst radiating from the headboard would’ve laid that to rest, along with the cloud-like drapes hanging around it. I took a moment to admire the way the fabric billowed like real clouds. Fae magic would never grow old to me.

Not trusting the secret passage after the pit incident, I wedged a marble statuette in the door to stop it closing behind me and only then did I set forth to explore King Cyrus’s rooms.