Page 2 of A Promise of Lies (Shadows of the Tenebris Court #3)

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Bastian

I blinked at my hands. They were clean. No blood, only what was rushing through my ears. But when I rubbed my fingertips together, I could feel the ghost of it slick upon them.

“Bastian.” Asher’s voice, low with warning and close.

It was only then I registered the other voices—whispers in a crowd—and understood where I was. When I was.

The throne room. The final moments of the eclipse. Now, not back then. Years separated me from my father and his final order.

You must live.

I’d tried. Good gods, had I tried.

But here I found myself dying in the throne room once more, insides spilling as another person I loved was taken from me.

No.

Not this time.

There was no blood, but the world was red and my veins burned.

I heard nothing of Braea’s words before she disappeared back into Dusk, ready to succumb to Sleep once the moon finished crossing the sun. But I saw the smirk on Cyrus’s face as he inclined his head and followed the guards as they ushered their “guests” away into Dawn’s side of the palace.

When I’d taken my father’s life, I’d been a boy, powerless to change things. But now…

I strode across the throne room, not towards Dusk, but to Dawn. My body was not my own, but some machine driven by terrible fire. Shadows surged with me, smoky and thick.

The crowd parted, and I dimly registered fearful expressions, but my eyes were fixed on that door where I’d seen Kat and Cyrus disappear.

He was responsible for this. He’d taken her.

Well, he damn well wasn’t going to keep her.

Pale armoured guards tried to bar my way.

Tried .

I charged through them, my shadows and I working as one to pass through the group like they were ghosts.

Perhaps I was the ghost. I moved as easily as one. I barely slowed as I stepped through the lodestone doorway and into Dawn. A second clutch of guards scattered as I shouldered through them.

I caught the glint of golden hair topped with a matching crown and bellowed, “Cyrus!”

He turned, eyes widening for a moment. I wasn’t meant to be in Dawn. Good. Let him be shocked. Afraid. Let him shit his fucking pants.

I was going to kill him.

That fire throbbed in every fibre of my being, making my scar ache.

Then I was face-to-face with him, still striding until my fingers bit into his collar and he slammed against the wall. Metal rang out as his guards drew a dozen weapons.

I didn’t need a weapon. I was going to do this with my bare hands, and, in the meantime, my shadows would hold the guards at bay.

Cyrus gestured for them to stay back, then, slowly, he smiled. “Careful, Bastian. I’m king now.”

I spat out a laugh as shadows simmered around us. “Do I look like I give a shit?” My voice didn’t sound human anymore—it was a feral growl, low and lethal. “What do you think you’re going to do?”

He shrugged around my grip. “I won’t do anything… to you .” There was a dangerous lightness to his voice.

Despite my fury, that tone registered—a needle pushing through me.

He fluttered his lashes, head cocking to one side. “Katherine, on the other hand…”

If his tone was a needle, his words were a punch. The roar of blood in my ears exploded, leaving them ringing, then a solid silence.

I wasn’t the boy I’d once been, no. I had power now. I was the Bastard of Tenebris. The Serpent. I’d served my queen, my country, in a thousand ways big and small. I’d saved lives and taken them.

But I was no king. And with Katherine in Cyrus’s control, I might as well be nothing.

He could have her killed with a word. Hang her with a gesture.

I couldn’t act on instinct. I couldn’t—or at least shouldn’t go racing after Kat or rage against her being taken, even though every part of me, body and soul, demanded it.

“Now, what was it you charged, without permission , into Dawn for?” Cyrus arched his eyebrows and peered down at my fist bunched in his clothing.

I yanked my shadows close and clamped them into submission as I unknotted my knuckles. Taking a step back, I had to swallow down the shards of my rage before I could reply. “Nothing.”

Another slow smile, then he nodded. “That’s what I thought.” He stepped out from between me and the wall, then moved into my space until we were almost nose-to-nose. His smirking amusement disappeared as his eyes locked with mine. “Run along, Bastian. I have new toys to play with. You’ll have to find something else to entertain you.”

The palace and the city passed me by in a hot haze—a strange, distant surreality—as I made my way to the Hall of Healing. I didn’t realise my destination until I found myself staring up at its marble columns. Thank the Stars some part of me was still sane.

They’d gathered the bodies from the attack here for sorting and inspection. Victims’ families—by blood or choice—would come here to identify and claim their loved ones.

But the body I sought wasn’t a victim.

At my terse demand, a younger acolyte nodded and directed me to a staircase that spiralled down.

I followed it round and round, mind and soul spinning faster, further, like they were going to catapult off the planet and disappear into the nothingness of space.

Kat was gone. Taken. Given.

Given willingly .

The knowledge burned. I was a fool.

I thought I had control. I thought I knew the pieces on the board and controlled at least some of them. I thought I had an ally in my queen—someone who would work with me to move the other pieces.

But she had sacrificed the person most precious to me.

Dizziness had hold of me by the time I reached the bottom of the spiral staircase, and I had to grip the handrail to stay upright. I emerged into a dim space that stretched on into darkness.

It took a moment for everything to stop spinning and for me to realise what the shapes were on the floor. Row upon row of bodies.

Elthea’s cream braids swayed above one as she unbuttoned its clothes. A cluster of lights drifted at her shoulder.

Shit. Would’ve been better to do this alone, but at least the cool air eased my head and heart. By the time she looked up and raised her eyebrows, I had some semblance of calm.

“What brings the Serpent down here to play with the dead?”

“Is that what you’re doing? Playing?” I took my time approaching, pretending I was just glancing casually at the arranged bodies. But I had my eye out for one with his head caved in.

I’d ensured no one would recognise my other self’s face, but there hadn’t been enough time to disguise the tattoo covering our back or the scar down our front. All afternoon, I’d been stuck in the palace, so this was my first chance to retrieve him and stop anyone from discovering my ability to split.

Besides, despite my exhaustion, I needed distraction more than I needed sleep.

Elthea’s soft snort drifted into the room’s echoing darkness. This mortuary filled the space under the Hall of Healing and, judging by the pillars stretching into the distance, it had to extend even further than that.

“Not playing, working . Look.” She held up a lock of the dead fae’s hair—almost as black as mine. “And yet…” With surprising gentleness, she pulled open their trousers enough to reveal the hair there. “Blond.” Frowning, she knelt back on her heels.

I took the opportunity to skim the bodies nearest us. The ones behind me were all wrapped in shrouds, with clothes folded in a neat pile; those ahead still wore their battle clothes. Black hair, dark armour, slashes across bellies and chests, blood crusted around the throat. No crushed heads.

“That one”—she pointed to the wrapped body next to us—“had light brown body hair. That one”—she pointed to the next—“had green.”

I blinked from my search to her. “But the Ascendants’ hair was all black.”

She took a long breath and sighed it out. “And I thought the Serpent was meant to be so cunning and clever.”

The instant her scornful look hit me, I understood the relevance. “Dyed. Their hair was dyed.”

“I believe so.” She rolled the body over, checking its back. “I’ll be examining some of the attackers more closely to confirm, but it certainly looks that way. I found dark residue caught in their ears.” She nodded towards a hard leather case containing tiny jars and vials. Their varied contents included a black waxy substance, clippings of different coloured hair, pale flecks, crimson liquid. Specimens.

“You think they’ll tell you more?” I went back to searching for my other self.

Lifting the hair off the neck of the body before her, she gave a cool smile. “They may not wish to, but I’ll make them.”

“Chilling.” I scoffed in an attempt to hide my reaction as I spotted a familiar shape a couple of rows over. The neck disappeared into a pulpy mess.

If she got to that one, peeled off its clothes, and turned it over, she’d find a very distinguishing tattoo on its back. Hells, she’d probably recognise the scar upon our chest before that. After all, she was the one who’d treated that wound and had let it scar rather than healing it completely.

At least when I’d died in Innesol, the Horrors had consumed my other self’s magic, leaving the body unrecognisable. Not that I was going to rush back into Horror territory to search for it.

“I didn’t expect the Serpent to be so affected by death—after all, hasn’t he dealt out plenty of it?”

I jerked my attention from my body and found Elthea looking up at me, one eyebrow arched.

Hadn’t I told Kat to never reveal her heart? Now here I was trying to kill Cyrus one minute and staring after the corpse I was meant to be hiding the next.

“That doesn’t mean I enjoy it.” I shrugged one shoulder, nonchalant. “You have a lot of bodies to examine on your own.”

“Everyone else is helping with the injured and the families. I can be more useful here, however.”

As if on cue, a couple emerged from the spiral staircase and an acolyte walked them to one of the shrouded bodies.

“I could help.”

Her eyes narrowed. I hadn’t played it nonchalant enough. “ You , help me ?”

“I could use the distraction.” Physical work would help, even if it was a task that didn’t require the attention of the Night Queen’s Shadow.

Slowly, she looked me up and down, and I could feel her mentally cataloguing me. “Hmm. I suppose it would be hard not to form an attachment. She has her charms, I’ll grant you.” She canted her head, and I swallowed as I realised she was speaking of Kat. “You shouldn’t worry so much. Her resilience is impressive… for a human.” Wiping her hands, she rose. “Very well. You can help. I’m looking for tattoos, scars, any other identifying marks on the civilians, defenders, or attackers.”

I kept my expression neutral at the mention of scars and tattoos, nodding like an obedient assistant.

“Write a note and leave it with the wrapped body. The civilians and defenders are being set aside so families can collect them for burial.”

Returned to the soil, where their magic could seep back into the land. Elfhame would be stronger, but we were weaker after today.

I’d heard humans used cremation, but we considered it barbaric—something was lost in the burning. But the Convocation had agreed to burn the attacker’s bodies—a last resort to rid ourselves of the enemy taint. And it would help me hide evidence of my secret.

Elthea indicated several wrapped forms that had been offset from the row. “I’m not so interested in them. The Ascendants, though… They could prove to be a treasure trove of information.”

I huffed through my nose. Only Elthea could see a room of dead people and think “treasure.”

“Check their pockets for personal items and search for signs of dye. I could do with more samples of that residue for testing. I want evidence to confirm my theory, and if I get enough, I’ll be able to work out what dye they used.”

She handed me a pad of paper and a pencil before pointing out the empty jars and the small metal implements used to scrape up the residue. In a cart nearby lay folded linens, waiting to be wrapped around bodies once they were undressed and checked.

When I got started, I didn’t make a beeline for my other self’s corpse. Instead, I went to the nearest body in that row—an attacker. Just as I’d observed in the palace, he had black hair and the Hydra Ascendant insignia that didn’t quite match the one Sura had given Kat. No tattoos or notable scars. Yet, as Elthea had observed, his body hair didn’t match. In this case, it was a straw blond—more Dawn than Dusk.

Doubts might’ve trickled in after the fighting had stopped, but Kat had to be right. This was a group mimicking Hydra Ascendant, and alongside the insignias, this was another piece of evidence. As I noted the hair colour, I wondered what Sura would make of the fact someone was impersonating her group to cover their own motivations.

More pressingly, how was I going to broach the implications of the hair dye with Elthea?

If I suggested this was Dawn Court trying to look like Dusk, it would sound like I was trying to shift blame from my own people.

Then again, if she had noticed the dye and was investigating it, did I need to say anything? Better to leave her to identify the truth herself. It was more likely to be accepted coming from Dawn Court, especially such a highly regarded healer known for her scientific approach.

I tried not to think about what her “scientific approach” had led her to do to Kat.

I tried not to think about Kat at all.

But my exhausted mind was a treacherous thing, and as I wrapped the shroud around the body before me, the form seemed shorter, rounder, softer. The phantom scent of spring crept around me.

It isn’t Kat. It isn’t Kat.

I gritted my teeth and told myself over and over.

I was grateful to turn to the next body until I saw this one wore no armour, just the elegant outfit of a servant. Steeling myself, I took in her face. She was familiar, though the last time I’d seen her, she’d worn a warm smile and welcomed me to the royal wedding.

The hot thing that had been slithering through me since Kat’s name had been announced finally quenched. Ice crept into my bones.

An innocent went to work today, likely said goodbye to some loved one, maybe even promised to raise a glass later to celebrate their prince’s marriage. And hours later, here she lay, cold and still, never to keep her promise.

Slowly, I raised my head and the rows stopped being bodies—these were people. Every one of them, even the attackers. I might be Dusk and many of them Dawn, but they were all my people and there were precious few of us left before today. Now…

Our dwindling numbers bent my back.

Hadn’t we learned our lesson from earlier wars? We couldn’t afford to fight amongst ourselves. Not if we wanted to survive.

With a deep breath, I blinked away the burning in my eyes and continued my work. Cataloguing identifying marks, noting names where folk had inscribed jewellery or paperwork in their pockets, checking for evidence Elthea might find useful. Finally, I shrouded each of them as carefully as I would’ve wrapped my own father, if I’d been allowed to.

I didn’t have any feelings left by the time I reached my other self. Or perhaps I had too many and they’d all become one churning mass that I couldn’t raise my head from. I didn’t catalogue the scar. No paperwork was better.

As I wrapped him, still clothed, I vaguely wondered if I should feel some discomfort from handling what was essentially my own body. But there was no space left for that, not when fear for Kat and grief for the dead filled me so completely. It would be two or three weeks before I could split again, but the delay was better than dying outright.

By the time I’d wrapped my other self, I was as cold inside as the bodies surrounding us.

“I know this one,” I called over to Elthea. “I’ll take him.”

She glanced my way and took in the blood soaking into the shroud. “Ah, the one with the crushed head. He’s a defender, then? Hmm.” She nodded and noted something in her book. “I assumed he was one of them. It was a quick death.”

When she sucked in her lips in what was almost an apologetic smile, I realised she was trying to be comforting in her own odd way. Not quite “sorry for your loss” but close.

In return, I cleared my throat and nodded. Not quite “thank you” but close.

An acolyte helped manoeuvre the body into a compartment that would lift it to the ground floor, and from there into one of the Hall of Healing’s charnel carts. I declined their offer of a driver and promised to bring it back when I was finished.

Steering out of the stable yard, I set my face into a hard look that invited no questions and urged the two hinds through the darkening streets.

Then, upon a hillside overlooking the city as it turned to Tenebris, I burned Bastian Marwood.