Page 23 of A Promise of Lies (Shadows of the Tenebris Court #3)

22

Kat

I sat at Cyrus’s side, still smiling faintly at some joke he’d made, when a servant handed me a plate of chocolate cake. Something else, though, dug into my palm beneath the plate. A tiny, folded piece of paper.

My heart dipped as Cyrus grabbed my hand. I barely managed to slip the note between my fingers. Please, gods, don’t let him notice it .

He held my gaze as he pressed a kiss to my knuckles, like a knight in a tale of old when chivalry ruled and women were prizes to be won.

“ Oh .” I made the sound as though overcome and looked away. Across the table from me, I caught Caelus’s eye for a beat, and my face grew hot. At least the blush would help sell the story that I was so affected by Cyrus.

“Such a sweet little thing.” The king smirked, placing my hand on my own thigh before covering it with his own. His fingertips grazed through the light silk of my skirts, and I forced myself still, even though every shred of muscle in me screamed to get away. “So innocent-seeming, and yet I bet you’re much more fun than you let on.” He leant close, blue eyes like a cloudless winter sky. “I can’t wait to peel back all the layers of stuffy human civilisation you dress up in.”

I needed to keep as many of those layers for as long as possible. But I also needed to let him see tantalising little glimpses to keep his interest.

So, I bit my lip and looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes as though both frightened and intrigued by his words.

The rest of the meal, he leant close, watching me eat the cake, smirking when I licked a crumb from my lip. It was only when I finished that I excused myself and went to the nearest bathroom to read the note.

To the dungeons.

Just three words, but they were written in Kaliban’s hand. What the hells was he doing writing to me here? And summoning me to the palace dungeons?

Shit. What had happened? Had he been forced to go out and been overcome by other people’s thoughts? Maybe he’d hurt someone by accident, lashing out as he tried to escape. He’d come to rely on me and now I was stuck here, unable to help him.

The cake sat in my stomach, heavy, but I hurried towards the only stairs I knew that led to the dungeons. I ran down them, sweaty and half sick by the time I got to the bottom. Panting, I stared at the black stone door before me.

No guards.

Strange. The dungeons were meant to be a lodestone, or so I thought. Lodestones were always guarded.

I wasn’t going to kick this piece of luck in the teeth, so I hurried through. That was where I found the guards, and I stiffened as they eyed me in the flickering lantern-light. But these weren’t Dawn’s guards. They wore the mid grey of a dull day and as many of them had Dusk Court coloured hair like black and deep twilight blue as Dawn colours like green and golden blond.

They also didn’t try and stop me, just indicated a corridor to the left and stared ahead.

I followed their vague directions, the hair at the back of my head on end. Any moment, they were going to turn on me. This had to be a trap. It felt too easy.

There was no decoration here, just bare stone and wall lanterns with flame rather than fae lights. I passed doors with metal bars and the sickly feeling in my stomach doubled. They had to be iron, just like prison bars in Albion. That explained the use of fire rather than magical lighting. The sweat from hurrying down here grew cold.

At the end of the corridor, a pair of guards stood at the top of another set of stairs. They nodded me onward.

Three more levels I passed until at last a guard pointed me towards the cell at the far end, then turned and left. Down here, the lanterns were less frequent, with darkness pooling between them, and the cells were set back from the corridor, leaving shadowy recesses at their entrances.

Dread an icy cloak around me, I approached the final cell. I knew what I would see before I got there, but it was still horrible seeing Kaliban’s pale face the wrong side of the bars.

Someone else had beaten me here, a form in the shadows.

“Wait— Bastian ? What are you doing here?”

He turned, doing a double take. “What am I …? What are you doing here?”

We spun on Kaliban, who spread his hands. “Well, this isn’t how I planned to tell you both, but… Kat, I’m Bastian’s athair . And, Bastian, yes, I know your beloved and I approve. Greatly, in fact.”

Bastian’s father. The one whose dreams of Innesol and the Horrors had infiltrated Bastian’s memories. That meant… The carved wooden stags and hinds on the shelves. The extra pair of slippers. They were his dead husband’s, who’d bred deer in the palace stables and taught Bastian all he knew of them. Who Bastian had killed.

I rounded on Kaliban. “You knew who I was with and you didn’t tell me ?” I said through gritted teeth. “If you weren’t locked up, I’d be fucking fuming with you right now.”

“You sound rather angry with me as it is.”

I gave him a level glare. “Imagine how much worse it could be.”

“What the fuck have you done?” The words came out of Bastian with quiet fury. “If I find out you’ve hurt her, I’ll?—”

Kaliban gave a derisive snort. “Not everyone is as out to get you as you believe, Bastian. We don’t have time to dwell on the good fortune that brought this fine young woman into my life.”

I didn’t know whether to be touched by his words or concerned that he was being nice rather than sarcastic. Whatever he’d been arrested for, it had to be bad.

“But,” he went on, “rest assured, none of it was so I could cause her any harm.” He met my gaze and gave the slightest nod.

It was for me to decide what I told Bastian.

I squeezed his arm, ready to give him a shake if he didn’t calm down. “We met by chance. Kaliban helped me with my magic.”

“And now”—Kaliban nodded—“I need your help.”

Bastian blasted a sigh. “You can say that again. He was caught ‘consorting with shapechangers’ and now they’re accusing him of having a part in Lucius’s assassination.”

Kaliban clicked his tongue. “Not for that. I need you to fetch something from my house. The magic there knows you—it will let you in.”

I shifted, unsure of the idea of entering without him.

“You’re being loud.” He raised one eyebrow and I smoothed my thoughts in the way that made it more comfortable for him.

Bastian gave me a sidelong look but remained silent.

Kaliban came to the barred window in the door, careful not to touch them as he gripped my hand. “Under the rug, you’ll find a squeaky floorboard. Press it while saying ‘Sylen’ and it will open for you. Inside you’ll find a few items. I need you to bring those here as quickly as possible.” He squeezed. “Stop for no one. Speak to no one. Especially not once you have the items. You must come back here at once. Do you understand?”

“But Dawn’s guards. I’m not supposed to?—”

“If you go out through Dusk’s exit, they’ll let you through.” Bastian stared at Kaliban, brow tight with a frown. “No one from Dawn will know you’ve left the palace.”

“Won’t the prison guards stop me?”

“They become neutral when they come to serve in the dungeons. There is no Dusk and Dawn down here, only justice.” He finally turned and gave me an encouraging smile, but there was something tense about it. “You’ll be fine. There’ll be something warm in the cloakroom by the side exit we use. Take a coat from there—preferably hooded.”

“And take that thing off.” Kaliban frowned at the iron bracelet. “I don’t want you contaminating my house again.”