Page 21

Kit

T he massive doors were stuck.

Damon dislodged them easily as I stood to the side.

People watched us. They were careful about it, but I sensed it nonetheless. Most were curious. A few were afraid. A couple mistrustful. But one was…off. It was a weird sort of malice, weak and faded, like the thing behind it was little more than a shell.

But the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

Damon shifted his body to look at me, one straight black brow going up as his eyes met mine.

Despite the fog of memories I struggled to pierce, I understood what that look meant.

“Somebody is watching us.” No. Me. Somebody is watching me .

His nostrils flared slightly and he cocked his head. “I don’t smell anybody new.”

But I knew he didn’t doubt me.

That prickle of unease grew and I used my peripheral vision to do a sweep of the training yard. A few more fragmented memories fell into place and I set my jaw as a gnawing, deep fury roused in the back of my mind.

I hated this place.

There was still a huge void in place of where my life should be but this gut-deep repugnance was unshakeable.

“Anything?” Damon asked, his stance easy, face turned down to me as if we were having a conversation.

I lifted mine to his and somehow managed a smile. My face felt like it might crack, but I managed.

“No. Let’s go inside.”

I started to enter but he put a hand on my shoulder. “Let me go first.”

Coppery fear coated the back of my tongue and I wanted to run away screaming. Instead, I took his hand. “Okay.”

He enfolded his fingers over mine and moved in, the length of his arm stretching out until he was all the way inside and I lingered on the threshold, trying to convince my legs to move.

“Only thing that’s been in and out of this part of the building is vermin, maybe a few small rodents or rabbits.” He looked back at me, the maw of the Hall dark at his back. “It’s just you and me right now.”

The words slithered through my awareness, an ugly omen.

Just you and me right now .

I didn’t want to go in there.

“Kit?”

I had to lock my knees to keep them from shaking and I focused on Damon like nothing else in the world existed.

“We don’t have to go inside,” he said quietly. “If you want to know if something’s in here, I can do it myself.”

“No.” I forced the world out. “I have to do it.”

He brought my hand to his lips and turned it, pressing a kiss to the center of my palm.

“Then let’s do it and be done with it. You’re stronger than she ever was, baby girl. All she can do is hate and destroy and you’re more than that. She never could break you. Don’t forget that.”

Panting, I stepped through the broad, arched doorways.

Black dots danced in front of my eyes. I thought I’d pass out but I fought past and breathed in through my nose, concentrating on slow deep breaths until the swimming sensation in my head faded.

It took a couple of minutes.

Damon waited patiently.

I could only judge the passage of time by the lingering dampness at the nape of my neck where I’d broken out in a cold sweat. My limbs were locked and tight but I forced myself to move forward one step, then another until I stood at Damon’s side.

Watery light filtered in from the thin rectangle windows placed high on the Hall’s wall, placed there for strategic and defensive use. There were enough of the windows that they should have provided decent illumination but somehow, they couldn’t quite penetrate the gloom.

Nothing could lighten the overall crushing weight of oppression that pushed at my shoulders as more whispers of memory slid past that veil in my mind.

“There are lamps,” I said, my voice coming out strangled. Tugging free of Damon’s hand, I moved to the nearest wall and turned the small, round dial.

“Is that gas?”

“Yes.” Somehow I managed to smile. “Don’t worry. It won’t explode on us. It vents to the outside and if there’s a build-up…” I tapped the symbols beneath the dusty glass shield and felt the pulse of magic. The charms were still active. “These light up. About twenty percent of the people have enough witch blood to work minor charms on their own. I don’t know who developed the gas lines but at one point there was a fire—burned down the west wing and they devised this system after they figured out a build-up of gas caused it.”

“Ah, maybe I should light it—Kit!”

The soft, rosy-gold light flooded the area around us and I looked at him. “I think I know how to turn a light on. Besides, the gas has an odor if it builds up.”

His brows came down over his eyes, the turbulent gray firing at me. It felt…familiar. Almost comforting. Taking his hand again, I eased the dial under the globe and turned, watching as one by one, the lamps around the Hall lit.

“Well.” Damon heaved out a sigh. “One thing I can’t say is that they didn’t know their way around a hammer and nails.”

I laughed but it felt hollow and empty.

Staring into the spartan wonder that was the Keep, the stronghold of Aneris Hall and home to the queen, I thought of all the time and work that had gone into building this place.

And it had been for an imposter.

The heels of my boots rang hollowly along the stone floor as I moved toward the recessed area ahead.

“What’s this?” Damon asked as he came to a stop next to me, looking down into the pit.

I had to swallow bile before I could answer. “The fighting pits.”

Damon slanted a look my way.

Clearing my throat, I explained. “You’ve seen the size of the island. Yeah, it’s bigger than it looks, but it’s still just an island. By the time I was ten or so, only a handful of fighters left each year. The rest of the adults stayed here, either training amongst themselves or training the young. The few who didn’t do those jobs had a trade—they hunted or farmed the land, they prepared the communal meals or they made clothing and gear. That’s pretty much it. The entertainment, as they knew it, were the war games they played amongst themselves, dice games and tournaments.”

I gestured to the pit, thinking of the few times I’d been forced to attend.

“There would be team and solo competitions and once they narrowed it down to the best, they’d compete here.” My eyelid twitched as a particularly bloody memory shoved through the veil of fog as if it had been forcefully ejected from a car. “On the solstices, they’d have obstacle courses. When I was twelve, a boy qualified. He was sixteen. Usually, kids don’t make it into the tournaments, but he was…gifted. The males usually aren’t as swift and agile as the females in our race, but he was something else. The obstacle course was vicious. He was almost to the end when he sprang a trap of falling rocks.” Revulsion twisted my stomach until it felt like it was in knots. “None of the obstacles are supposed to cause fatal or crippling injuries. But the trap buried him so completely, it took Rana and her team nearly an hour to get him out. When they finally reached him, they found he’d landed on one of the stakes used to rig the trap—it pierced one of the major arteries in his gut and he bled out.”

Damon swore.

“Reshi was in charge of constructing the obstacle courses.” Humorlessly, I met his gaze. “Orsev had a younger brother—their family was a bit weird. Really fertile and they had more boys than girls in pretty much every generation. Demetrio is a cousin. Anyway, Orsev, the kid who died in that pit? A week before the tournament, Rathias cornered Orsev’s little brother and tried to make him eat a dead bird. Orsev found them and hauled the kid to face Rana.”

“And Reshi found out.”

“Yes.” I rubbed my temple where a headache pounded, that memory so fresh it was like I’d just relived it. “Rathi…fuck me .”

I clapped a hand over my mouth as that knowledge worked free and I spun away.

Damon hesitated but when I started shaking, he pulled me into his arms. I almost shoved him away but then I fisted my hands in his shirt and buried my face against his chest. Hard, ragged breaths panted out of me as he stroked soothing circles over my back.

He said nothing and I was grateful.

What was there to say anyway?

Finally, I shoved away and he released me with one last, lingering stroke down my back.

“Are you ready?” he asked as he took his place at my side.

There were a dozen unspoken questions hidden under that quiet one.

I focused only on the most obvious.

I wasn’t ready. And it didn’t matter. I had to do this.