Page 63

Andor

“Do you think she’s all right?” Kirney whispers to me.

We’ve been standing behind the creepy dragon statues for what feels like forever, waiting for Brynla to appear.

With every veiled Sister who makes her way to their private chapel, I keep hoping one will stop before us—that Brynla will pull back a veil and reveal her beautiful face.

But that doesn’t happen.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” I say to Kirney, but I have no idea at this point.

I shouldn’t have let her do this alone. I should have taken down another Sister and worn the veil.

No one would have known. The three of us could have done this together, even though I know the more lives we take here, the riskier things get.

But the biggest, most unbearable risk of all is that Brynla won’t make it out of here alive.

Have faith , I remind myself, my palms starting to sweat. You know Brynla can take care of herself. She might not have suen in her blood, but she’s more than evenly matched against them.

But part of me wonders how pure this cult really is and how much is for show.

It may be against the law to ingest suen in Esland, but that doesn’t mean the government isn’t doing it behind closed doors.

It doesn’t mean that the Sister in charge, hasn’t ingested it.

And it certainly doesn’t mean the Black Guard isn’t under the influence.

Fuck. I hope to the goddesses that Vidar hasn’t discounted that.

“I don’t think this lady is ever going to wake up,” Kirney says wearily.

I glance at her body. She’s very dead. If this woman had ingested suen, it certainly didn’t help her fight back, or give her immortality.

“You did what you had to do,” I tell him. “You didn’t kill her. Brynla did.”

“I helped.”

I sigh. “Atonement is for another day. Today is about getting out of here alive.”

“With the egg.”

“With the egg,” I repeat. But the truth is, I don’t give a flying fuck about the egg right now. As much as the idea of immortality excites me, as much as we need the egg, Brynla is the only thing that matters.

And I’m the one who involved her in this. She might lose her life before the rest of us.

Before I even had the courage to tell her that I love her.

“Look,” Kirney whispers, nudging me.

The doors to the chapel open and the Sisters file out in a line, like a row of giant black ants, two by two. They are chattering among themselves and I can only hear snippets of their conversation as they pass us unseen.

But near the back of the line, I hear something as clear as day.

One Sister says to the other, “I can’t go with you, I have to go feed the dragon now.”

I exchange a wide-eyed glance with Kirney.

“Ugly business,” the other one says. “Perhaps we can meet later.”

We poke our heads out from the shadows and watch as they disappear around the corner, but the one who just said she was going to feed the dragon goes to the servants’ staircase we had previously come out of.

“You stay here and wait for Brynla,” I tell Kirney. “I’m going to go check this out. I’ll wait for you in the cistern.”

Before Kirney can protest, I step out of the shadows and start running after the woman, managing to get back into the stairwell without anyone seeing me.

The bodies of the women that Kirney disarmed are now gone and I know we don’t have a lot of time before the alarm is sounded. They might not be able to speak, but they can sure as fuck write.

I quietly hurry down the stairs after the woman, her footsteps going down, down, down until she goes into the cellar.

I follow her, watching as she crosses the cold-storage room and then goes to a small wooden door on the opposite side of the room.

She grabs a torch off the wall, then takes out a set of jangling keys from her robe and unlocks it and then steps inside.

I’m across the room in a flash, getting to the door just before I’m shut out, taking my glowfern cube out of my pocket, the light already burned out, and I use it to prop open the door an inch, just in case.

Then I hurry down the stairs, following the flame, though my eyes are already adjusted to the dark.

Down and down we go, the air growing colder, smelling damp and metallic, like mildew and blood.

It must be at least a hundred steps until I watch as she steps off the last stair and heads down a narrow, rock-lined passage.

I follow along, the floor made of hard-packed dirt, keeping my distance and hugging the shadows.

Even if she turns around with her torch, I don’t think she’ll see me.

As she walks along, though, her pace slows. Like she’s reluctant.

And the corridor starts to fill with sound.

A shrill sound. Muffled crying. Pure fear vibrates around me, making my scalp prickle.

Is this the dungeon that Brynla was talking about? Could the convent be keeping an actual dragon on the premises, tended to by the Sisters of the Highest Order? Is this dragon worshipped like a god?

The corridor opens up and all at once my questions are answered.

We’re in a massive underground keep, with stone buttresses that rise fifty feet in the air. Nearest to us are three cages.

There are people in the cages. Some dead, some alive, some women, some men, some robed like the Daughters of Silence, all blindfolded and gagged.

The veiled woman stands in the middle of the room, facing the dark shadows at the back, holding up her torch, which trembles slightly in her hand.

“Magni,” she calls into the darkness. “For your wisdom and grace we give you your gift. May it sustain you, may it sustain us.”

I stare in horror, her words sinking in, watching as something comes lumbering out of the shadows, the sounds of heavy chains clinking.

Its head appears.

Far larger than any deathdrage, with slick green skin that reflects the torch that seems so tiny in comparison, and protruding fangs that are as long as my body. Its tongue shoots out of its mouth, flickering in the air like a snake. It lets out a low hissing sound that rattles my bones.

It’s unlike any dragon I have ever seen. An entirely new species.

And one named Magni. Whether it’s named after the Grand Sorcerer or they think it is the Grand Sorcerer, I’m not sure. But it doesn’t matter, because they have a fucking dragon chained in their dungeon.

The woman lets out a shaking breath and then quickly moves over to the cages. She unlocks one of them and reaches in, grabbing an old, naked man by the arm and hauling him out. Along with being blindfolded and gagged, the man is bound at the feet and ankles.

My stomach twists in disgust as she drags him across the dirt floor toward where she was standing before.

“I will bring him closer to you now,” she says, projecting her voice at the dragon in warning. “This is your gift, not I.”

I have to wonder how many Sisters lose their life doing this. What if the dragon decides it doesn’t want to play nice? Are dragons even sentient enough to know that they are gods? Does this one?

I have to do something.

“Hey!” I cry out, raising my sword. I don’t know what I expect to do from here because I certainly don’t want to run into the dragon’s line of fire.

But it’s enough for the woman to turn around to look at me.

Enough for the dragon to be surprised, unsure if I’m friend or foe.

Enough for the dragon to lunge forward, its heavy claws smacking the ground and making the whole keep shake, dust falling from the rafters, the iron collar visible at its neck, the chains rattling, straining to keep the beast in place.

Enough for it to open its mouth and bite the woman in two, swallowing down her upper half before doing the same to her lower.

The muffled cries in the cages intensify. I wait for the dragon to breathe fire on me, but instead it retreats into the shadows, chewing as it goes. Perhaps it doesn’t breathe fire at all.

I take my chance and run forward, picking up the old man and carrying him on my shoulders, removing him from the dragon’s reach, just as I hear a scream coming from down the corridor in front of me.

Suddenly Lemi appears in front of me, having shifted.

“What the fuck,” I exclaim.

Lemi just runs around in a circle as Kirney and Brynla run into view.

I almost break down at the sight of her.

But from the fear in their eyes, I know there is no time.

She looks around the room wildly while Kirney says, “What the drage is this place?”

“What’s happening?” I ask her as she runs to me.

“She’s immortal,” she says through a gasping breath. “The Harbringer is immortal. She came back to life after Lemi ate her face, and now the rest of the convent is on our tail. We have the egg, though, so at least there’s that. What’s happening here?”

“They have a dragon and they’ve been feeding people to it,” I explain, adjusting the old man on my back and nodding at the cages. I’m thrilled she has the egg but I don’t have time to take it in.

She gasps and runs over to them, taking out her lock-picking device and hastily undoing each cage.

“We need to get out of here,” Kirney says, reaching over and removing the man’s blindfold and gag. “Excuse me, sir, how do we get out of here? Is there another way?”

The man sputters, clearly shocked.

“Down there,” one of the women says after Brynla removes her gag and blindfold before untying the rest of her. She brushes her unruly mint-green hair from her face and points at the other side of the keep at another door. “Sometimes people come from that door,” she says.

“Good, can you help me undo the others?” Brynla asks the woman.

The woman nods and Kirney runs over to them. In seconds, the remaining prisoners are free.

“Let’s go!” I yell, and we start running for the door. I kick it down without bothering with the lock and we find ourselves in another passage, this one sloping on an incline to the surface.