Page 47

I will always love you, Little Dove.

I bolted through the castle. Bounding footfalls pounded after me.

I didn’t make it far—the fair hound leapt at my back.

“Agh!” I cried out, knees and elbows crashing against the stone.

The writhing hound tumbled over me, dragging the rug as it skidded down the hall.

Regaining my footing, I ran into an adjoining chamber and slammed the door.

What could I do against a beast ten times my size?

Running across the room, I yanked open a heavy door and tore down the hallway.

I slipped into a small parlour as a howl pierced the thick walls.

The hound wasn’t far behind.

I ducked into a cloak cabinet and covered my mouth, staunching my haggard breathing.

What now? I could change and run for it.

Two problems: I couldn’t leave Lottie to torment and death.

Secondly, if I changed and Bronwyn caught me, everything was over.

No, I was going to have to solve this as a woman.

But, how?

My thoughts wandered to the Hollow, to my lessons that had kept me alive for all these years.

Once, out gathering, Father and I had been set upon by a grim bear, a mangy, ferocious creature.

To protect me, Father had hidden me beneath a spray of roots and drawn the bear away.

He’d looped the creature in a circle and then ducked behind a trunk.

I remember it so well because…it was the first time I’d seen my father afraid—truly afraid.

Pressure had tightened his jaw; the responsibility of his child’s life had rested in his hands, in the action he took next.

If he failed, he would die. He’d looked at me, huddled beneath the roots.

If he failed, his baby would die .

My father’s chest had ebbed until serenity washed over him. The bear had prowled closer, and its paw settled beside the trunk, concealing my father.

Father then struck.

Aiming for the heart, Father had driven his blade deep into the bear’s underarm. The bear howled and collapsed. Clinging to life, it gasped. Father always refused to let any creature suffer; he’d quickly cut the bear’s throat.

From within the castle, the hound howled once more.

I couldn’t stay trembling in this cabinet forever.

I knew what I had to do.

Sliding from the cabinet, I pressed it closed behind me.

This was a modest parlour—well, for a castle.

An elegant fireplace sat beyond the gilded chairs and sofa.

Keeping to the carpet to silence my footfalls, I dodged a side table and ran to the fireplace.

I reached above the mantle and removed the decorative spear adorning the wall.

It came loose with a gentle shifting of metal, and I paused, listening for the hound.

Nothing.

I crept to the door and peered out. No hound.

How had it lost me? Surely, the beast knew my scent.

Despite my mounting unease, I tiptoed into the hall and made my way back to Lottie.

Perhaps, once I killed the hound, I could break the device holding her.

Of course, I’d have to deal with the queen.

And Bronwyn. One problem at a time! I made my way back to the doors servicing the courtyard, casting wary glances all around.

Where is the beast?!

Whispers floated from the courtyard, and I peeked around the stone frame.

Outside, the queen and Bronwyn gathered near Lottie.

Queen Aenor held Bronwyn’s wounded arm, consoling her.

Lottie seemed fine. The queen said something to Bronwyn, prompting Lottie to roll her eye and stick out her tongue in disgust.

Just inside the door, two stone lions guarded the castle entrance.

I passed them and grabbed a bronze pot from a side table.

My reddish-brown reflection appeared in the shiny metal.

Burnt and dirty, a wild animal stared back at me.

I looked no different than any other feral creature that called the Hollow home.

Before I lost my nerve, I tossed the pot.

It bounced down the hall, clanging as it went.

I knelt, concealing myself behind a proud lion.

I wiped sweat from my palms and gripped the spear.

This time, it wasn’t my father’s voice that came to me, crouched in wait.

‘Land a killing blow.’

I hoped Rook was somewhere safe.

The soft click-clack-click-clack of claws stalled my thoughts. Summoned from the belly of the castle, the hound approached. The steps halted, replaced by an inhale of air, drawn out and thorough. Though the hound could not speak, it may as well have said, ‘I know you’re here.’

My panicked mind screamed, ‘This isn’t going to work!

’ My muscles tensed, begging me to run. If I didn’t go now, it would be too late.

The hound would snatch me, rip and tear my flesh.

It would drag me, half-alive, back to the queen, back to make that impossible choice—No!

I had no choice; I had a task. One last chance to show my strength, to finally do what I set out to do so many nights ago. Kill the hound.

Kill the hound or die!

If the hound discovered me hiding, I wouldn’t be taken alive. I would stab it, blind it—do anything I could to escape. If the beast killed me, at least my mother, Lysander, and Rook would be safe. Lottie had a knack for lockpicking, she might even manage to break out on her own.

The clicking of nails resumed.

Like the sudden chiming of a bell, the brass pot tumbled back down the hall. It bounced onto its rim and rolled in a wide circle before coming to rest at my boot. My confused face stared back in the polished metal.

Two beacons of light disappeared. And reappeared. A reflection of the hound’s eyes.

It saw me; it knew I was here!

And yet… The hound approached. No time for questions; the hound was nearly beside me.

Close.

Closer.

A large paw settled next to me. Perfectly in reach, so deliberately placed that my good fortune temporarily distracted me from what I needed to do.

I leapt out and drove the spear up into the beast’s underarm.

Such agonized snarls left the hound’s throat as it recoiled.

Attempting to escape the pain, the hound fled into the courtyard, where it fell into a heap of bloody fur.

Without hesitating, I chased, prepared to slit the hound’s throat.

Excruciating, wet wheezes filled the night as the hound shrank. Fur and snout receded, and a human nose and face formed. Familiarity faltered my steps. My hands, which only moments ago were prepared to kill, fell upon the very wound I’d inflicted. Because the beast I’d been so intent on slaying…

Was my father.

I was transported back—back to that night seven years ago. When my father shambled in, covered in blood and reeking of terror. While he had the same fair hair, I wondered, had my memories deceived me? Were his cheeks always so gaunt?

His eyes so haunted?

“We buried you!” I choked.

My father’s gaze darted behind me.

“You buried someone; it was not him,” Queen Aenor said, approaching. Bronwyn remained across the courtyard, guarding Lottie. I was barely aware they existed, could only feel the slippery blood rushing against my palms.

All those times alone, he could have given me a message, a whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me?!” Even now, my father couldn’t manage to speak. “Why?” I whispered, tears blossoming along my lashes. My father opened his mouth.

His tongue had been taken.

Avoiding the growing pool of blood, Queen Aenor crouched. She looked at the encroaching puddle with indifference, like it was simply spilled wine, and not my father’s life slipping away.

“During my reign, I’ve gone to great lengths to bring people with magic together. To preserve it—”

“To ensure your reign, you mean?” All respect was gone when I spat, “And keep an eye on us, so we might not rise up, or aid those who might speak against you?”

“My reasons for protecting those with magic can be numerous.” The queen placed Bronwyn’s cloak over my father.

“For years, Bronwyn and I have been studying her family history —well, your family history, I suppose. To learn, to understand patterns, to try to predict when children might be born with abilities and talents. We researched all the way back to Countess Alifaire, the legends and the castle. Naturally, we wondered, is it still out there?”

A gargled choke came from my father’s throat.

Queen Aenor offered a piteous look. “We ventured into the Hollow to see if all the stories were true. To ensure secrecy, we took with us only a few guards. Our late captain, Marek, was amongst them. We trekked through the Hollow, and all the while, Bronwyn kept the creatures at bay. Sure enough, we found the castle, and we found your Hound. We didn’t enter, not immediately.

We were aware of Alifaire’s curse, that the castle was her cage.

So, we watched from a distance, studying the Hound’s behaviour, its comings and goings.

At the time, it was a relatively peaceful creature. ”

Queen Aenor scooched back, avoiding the blood.

“When our impatience got the better of us, we waited for the Hound to leave and slipped through the veil. We explored the castle, including the courtyard with a very peculiar tree. We knew better than to consume the fruit but—”

“It didn’t keep you from stealing some?” I snapped.

“You’re one to talk,” she said, wearing such a smug grin I wanted to change and bite it off.

“The attacks started then. I figured we’d somehow angered the beast. But that night in your hovel, I realized that while we were studying the Hound, Marek must have slipped away unnoticed, used this opportunity to ensnare the beast.”

“Everard.”

“Ensnare Everard ,” the queen corrected. “For his own gain.”