Someone fell into us, but I held on—Loren held on, and we were almost there. Just a few more steps, and we’d be out of the crush. We’d be—
Loren jerked, and something wet and warm sprayed the right side of my face and my neck. Loren’s arms loosened, and I caught her, her sudden weight pulling at the tender skin around my ribs. “Hold on,” I told her. “We’re almost there—” I looked down, peered at her because she was falling, and I couldn’t hold her.
She fell, and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I refused to reconcile what I saw as I was jostled to the left and then to the right. There couldn’t be an arrow through the back of her head, the fletching vibrating.
“We were almost there,” I whispered.
A piercing whistle sounded from outside, followed by another and another. Slowly, I lifted my chin and stared out into the shadows of the garden, some deeper and darker than others. They drew closer.
I’d just been out there with Hawke. Had he gotten out in time? Or had he been felled by—
I couldn’t think like that. He must have left. He had to.
Someone grabbed my arm, spinning me around.
“The side entrance.” Commander Jansen’s face appeared in front of me. “We must get to the side entrance now, Maiden.”
I blinked slowly, numbly. “Vikter, Tawny. I must find them—”
“They don’t matter right now. I need to get you out. Dammit,” he cursed as I turned away, desperately scanning the mass of people for those I cared about. He grabbed for me, but my arm was too slippery. He lost his grip as I raced into the churning mass of people.
“Tawny!” I screamed, shoving past an older man. “Vikter! Tawny—”
“Poppy!” Hands grabbed my back, and I spun. Tawny clutched me, her mask gone, and her hairdo half fallen. “Oh gods, Poppy!”
Holding onto her, I looked over her shoulder and met Lord Mazeen’s icy stare. “Good to see you’re still alive,” he said.
Before I could respond, Vikter shoved through, pulling me away from Tawny. “Are you hurt?” he shouted, wiping at the blood on my face. “Are you injured?”
My lips parted. I saw the Duchess behind us, surrounded by guards. Beyond them, I saw the Duke.
Flames crawled and licked up his legs, climbing over his torso and spreading across his arms.
“My gods,” Tawny said. I thought she saw what I did, but then I realized that she was facing the entrance. I turned.
They stood in the entryway and at the broken windows, dozens dressed in the ceremonial garb of the Rite, their faces shielded by silver masks. Wolven. Their facial coverings had been designed with the characteristics of the wolven—ears, snouts, elongated fangs. Those at the entryway were armed with daggers and battleaxes. Those at the windows had been the ones to fire the arrows. There were Descenters, possibly even Atlantians among the masked.
It struck me then.
They had been among us the entire night. I thought of Agnes, of what she had said and how nervous she’d looked, and how Vikter had felt as if there’d been more she hadn’t told us. Had she known and tried to warn me? Not the guards and the commoners who lay injured and dead on the floor. Not the Ascended who’d fallen. Not Loren and Dafina, who’d never harmed a single person.
My hands curled into fists.
“From blood and ash,” one of them shouted.
Another yelled. “We will rise!”
“From blood and ash!” several yelled as they started down the steps. “We will rise!”
Vikter grabbed me as I took hold of Tawny’s hand. “We need to move fast,” he said, nodding at the Commander, who was now beside the Lord.
The Royal Guards surrounded the Duchess and us, pushing back through the masses. Every part of me was sickened as they guided us through the crowd toward the open door, where people were being thrown back. We were escaping, and they were being held in.
“This isn’t right,” I said, and then I yelled it over the screams as I was pulled through the door. “They’re going to be massacred.”
Ahead of me, the Duchess’s head whipped around, and her black eyes met mine. “The Royals will take care of them.”
Normally, I would’ve laughed at that. The Royals? The Ascended, who never seemed to raise a hand, would take care of them? But there was something in her eyes, almost where her pupils would be if I could see them. It was like burning coal.
We went through the doorway, and…and others went out into the Great Hall. They weren’t guards. They were Ascended, male and female, their eyes carrying that same unholy light.
Racing along, I looked over my shoulder as the last of the Ascended swept through the door, her crimson gown like a cape. A Royal Guard closed the door behind her and then stood with his back pressed against it, his short swords crossed.
Guards streamed past us then as we ran through the foyer, around the statues, and I looked at every one of them, hoping and fearing that I’d see Hawke. Each face that passed me was unfamiliar.
And then the screams from the Great Hall ceased.
My steps faltered. Tawny looked back, too. The screams had simply…stopped.
“Come, Poppy,” Vikter urged.
We spilled into the banquet hall. A guard came running over, his face and arm spotted with blood. “They’re at the back entrance, surrounding the whole damn castle. The only way out is through them.”
“No,” The Duchess argued. “We wait them out. Here. This room will do.” She stalked forward. “They won’t make it to us.”
“Your Grace—” Vikter started.
“No.” The Duchess turned to him, that same odd fire I’d seen earlier in her eyes. “They will not make it to us.” Her gaze snapped to me. “Bring Penellaphe.”
The skin around Vikter’s mouth tightened, and we exchanged looks. He shook his head. I held onto Tawny’s hand as we crossed the room and moved into one of the greeting rooms. In the back of my mind, I was at least grateful that it hadn’t been the room Malessa had been murdered in.
Because there was a good chance that we were all going to die in here.
The Commander remained outside, sword drawn, and I knew he was going back to the Hall. My dagger practically burned against my thigh.
As the door closed behind us, I let go of Tawny’s hand and looked around. There was only one window, but it was far too small for anyone but a child to climb through.
The Duchess dropped into a settee, her lips pressed into a firm line. Lord Mazeen went to her, and I saw that several Royal Guards remained inside.
“Dear girl, you look like you’re about to pass out from fright,” the Duchess said to Tawny. “We will be just fine in here. I assure you. Come.” She patted the seat. “Sit with me.”
Tawny glanced at me, and I gave her a discreet nod. She drew in a shallow breath and then joined the Duchess, who turned to the Lord. “Bran, why don’t you pour us some of the whiskey.”
As the Lord rose to obey the Duchess, I looked at Vikter and whispered, “This is incredibly stupid.”
His jaw flexed.
“If they make it in here, we are sitting ducks.” I kept my voice low. “That is if we don’t burn alive from the flaming Duke.”
He turned from the Duchess as he nodded. “Are you armed?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” His gaze fixed on the door. “If anyone makes it in here, do not hesitate to use what you’ve been taught.”
My gaze lifted to his in question.
“I don’t care who sees you,” he whispered. “Defend yourself.”
Exhaling slowly, I nodded, and then there was only the sound of glass clinking against glass and then nothing more. The guards remained focused on the door, and I stayed near Vikter, checking on Tawny every so often. She was staring straight ahead, the drink virtually forgotten in her hand. Each time I looked, the Lord was staring back at me.
How unfair that he still breathed when so many others did not.
I didn’t care how unworthy that thought was. I meant it. I didn’t know how much time passed, but my thoughts wandered to Hawke. Fear trickled through my blood like ice.
Lightly touching Vikter’s back, I waited until he faced me. “Do you think Hawke is okay?” I whispered.
“He’s good at killing,” he answered, refocusing on the door. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
A lot of the guards who’d fallen had been good at killing. All the talent in the kingdom meant nothing when an arrow came out of nowhere.
I forced myself to take a deep, slow breath. The Duke was dead. Masadonia had become the next Goldcrest Manor, but Tawny was okay. So was Vikter. And Hawke had to be. This…this wasn’t going to turn out like the night the Craven had come, when my mother—
Something hit the door, causing Tawny to gasp. She clasped her hand over her mouth.
Vikter lifted his finger to his lips. I held my breath. It could’ve been anything. No need to panic. Yes, we were fish in a barrel, but we were—
The door rattled with the next impact, shaking the hinges. Tawny rose, as did the Duchess. The guards moved to block the entryway, drawing their swords.
Wood cracked and splintered as the deadly edge of a battleax breached the portal.
“What did you say, Your Grace?” the Lord said, sighing. “That they wouldn’t make it to us?”
“Shut up,” she hissed. “We’re fine.”
A chunk of wood fell. We were not fine.
Vikter looked over his shoulder at me. Our eyes met, and I let go of the breath I had been holding. I turned, planting my foot on the seat of an empty chair. I gathered up my skirt—
“Now, this is getting interesting,” the Lord remarked.
My gaze met his as I unsheathed the dagger, wishing I could shove it through his heart. He must’ve seen that in my stare because his nostrils flared.
“Penellaphe,” gasped the Duchess. “What are you doing with a dagger? And under your skirt no less? This whole time?”
A high, panicked giggle snuck out from around Tawny’s hand where it covered her mouth, and her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Duchess Teerman shook her head. “What are you doing with a dagger, Penellaphe?”
“Doing my best not to die,” I told her. Her mouth dropped open.
Knowing I would hear about this later—if there was a later— I turned back to the door. The hall had quieted. Nothing moved beyond the gash in the wood. One of the Royal Guards crept forward and bent down to peer out.
His head tilted to the side. “Shit,” he exclaimed, turning. “Get back!”
I jumped, as did Vikter, but two of the guards weren’t fast enough. The door blew off its hinges and smacked into them, taking one of them down while the other was caught in the chest by the battering ram. I heard a sickening crunch.
Vikter swung his sword, cutting through bone and tissue. The battering ram hit the ground, along with an arm. A man screamed, stumbling back as blood pumped from the severed limb. He fell to the side, and then they swarmed, swallowing Vikter and the guards. There was no time to give in to panic or fear as one of the Descenters stalked forward, flipping the battleax in his hand. I had no idea if they were here for me or to just shed blood, but with the mask and how I was dressed, they had no idea that I was the Maiden.
The man behind the wolf mask chuckled. “Pretty dagger.”
They had no idea I knew how to use it.
He raised the battleax, and I thought the Duchess screamed. Maybe it was Tawny. I wasn’t sure, but the sounds they made faded into the background as I let instinct take over.
Waiting until the axe blade whistled through the air, I then shot forward, darting under his arm. I spun behind him just as he turned, slamming the dagger into the back of his neck, right in the area I used to end the cursed.
He was dead before he even realized that I’d killed him.
As he fell forward, I saw the Duchess staring back at me, her mouth hanging open.
“Behind you,” Tawny shouted.