Vanquished Gods (Hallowed Games #2)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

M oonlight pierced the forested canopy we rode under as we drew closer to Ruefield Castle. Gnarled branches arched above us, the chill in the air nipping at my cheeks. Instead of my usual leather clothes and thick cloak, I was dressed like Verica—a thin, white dress with billowing sleeves and a low-cut neckline hugged my frame, made of a material so delicate, I could feel the wind kissing my skin right through it. No gloves, either. I felt like I was practically riding naked through the woods.

Our team on this mission was small so that we could move discreetly. We had a young blonde witch named Ivy, skilled in the art of glamour. Lydia rode behind us, in case Sion or anyone else desperately needed healing. Percival rode ahead, our master of fiery diversions. If we were captured, Sion’s signal to him would be using his shadow magic to swallow the moonlight. And Maelor was there to help save us if that happened.

Sion and I would be the only two to go inside, making our team even smaller.

From up ahead, Sion slowed his horse, and he turned back to look at me as I caught up with him. “Tell me again, once more: how will you get to the Pater’s room?”

We’d been over this a hundred times already. “We disable the guards by the Invictus Gate, near the Lion’s Tower. You rush inside, head to Verica’s room, and tie her up. I start moving through the east wing, and I pick up the Pater’s tea in the kitchens. I bring it up to the top floor of the Lion’s Tower, where the Pater will be bathing.”

I shuddered at the mental image.

“Good. And the names of the guards who you’ll pass along the way?” he asked.

“Barthol and Crispin in the hall, Aldous and Starphan outside his door.” So many names whirled in my mind, so many winding turns inside the castle. Getting through the castle unnoticed would not be easy.

We were approaching the forest’s edge, and the lights of Ruefield Castle burned like tiny golden pinpricks in the distance. The castle rose up on the hill, looming over the shadowy landscape. Just as Sion had warned me, an enormous line of armed Luminari stood out front, torches dancing in the night in front of them. Just looking at that place sent a jolt of icy dread through my blood. A castle of horrors.

Every part of Ruefield had been heavily guarded since we’d escaped. They were still working on rebuilding the giant front door, but the Luminari now patrolled the entire castle exterior. The weakest defenses, apparently, were by the riverside entrance to the east wing, where we were heading. But even that door was guarded.

Just before we reached the end of the trees, I dismounted. Panicked thoughts nagged at the back of my mind, but I ignored them.

In the chill of the night air, I hugged myself.

Dressed in a black cloak, Ivy crossed over to me, her lank blonde hair hanging before her face. My impression of her was that she’d spent so long hiding from the Order that she barely knew how to deal with people in general. She tucked her chin down, glaring at me from under her curtains of hair.

“You all right, Ivy?” I asked.

She held her finger up to her lips. “Shh. I need silence for my work. It’s artistry, you know. Glamouring is like a fine artist creating a painting or a sculpture. If I’m rushed or distracted?—”

“Oh, get on with it,” Lydia interrupted. “We will all appreciate your genius when you’re done.”

Ivy glared at her, then cut her dark gaze back to me. She stepped closer and brushed her cold fingertips along my cheeks. A tingle and rush of magic swept over my skin. Sion stood behind her, his arms folded, and watched as she worked, giving her instructions. “Thinner eyebrows,” he said. “Wider nose, a bit thicker around the middle.”

As she worked, Ivy glared at me from between strands of her hair. “It’s very important that you remember this glamour only lasts for about half an hour. You must be out of there within thirty minutes. I think. Maybe less.”

“Any idea how much less?” I asked.

She frowned at me. “It’s hard to predict how it will interact with a person’s own magic.”

Her power continued to whisper and tingle over my skin until she had Sion’s approval.

As she glamoured Sion, I stared at the castle, a shiver running up my spine. This place was pure evil, and the Pater was the beating heart of the beast. He’d assumed so much control, such a godlike reputation, that they’d no longer function without him. Rip the heart out, and the whole thing dies.

“I’m ready.” Sion’s newly black hair flowed over his dark Raven’s cloak. He pulled up his cowl, blending into the shadows. From under his hood, his eyes glinted in the darkness with just the faintest hint of gold.

“Give me a minute,” said Percival.

The air shimmered with heat, radiating from behind me. I turned to see him, his eyes flickering with flames. Percival’s palm glowed, casting an eerie light on his face. On the other side of Ruefield Castle, a distant fire burned, its flames casting an orange glow against the dark sky. It amazed me that he could send magic from his body all the way over there.

Shouts broke out, and I could see a line of guards rushing towards the blaze. The scent of smoke coiled through the air.

Sion nodded at me. “Let’s go.”

Tension fluttered in my stomach as we took off across the fields. If we were captured, there would be no opportunity for escape this time. I’d heard that sometimes, the torturers broke their victim’s bones so thoroughly, they had to be carried to the stake on a chair.

I forced the thought away. Sometimes, my mind was my own worst enemy. I needed to focus on the best outcomes. If I could find out how to kill the Pater, there would be no more broken-limbed journeys to the pyres. No more trials, dungeons, or labyrinths full of slicing blades and fires—no more ghostly, ravenous wolves gnawing on the bones of the fallen.

Freedom—what would that taste like? It would be like Veilcross, only throughout the entire kingdom.

The line of guards standing before the ruined door looked thinner now, and none of them were likely to see us through the shadows. Sion’s magic whispered over me, a velvet stroke against my skin. Darkness muted the silver moonlight, subtly enough that the guards were unlikely to notice it, but still darkening the landscape so that we could safely move through. Only the fire burned—an eerie, glowing beacon to draw the soldiers’ attention away from us.

Coiling around me, Sion’s shadows twisted and danced, hiding us just a little more in the dark.

We hurried across the grassy earth to the eastern gate. At least, I thought we did. One of the problems with Sion’s shadow magic was that it also made it hard for me to see very clearly. It wasn’t a total blackout, but everything had gone dim.

“Can you see?” I asked.

“Of course I can fucking see,” he whispered.

In the next moment, I felt his hand in mine, strong and calloused. As we approached the castle, I could see tiny dots of light, the torches that lined the soaring outer walls. Faintly, I could make out the silhouettes of six guards standing vigil outside the Invictus Gate, their outlines bathed in the light of the torches. A thin tendril of fear wended its way through my chest.

The eastern wing loomed high above us, the windows like narrow orange dots from within the shadows. My breath shallowed.

When Sion turned to look at me, his eyes held an otherworldly gleam that sent a chill rippling over my skin. “I’m going to get rid of them,” he whispered. “You see the door?”

“I think so.”

“Follow inside straight after me once the guards are down.”

He released my hand, and his form blurred as he darted forward, melding with the night. His attack left no time for the guards to react, and his shadows receded, giving me a clearer view.

Within moments, the guards fell soundlessly, crumpling to the ground like severed marionettes. The scent of blood filled the air, coating my tongue.

My pulse pounded hard. My fingers twitched, ready to pull one of my knives at any moment.

I rushed in behind him, pushing through the door.

The moment I was inside, I carefully shut the door behind me.

I peered down a long hall, where torches cast wavering light over stones and an ornate rug. Already, Sion had disappeared into the castle, on his mission to Verica’s room. It was unnerving how quickly the man could simply vanish.

I looked down at my thin gown and smoothed out the material. I relaxed my shoulders and started to walk with the swaying hips and carefree smile that Sion had relentlessly made me practice. If anyone ran into me, they’d see Verica, a woman who laughed easily and made every double entendre she could think of.

But despite my warm expression, internally, fear iced my chest like hoarfrost. I had no idea how someone like Verica could bounce around, grinning at people, when she knew what went on in this castle of horrors.

The place was a maze of twists and turns, and Sion’s obsessive insistence on memorizing maps was starting to make sense to me. Nothing went in straight lines in there, and in the dim light, navigating it in real life, it all seemed much more confusing than it had on the maps.

Now, I could smell the scent of bread baking, which meant I was getting close to the kitchen, and I turned into the vast room. In there, the warm glow of the hearth and the rich aroma of roasting meat fully enveloped me. At the far end of the kitchen, a boy was turning a spit with a roasting pig by the fire.

With my head down, I slipped into the bustling chaos, but I didn’t go unnoticed for long.

A plump woman, spattered in flour, glanced up at me from the dough she was kneading. “Verica, darling! I just got here. I thought I might have missed you. How’re you feeling?”

“Right as rain. Tell you what, it’s the weather today, it was bloody gorgeous. I might have even seen a rainbow. And the meadowlarks were having a go at it on a tree branch.” Too much. Too much. “Well, got to get on, don’t I? Pater needs his tea.”

I racked my brain to remember all the millions of details I’d memorized. There had been so many, for every possible situation. The herbs, the metal pitcher and the ornate cups by the side. I grabbed what I needed and filled the pitcher with water, setting it on the stove to boil.

“Verica.” The cook leaned in closer to me. “Do you remember what we were talking about earlier?” Her eyes widened. “I couldn’t believe it.”

I smiled at her. “Oh, yeah, gosh, that was a laugh. My word!”

She scowled at me. “A laugh?”

“Yeah, no, I mean…it was unexpected. Terrible.”

“I’d say so, yeah. No one expects to die of the plague at twenty. And just the way she looked, you know, with the purple skin, and the blood pouring out her mouth…”

My stomach fell. “Right, yeah.” I shook my head with sympathy. “You must have been devastated. I can’t imagine.”

“Devastated?” She looked outraged all over again. “She stole my husband! She even tried to kill me once. Were you not listening at all, Verica? Honestly, sometimes I think your head is well and truly empty.”

Fucking hell. I needed to get away from this conversation. I pulled boiling kettle off the stove. “Sorry, I just, a lot on my mind tonight. You know me. Muddle-headed as usual. Nothing but wool gathering in my skull.”

She nodded, satisfied, then let out a heavy sigh. “True. I do know you, Verica.” She returned to her kneading. “Not the brightest,” she muttered.

Gathering everything I needed and placing it on the tray, I clutched it tightly and crossed out into the hallway, my palms slick with sweat. I passed a soldier, who nodded at me and simply said “Verica” as he continued by.

I flashed him a broad smile. Mentally, I was calculating how much time I had left until the glamour wore off. That conversation had thrown me. But even if I wanted to break into a run, I couldn’t. I had to maintain Verica’s slow, meandering pace with a smile on my face. Any sign of anxiety or stress would set off alarm bells in people’s minds.

I turned into the winding stairwell that led all the way up to the Pater’s room, my heart racing with every step. Distant echoes of voices flowed through the castle.

In there, flickering torchlight danced over stone walls carved with the symbols of the Order—ravens, suns, a crescent moon, and a bull. The heat from the torches felt strangely oppressive. A bead of sweat trickled down my spine under my dress. Narrow windows gave a brief view of the courtyard where the stakes still stood, ready to burn their next victims.

As I reached the stairwell to the Pater’s room, I found two guards standing at the bottom. I put on a well-practiced smile, trying to summon the charm of Verica, and let my hips sway. “Evening, gentlemen.”

One of them glared at me, his gray eyes cold. Their bodies tensed. Instantly, I knew something was wrong, and my pulse quickened.

“What are you doing?” the guard asked. “The Pater changed his evening tea time on account of feeling poorly.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Oh, did I get the time wrong? Gosh, I’m such a ninny. You know how I am, Barthol. I’ll bring it back.”

His jaw tightened. “The thing is,” he said, “you already brought it an hour ago. So, what are you doing coming up here twice?”

My heart slammed hard in my chest. Shit. And where the hell was Sion?

One of the guards shifted and started to point his sword toward me. “I’m just wondering why you’d come up here twice and not remember the first time.”