Bone Palace, The - Amanda Downum Page 0,73
slope they found a long ruin that must have once been a stable. The roof had collapsed, and all it housed now were weeds. A rabbit burst from cover when they drew too close, vanishing into the undergrowth with a white flash of tail. In the shadows behind the building, stone steps led up the hill.
After scouting the area, they left the horses tethered in the dubious shelter of the stable, unconcernedly cropping grass. The animals’ calm was reassuring—beasts, unlike most humans, could sense ghosts or strong spirits.
The stairs were cracked and crooked, flagstones washed away and pushed aside by tree roots. Savedra lost count after seven hundred, and they were no more than halfway up. Leaves and fallen pine needles crunched and skittered with every step, sometimes obscuring broken stones and ankle-turning holes. Before long she could hardly hear the crackle of leaves beneath boots over the wheeze of her breath. Sweat soaked her back and her legs and lungs ached to burning. Even Ashlin was winded, and she took some satisfaction in that.
Near the summit, the path cleared the tangled trees, wrapping around the edge of the cliff for several yards before climbing again. To the left, only a few feet of rocks and weeds and scrubby grass separated their feet from a long drop. Far below the Ardos¸ snaked around the cliff, and pine-thick hills rose on the other side. Snowflakes swirled and spiraled and vanished into grey haze; Savedra regretted her downward glance immediately. The right-hand view was safer, but still breathtaking in its height. And ahead of them the fortress rose, a towering weight of age-stained stone. After a moment’s rest they kept walking, into its shadow.
By the time they reached the final landing, Savedra had no more strength to admire the view. Instead she sat with her back to the hulking gate, laying her head on her knees and waiting for her breath and heart to slow. Her side ached like a knife between her ribs and her racing pulse made her nauseous. Ghosts or demons were welcome to eat her, if it meant she didn’t have to get up again.
“Here.” Ashlin crouched beside her, passing a water skin and a wedge of oily cheese. “Slowly,” she cautioned as Savedra lifted the bag.
When her stomach ceased its seasick roil and the pain in her side faded, she rose to face the castle.
Carnavas was a fortress, not a palace like those in Erisín. The hulk that loomed above them was solid, heavy walls and arrow-slit windows, built for defense. Built to last for centuries, but twenty-seven years of neglect had taken their toll all the same. Moss and vines webbed the stones, and saplings pressed against the walls like an invading army.
The portcullis was raised, and unlikely to lower again. Corroded iron spikes bled rust down the narrow walls and the bird nests clogged the lattice. The ground below was crusted grey with droppings. The great ironbound double doors beyond were in no better condition, the wood dry and splintering. One side stood ajar, a handspan gap leading into shadows. The only sound was the rustle of dry leaves and the mournful sigh of the wind.
Cahal crouched to study the filthy ground. “No one has passed this way recently,” he said, voice hushed either in caution or out of respect for the stillness. “And no large animals.”
“That’s something, at least. I’d rather not walk into a bandit nest.” Ashlin adjusted her sword, and Savedra checked her own dagger hanging at her waist.
“If there is anyone inside,” Iancu said, “they’ve likely heard us coming by now.”
“Yes.” Ashlin raked a hand through her sweat-stiffened hair. “No use dithering on the doorstep.” She started forward, but Cahal intercepted her with a glare.
“Wait your turn, Captain.” His sword rasped free of its scabbard; the steel gathered pale daylight and cast a watery shimmer against the wall. He braced his free arm against the door, and Savedra held her breath.
Wood creaked and groaned, then swung inward with a shriek of rusted hinges. The sound echoed like a scream. A flock of birds burst from a nearby tree with a rattle of branches, croaking disapproval. Savedra flinched, and Ashlin grimaced. Cahal ducked and crouched behind the other half of the door, waiting for a response.
None came, and the echoes faded into the sighing wind. The birds settled in another tree, glaring indignantly at the clumsy humans.
“Well,” Cahal said at last, uncoiling from his crouch. “Now the ghosts really know we’re here.”
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