Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,119

at last. Gen drops his boots, pulls her knife, and uses it to pry the bolts from the stone. That, too, takes longer than I would like, but between the two of us, it is done.

“It feels wrong to stuff him into a hole like this.”

“I know. But his soul is gone from here and will hopefully never know. Besides, it is not unlike a catacomb.”

She nods stoically, then places her arms on his shoulders and shoves while I direct his body into the drain. “Wait!” I call out, and she stops. “We don’t want to leave Beast’s knife.” I pull it out slowly, then wipe it upon the man’s cloak until it is mostly clean, and tuck it into my boot. “Okay.”

But now it is Gen’s turn to pause. “What is he holding?” His left hand is closed tight around something. Gen gently pries it open, then brings the object out into the light.

It is a gold mantle brooch. She looks up at me. “This belongs to the general.”

“The gods have not yet determined the ending to this story,” I mutter. “Leave it. If the body is found, it will point to the general.”

* * *

Once Gen has left, I check the area in front of Beast’s cell one more time for any signs of what has transpired. When I am assured we have erased anything that can be used against Beast, I finally approach his door.

His heartbeat has returned to its slow, steady rhythm, but even though he was gripped by battle lust, I know he will be aware of all that transpired.

Be aware and feel the weight of it on his soul.

When I reach the door, I peer in through the small grate. Only the faintest bit of light reaches inside, and I can just make out his silhouette sitting on the lone wooden bench, his head in his hands.

“It is taken care of,” I tell him.

He looks up at the sound of my voice but does not stand. “I thought you had left.”

“We were simply hiding the body.”

“The man is dead.” The words feel like boulders dragged up from the depths of Beast’s heart.

“Yes. And blessed, and his soul released with as much grace as two of Death’s handmaidens possess. He knows how grateful we are to him.”

“I did not ask him to sacrifice his life.” It is anguish I hear in his voice, not anger.

“Of course not, but you are not the only one to whom honor means something. Other men are allowed to defend it as well.”

He inhales sharply, then rises from the bench.

“We will find a way to use this against Cassel. At some point,” I say. “But for now, with so much stacked against us, we must use this to our advantage. He plans to blame it on you, but there is no body to be found. No weapon. He cannot push too hard, or he will reveal his own hand in this.”

Beast comes to peer out the grate, seeing with his own eyes that the horror that just transpired is nowhere in sight.

“He plans to blame it on the beast within you. So let us go with that. Do not come to the door when the guards approach. Make them shove your food inside. Do not talk with anyone. Roar or growl once in a while, if need be. Especially if the general approaches alone.” I do not want the man near Beast, and if playing a beast helps ensure that, then we will embrace it.

“I am not afraid of him.”

“Nor am I.”

He reaches for the bars of his window. “You should be.” His voice is low and thrumming with despair. “He all but threatened you. He knows I care for you and all but threatened you. He is not one to let a weakness go unprobed.”

“I grew up around men like him and am well aware what he is capable of. Although I will forgive you for forgetting, given the day you’ve had.”

He huffs out a half snort that could be laughter.

“The general’s actions have just lit the cannon’s fuse. We will have to move fast, and so we will. I don’t know how yet, but we will get you out of here. And soon.”

I grasp his fingers through the grate and give them a squeeze. “And, Beast? Do not ever—and I mean ever—claim that you are the monster your father is. Surely even you can see how false that is now that he has exposed his true nature.”

Then I