The Fallen (Hades Castle Trilogy #1) - C.N. Crawford Page 0,79

a deep hunger for vengeance. This wasn't just about my country anymore. He'd murdered someone I loved, ruined my family. And how many other lives had he destroyed, because the angels believed they were better than us mortals? That they needed to reign over the chaos of man?

They really didn't care if we lived or died, as long as it suited their needs.

I wanted to scrub my entire body clean of his touch. But there wasn't time for that right now, because more than anything I had to leave here. I had to hope that what we’d done last night was enough of a seduction, because there was no way I was going near him again.

As the haze of horror thinned a little in my mind, I realized there was another piece of paper with the photograph.

More drawings from Finn. He’d carefully drawn a picture of his market stall, with the petticoats hung up.

Beneath that, he’d drawn an hourglass and a lightning bolt, the symbol of the Free Men. If I understood this correctly, he wanted me to meet him at the market stall as soon as possible. Time was of the essence. And then, he would give me some kind of message from the Free Men.

I took another minute to try to compose myself. Running wildly out of here in this mental state was a recipe for disaster. If I didn’t steady my nerves, I’d find myself wandering around the courtyard, ranting and tearing my hair out. For Alice’s sake, I needed to master control of my emotions.

I closed my eyes, taking deep, calming breaths. I focused on the feel of the sunlight on my skin, and I tried to block out the image of what I'd just seen. When the trembling in my body had subsided, I crouched down again.

I picked up the note and the photograph, and pulled a little matchbox out of my pocket. I burned both pieces of paper. For one thing, I couldn't be caught with these. If a soldier were to find me, it would lead them back to the Free Men. And for another thing, I wanted that photograph to be burned out of existence. A photograph like that should simply not exist at all.

As I watched Samael's image burn on the ground, I thought of his body in flames. He needed to die for what he’d done.

When I'd finished burning the papers, I stepped back into the archway. I closed my eyes, thinking of the one thing that calmed me the most: the night sky. I imagined the stars shining, the sense of freedom in the darkness, plants growing wild beneath my feet under a cloak of night.

Then I knocked against the stone next to me, and said a prayer to the Raven King. I felt his spirit had been my guardian this whole time. A rush of cool wind over me felt like an answer from his ghost.

And with that, I felt a sense of calm, of purpose. I was clear-headed again, like this was a holy mission.

I knelt down, blowing away the ashes from the burned paper and photograph. Carefully, I peeked out from the archway to see if the coast was clear.

From here, I could simply scale the outer wall unnoticed. On that part of the wall, I would be out of view of the guards who protected the entrances. I supposed right now it was a good thing that this place was ridiculously enormous. Nobody would be able to see me there.

So I ran for the wall, and started climbing. I slid my fingers into the little cracks between the rocks, hoisting myself up one stone at a time, moving swiftly.

Whatever happened next, I would fight most of all for Alice. She’d deserved better than a gory death at the hands of a monster.

My arms and legs burned as I climbed, but I was moving quicker than I ever had. When I reached the top of the wall, I peered over to see the moat far beneath me.

I started moving down quickly, lowering myself one step after another, until at last I reached the water. I let go of the wall and dropped into the murky moat, which smelled of rotting plants. Holding my breath, I swam to the other side.

There wasn't anyone around. I hoisted myself out quickly, then started to run. I was running for East Dovren and for Finn and for the life I used to have.

Maybe it had never been a glamorous life,

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