House of Dragons (Royal Houses #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,62

growled low behind her.

“Mine either,” Kerrigan said as she twisted the handle and heard it open with a satisfying click.

“Remind me again why you’re doing this.”

“Ellerby was supposed to pick me for his tribe. We’d had it worked out for months,” she explained, pushing the door open slightly. Then, she waved him in behind her. “He was there the day of my ceremony, and then right before my turn, he just left.”

“So?”

“So, it’s suspicious. And I want to ask him why.”

“So, you’re breaking into his home?” he asked in dismay.

“Someone should be here. Why didn’t anyone answer?”

“Maybe he’s out?” Fordham suggested reasonably.

Kerrigan rolled her eyes. “Ellerby?” she called into the house from the small foyer.

He lived just off the Row in a sprawling townhouse that she had visited before and adored. She’d thought very fondly about taking up residence within this place at one point.

“Hello, Ellerby. Are you home? It’s me, Kerrigan.”

No one answered. In fact, it was eerily quiet.

“Kerrigan,” Fordham said softly. He pointed to a side table by the front door. A stack of letters sat unopened, tied together with a bow, as if they were all going to have to be sent on elsewhere. “I don’t think anyone is home… at all.”

She frowned. That made no sense. Had Ellerby gone back to Elsiande? He’d talked fondly of his home, but he’d never made it seem like he preferred the stuffy anti-magic south to a life in the city. He only went back on rare occasions. She could count the number of times in the last year on one hand. Without a dragon, travel was perilous. Most people only did it for large events or trade.

“You seem good with clues,” she told Fordham. “Could you…” She waved her hand at the letters.

“You want me to go through his mail?”

“Does that offend your princeling sensibilities?”

He scoffed, “You are a wicked little thing.”

She couldn’t help herself, she smiled.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to look around.” And then Kerrigan tiptoed through Ellerby’s house.

The tiptoeing ended up being pointless. It was truly deserted. Not a soul in sight. It didn’t look like anyone had even been inside to clean or tend to anything, except the mail. There were even dirty plates in the kitchen. Ashes in the fireplaces. The beds were unmade. The dressers had been thrown open, all the clothes were gone, and it looked like someone had left in a serious hurry.

Why in the gods’ name would he have rushed out of town so fast?

Kerrigan crossed her arms and looked around in confusion. Something was wrong here. She could feel it all the way through her body. A tingling sensation, like if she just looked, she would find all the answers. But it didn’t make sense. She had no answers.

In fact, it was even more frustrating than just assuming Ellerby had changed his mind. Because if he had changed his mind, then he’d run out of town in a hurry after he did it.

She was about to walk back down the stairs to see if Fordham had found anything when she heard a faint creak of the wood floor.

“Hello?” she asked uncertainly.

And then a shadow surged out of the darkness, brandishing an all-too-familiar knife.

Kerrigan saw the knife coming toward her, just as it had in her vision, and everything slowed to a crawl. She had thought that it had to do with the tournament, but it had come to this moment.

All of Kerrigan’s carefully honed instincts clicked into place from years of training in the House of Dragons, coupled with the last year in the Dragon Ring. She should have been frightened. Even terrified. Instead, she kicked into high gear, dodging the edge of the knife. The tip of it barely grazed her arm. Still, she hissed and pulled back from the shadow.

She didn’t know who this person was, but they were fast and clearly ruthless. How they’d gotten into Ellerby’s home without her knowing was a mystery. Not to mention, they were cleverly disguised—dressed head to toe in black fighting garb with a black mask obscuring most of their facial features. They were just a nameless, faceless monster.

“What do you want?” Kerrigan spat at the person.

But they didn’t respond. They just moved in quick, like a viper, and struck. Kerrigan pulled up her magic in time, trying to block their approach, but the person sliced right through her shield, as if it were made of butter.

Kerrigan faltered at that, letting her guard down for one painful second.