could see it,” I said, leaning into the gentle rocking of the boat.
For a moment, it was like when we were younger, falling asleep together, with Trevor’s arms around me, the open sky above us. No masks or weapons, or immanent danger.
I never allowed myself to dream of a future together, not really, but it was hard not to wonder what life would have been like if I hadn’t been chosen; if I’d accepted Trevor’s proposal. He’d have taken over his father’s business. My mother would still be alive. And we’d be happy. At least for a few years. Until Loralie turned 17, and then it could all be taken away from us.
I tightened my fingers into fists, realizing how cold they’d gotten. I shifted gently out from Trevor’s arms. From the way his chest rose and fell, I knew that he was sleeping. Maybe that was for the best. There was something I needed to do, and it would be easier to do on my own.
I ran across the beach quickly, stopping to put on my shoes before entering the city and retracing our steps through the tunnels until I came out at the edge of the compound. Lanterns were lit along the walls, gleaming off the polished stones, and my eyes traced the path I needed to take, winding up the staircases to reach the renewal center at the top of the walls.
It was more austere than the cozy buildings of Algrave, and not as grand as the epic basilica in the citadel. This building was tall and pointy, like a black crown, with narrow windows that shone like yellow jewels in the darkness. The front doors were carved into elaborate scenes of the Culling, and the founding of the covenant. Scenes I used to take on faith, but which I’d now begun to question. There was so much we didn’t really know about that time. I wondered how much of the king’s history was really true.
The door was locked, so I pulled myself up on top of a spiked gate ringing the outer barricade, and shuffled sideways, clinging to the external frame of the building until I was out over the ramparts. I cursed at my gown, inching forward slowly so I wouldn’t trip on the bulky folds of fabric.
A bitter wind tore at my grip, and I sucked in a sharp breath, eyeing the hundred-foot drop below. But the effort was worth it; someone had left a window on this side open. I stuck my fingers into the narrow gap and lifted the frame, before climbing inside. Carefully placed lights illuminated sweeping arches and a high ceiling, that rose up into the tall vertical shaft of its apex.
At the top a bright electrical light rotated slowly, making the shadows dance like smoke around me. A central altar featured a golden statue of King Richard, his wrists slit, feeding the people his miraculous healing blood and saving them from disease. I searched the back rooms until I found what I was looking for; a box of elixir, stamped with the royal seal. I frowned at the heavy padlock that secured the lid, before glancing at the rudimentary bracelet April had made me.
It was blank, which meant I was running on fumes. I hadn’t had more than a few drops of Penelope’s blood on the journey, and I knew she’d probably never fed properly, not like most elite, so it was already weakened at best. I could already feel the drowsiness, though it could have been the whisky I’d shared with Trevor at the beach. At any rate, I didn’t have the tools or strength to open the crate and get what I came for.
Then I glanced up at the tower. I took the box in both arms, grateful it wasn’t that heavy, and began to climb the winding stairs into the tower.
At the top, I stepped out onto the narrow balcony overlooking the city, taking a deep breath at the now quiet and mostly dark town. On the edge of the walls I could see guards on their rounds, the glint of their swords and silver armor reflecting under the flaming torches. I wouldn’t have much time.
I hesitated briefly. Part of me knew this was a really bad idea. That’s probably why I hadn’t wanted Trevor to come. He would have talked me out of it; of risking more when we were already so exposed. But we needed this.