34. Reina

Chapter thirty-four

Reina

J asper guides us down the gangplank past the two massive guards in pure gold armor. I keep my eyes roving and my expression full of awe as I take in the details. I'm no fawn when it comes to court politics and playing the game. Observing everything is key to survival.

The knights don't appear to have any breaks in their armor where one usually would under the arms, at the torso, and near the groin. The golden light we passed through was most certainly someone's magic, and based on Jasper's recounting of the day he lost his family, I'm going to bet it's Vansen's.

Could these knights be constructs he's controlling? That would take massive amounts of magic to maintain.

Mother did something similar with the guards who observed me, though I'm not sure how. Sometimes their eyes would go black, and they'd follow her every order without a word. But those were men and women she was commanding; these things appear to be seamless suits of armor.

My fine shoes clip-clop on the dark path as we walk double-file toward a massive doorway. The orange light that glows from within appears welcoming, but there's something sinister about the lack of warmth coming off the rocks.

The sea is unnaturally calm here. There are no waves smashing against the cliffs or rippling around the pillars of the pier. It's so placid it feels dead.

The other lords and ladies chatter avidly as we reach the gate, and none of them notice the clanking of the gangplank being removed. I glance over my shoulder to see the golden knights shoving the ship back to sea.

The captain catches my gaze, and he waves farewell with a wide, malicious grin. Definitely a trap, then. The false king must have some big plans for tonight.

No one but Jasper and I see this happening, as if all the others are blinded by the glowing light ahead of them. We share a look that says, "No going back now," and continue onward.

The heavy clomping of the golden knights behind us has no rattle of armor about it, but a ringing like a bell. The vibrations make the muscles in my jaw tense and the scar of the protection rune on the back of my hand itch. Thank the gods Jasper acted so quickly, or we might be just like these lambs walking into the slaughterhouse.

And I do believe our deaths wait in there. Or at least, our imprisonment. Why else would Vansen send the ship away for a single-night's stay? It doesn't make sense.

The archway looms high above us, and details within the hollow cliff become visible. Massive magus lights that radiate gold energy are suspended from the ceiling, and each one has a strand like a thread of spider's silk leading down, down, down to…

The golden knights.

No, not knights, I realize with sickening horror.

They're golems: twisted abominations of inanimate things bound with the souls of the dead. Alyse read me stories from history of such things being used in war, the fallen soldiers on the field "harvested" into mindless constructs that could follow orders perfectly and did not fear pain or death.

But that magic was outlawed in an accord between the four great nations centuries ago, and the knowledge on how to replicate it was destroyed. Or so the history books said. I could be wrong, but this looks like the dark magic of old.

I tighten my grip on Jasper's arm as we get closer to the archway. We could still run if we wanted, dive into the sea and swim to safety—well, Jasper would swim and I could hold on. But we would be leaving his family behind and losing our one good chance to free them.

Jasper pats my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, commanding the muscles in my gut to release the death grip on my stomach. Everything will be all right. We're strong together.

There are twelve more golems inside, moving about with the lords' and ladies' luggage. A slender woman in a gold slip with long, dark hair waits at the threshold to welcome us in.

"Your things will be brought to your room," she says, reaching out for the luggage of the people ahead of us. The man and woman hand over their bags without even looking at her. They're avidly discussing what kind of band might play tonight, and if there will be fruit in the spread.

Jasper and I step up to her next and she repeats the line in the same dull tone without meeting our eyes. Immediately, I realize we're out of place.

"I just can't wait to dance. It feels like it's been so long," I say to Jasper with an animated smile as I pass over my small handbag. There's very little in it: a lip rouge, a few bobby pins, and our party invitation.

"Yes, we'll have to remedy that with enough dancing to last a lifetime tonight," he replies with a smile as he deposits the luggage into the woman's care without looking at her.

She makes a snort in the back of her throat that might be a scoff, or a laugh, but I understand what Jasper is quietly saying. He knows this trap is for all of us, and we're not intended to survive this evening.

The entrance hall is filled with luggage that's been emptied. Clothes are being sorted by one golem as another goes through jewelry. The hall is wide and the stone below us is rough, unpolished, but the guests all act as if this is the nicest foyer they've ever seen as they ooh and aah at the hanging magus lights that power the golems.

Another woman with dark hair and a similar slender build waits at the next wide-open door. "Please present your weapons to the doorman to enter the party," she repeats without breaks in-between.

Jasper shifts beside me and I glance from the corner of my eye to see him move his pistol from an interior pocket to his sleeve. His arm bulges and contorts, taking on the opal sheen of his octopus form for a brief second, and then the pistol is gone—but his forearm is massively bulky. It looks like a disfigurement, for goodness' sake, but at least we'll have something.

He releases my arm to grab the dagger from his other hip and presents it to the golem at the door as he asks, "Do you think we'll have time to tour the magnificent palace before the eclipse?"

"I'm not sure, dear, but I hope so," I say, throwing the brother-sister thing out the window. We were supposed to be siblings and Jasper was going to present me to the king for marriage since he was adamant that he wouldn't present me as Reina Hilden. But no one is going to know what our previous cover was—they didn't even check our invitation—and I'd prefer not to have to maintain my distance from Jasper.

"I hope so, too," he says as he takes my hand again and walks forward.

The next doorway deposits us into what I would call a proper antechamber. The floor is polished and clean but still the dark natural stone on which the palace was built. The walls are decorated with fine paintings interspersed between curtained alcoves where couches and chaises await travel-weary guests. But no one stops to rest, despite the journey being long and many people losing their breakfasts. All the guests march on, two-by-two, chittering avidly about nothing at all.

The magus crystals are smaller here, embedded in hanging chandeliers that blaze with warm fire. Every few alcoves, a golden golem stands sentry, sightlessly observing the procession of livestock. Gossamer strings of magic link the golems to the crystals at the heart of the chandeliers. It's an incredibly intricate network. If I wasn't so disgusted by Vansen, I would be impressed.

"There must be an absolutely wonderful balcony from where we'll view the eclipse," Jasper says, trying to keep up the appearance that we too are part of the unknowing flock.

A balcony would give us access to the outside, and if it's surrounded by water, we might be able to slip away to other parts of the palace. How we would get over the balcony with so many people watching is beyond me. And if we're watching the eclipse from it as he suggests, we might not be able to slip away without notice. Who knows how many more golems are up there?

"Perhaps we could go to our room first to freshen up," I suggest. If we can discover more of the layout of the palace, we'd be in a much better position for a rescue attempt.

"Guests are to go directly to the entertainment hall," a stern male voice calls from one of the golems as the crystal in the chandelier overhead glows brightly.

We're being observed.

Wonderful.

Not as if this mission wasn't difficult already. Murder a power-hungry false king and rescue mind-controlled selkies without a layout, an escape plan, or anything else. Now we don't even get to communicate with one another clearly.

"I do hope they have chocolate in the spread. It's one of my favorites," I say.

"I would love a bit of chocolate," Jasper replies, his arm squeezing me tighter against his side.

There's no code now, we're just trying to fit in and not get plucked from the procession before we find out where we're going. Will they restrict our magic once we get there? We can't allow that to happen; it would certainly be our death.

"If they try to give us bracelets, I think we should decline. I have the bracelets you gave me back home, and I don't need any more," I say in the least elegant code ever. I could not be a spy, that's for certain.

" Bracelets I gave you," he says with a scowl. Gods, he doesn't know the word…

"Well, they're not the most beautiful, but they're a reminder that we're bound together, and I like that."

He hums and nods. "Those are the only bracelets I want you wearing. If they offer you any, we will decline together."

By the grace of the gods, we're planning. Not much of a plan, but we're at least both in step with what comes next if they try to chain us.

The long hall ends at an elaborate, winding staircase that disappears into the ceiling twenty feet above us. The railing is carved to look like an angry sea serpent. Its jaw is opened wide, and sharp teeth threaten each guest that approaches. Two garnets sit in the eyes, glinting with bloodlust.

A chill runs down my spine and I hold Jasper tighter as we ascend the stairs. I want to destroy the entire palace, not just the king. This place is evil, just like Fynren Palace. I'll have it destroyed, too.

The chatter in the stairwell has my fraying nerves at the edge. My body itches to move, run, get away from here, but I keep my breathing deep. I keep my heart calm and my mind sharp, just like Jasper taught me.

The opening to the entertainment hall is flanked by two golems. They're holding serving trays of champagne flutes filled with an oily gold liquid. They hand a glass to each guest as they pass into the room. Jasper and I take ours with fake smiles, and I say something mindless to him about the beauty of the palace.

When my eyes track back to the room ahead, I freeze.

It's dark, lit only by flickering red candles. The walls are covered in malicious runes that turn my stomach and raise the hairs on my neck. There is no balcony, no windows, and only one door beside a raised altar on the other side of the evil chamber.

Vansen stands behind the altar like a priest of Zephrom giving a sermon. His magic flows up the wall behind him to a massive magus crystal that hangs above us. It's fueled by his power, and strings connect to the ten golems standing watch.

The king speaks Illyan in a booming voice that gets my feet working again. My Illyan is basic, and I didn't understand a thing. He grins, raising his arms, and this time I do understand him. "Welcome to the end."