Chapter 44

Except for the busted front doors, we left House Rivière intact, the lord and lady and their archers locked in a vault in the basement, all their wealth distributed between their former slaves with stern instructions to head west as fast as they could.

Ever since my little mouth vomit episode, Raziel hasn't said a word and Tristan has been carefully quiet, even when Tavion reported finding a mass grave at the back of the property.

The keystone was stowed in a bag slung over Tavion's shoulder, contained within a box similar to the one Tristan possessed. We hadn't taken the time to examine it, except this box was in pristine condition, the marking in the top of the box matching the mark on Tavion's chest, which was why he'd taken immediate possession of the thing.

"Whitehall Castle is less than a mile away." We walked due west down a narrow cart path, through bucolic glens and fields greening up with the first shoots of spring. "Not one of the powerful houses, but we should check it while we're in the area."

"We can search the rest of the estates," Tavion said quietly, catching my arm, Tristan nodding in agreement as he pulled me to a stop.

"What if you went back to Ravenshade…"

"I'm not hiding. Not from this." In truth, I wanted nothing more than to hide, to leave this realm behind and let Corvus consume this entire place with his corrosive rot down to the last grain of sand.

I hadn't been prepared for the memories this place brought to the surface.

Emotions I thought I'd buried too deeply to ever affect me again, but here they were, front and center, eating me alive.

All the anger and hate and pain that I'd let fester had grown into something monstrous. Something too big for me to wrestle into submission. Too big for me to even wrap my head around.

Easier to fight an enemy I could see than this darkness trying to swallow me whole.

Raz kept glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, using every opportunity to touch me, to feed magic into me, to mother hen me half to death.

I didn't want his pity, I wanted to fix this. I wanted to crush the Descendants and free the slaves and give them a chance to make a better life for themselves, but it was already midafternoon and we were running out of daylight.

Blackcastle was running out of time.

"We have to split up," I reluctantly decided when Whitehall came into view, the stubby white turrets flying the house's blue and gold colors. "If I drop the wall tomorrow, that should give the slaves time to reach Arcadia. Far enough to keep them safe."

Because it wasn't bad enough the wave killed, the magic also, apparently, turned people into monsters.

I pulled out a pilfered piece of paper from Rivière's office and handed a rough sketch of the area to Tristan. "You three keep going north. There are three royal estates that border each other, Houses Warde, Helme, and Fortney. Raz and I will head south to Harehollow."

Tristan looked like he wanted to argue then snapped his mouth shut, hand plunging into his pocket.

Raz's voice was quietly intense. "We have three keystones, Anaria. Three. I can fucking feel the difference already." He took a breath. "Let's call this a day and head back to Ravenshade. Get some rest, conserve your strength until morning when you drop the ward."

"I'm not leaving the stones here, letting these fuckers siphon off their power for a moment longer. They used those stones to subjugate people and keep them enslaved. Without the keystones, they're powerless."

Because that's what this was about.

Not more power for us, but less power for them.

I didn't care if we smashed the stones to bits with a hammer, I would not allow these arrogant fucks to use them to control another soul a moment longer.

"Then we make this fast." Tavion studied the sky, the banners flapping in the wind, the sentries scrambling on the ramparts, his jaw set. "In and out, and I'm not fucking around this time. I am done negotiating with these arseholes. We take what we came for."

We left Whitehall with yet another keystone, this one unidentified but every bit as powerful, magic thrumming around us when we parted ways at the end of the drive, Tavion and Tristan turning northward.

While we'd head south to Harehollow.

Something shivered down my spine. Not fear, not exactly, more like…premonition.

Lord and Lady Whitehall and their guards were locked in their own dungeon, their slaves packing the royal carriage with everything they could carry, hitched to the fastest horses in the stable. Raz gave them stern instructions to avoid Arcadia and head straight to Deepwater, where they could book passage on a ship.

We found no mass grave but heard stories of how the refugees had been driven off Whitehall land with clubs. Tavion might have misplaced the key to the dungeon after he'd locked the lord and lady inside, both of them screaming how we'd pay once they escaped.

When the last carriage disappeared down the drive, Raz lifted me onto the remaining horse from the Whitehall stables.

He wrapped his arm around my middle and turned our mount southward. "You're making a difference, Anaria." Raz leaned in and buried his face in my hair. "These people all have a chance at a better life because of you."

Unless I killed them all when I released the magic.

"Let's go." I leaned back against Raz and shoved my dread back down.

When we reachedthe outskirts of Harehollow's grounds, our obstinate mount wouldn't take another step.

Then I felt the air change.

A deep, ominous sigh like the world itself was disappointed, but the sound made my blood run cold, sending our horse prancing off the path. "What the fuck is that, Anaria?"

"I don't know," I breathed, clinging to the horse's mane with both hands to stay seated. "I've never seen any of Varitus beyond the Ravenwood estate."

I swallowed. "But I've heard the stories."

Nestled deep within ancient, overgrown grounds, Harehollow Manor was a dark, sinister monument with towering spires sharp as jagged knives, casting long shadows that seemed to writhe with a life of their own. Something moved in those shadows, furtive, creeping movements, and our mount snorted, yanking at the reins.

"We should turn around, Raz." I clenched my hands to stop them from shaking. "This place…they say Harehollow is cursed. Because the family that lived here did…evil things."

Dusk was still a few hours away, but the estate was covered in a lurking, oppressive gloom, swallowing fine details in darkness. Raz dismounted outside the ivy-clad wall cracked and weathered with age. "Don't get down. If anything comes out of those shadows, turn this beast around and ride hard the way we came."

"And leave you here? I don't think so."

We had magic.

More magic than anyone else in Varitus, but this realm held other dangers besides the Descendants. The air hung heavy with the stench of decay, mingling with the faint echoes of something big moving up ahead.

There were so many stories about Harehollow.

That within its labyrinthine corridors, the tormented souls of the castle"s former inhabitants still roamed, still paying for their evil deeds. I would have called bullshite on those claims, but now…This place sent a shiver of dread straight down my spine.

"Maybe we should move on," I muttered to Raz. "Go to Lockton House then meet the others back at Ravenshade."

A raspy growl echoed behind us, or maybe in front of us, I couldn't tell in the gloom, but Raziel went stiff, and I let my darklings spill out over the ground.

"Howlers," Raz muttered through grit teeth, blue-black magic hazing the air, and the horse reared backward.

One second I was in the saddle, the next I was flat on my back with the breath knocked out of me, staring up at a panicked Raz as our horse raced down the drive. A chorus of unearthly cries pierced the gloom, and all I heard was the beast's frantic whinny then the thundering footsteps of whatever chased behind.

I tried to move, but I couldn't draw breath, black spots dancing in my vision.

Raz wasted too much time feeding magic into me, fast enough to make me gag, but I finally sucked in a gasping breath, air searing my lungs. He opened his mouth to warn me before the Howler hit him, taking him down in a scrambling mess of hairy taloned feet and gamey, reeking breath.

I sent a sloppy blast of power at the Howler.

Missed completely.

"Go. Help Raz." My darklings slithered away and engulfed the Howler in a mass of wriggling tendrils, Raziel rolling away from the chaos, arms tucked in tight.

He climbed to his feet, bleeding from a gash across his cheek, another down his bicep, muscle gleaming through the blood. More Howlers roared down the drive, snapping their hinged jaws, teeth gleaming, nostrils flaring as they caught the scent of Raz's blood.

"Get down," I warned, and Raz dropped like a stone.

I sent out a wave of power, cleaving through everything like a battle-axe, neatly severing flesh and bone, arteries and organs, until the front yard shone with spilled blood and chunks of decapitated Howler.

The wave crashed into the front of Harehollow, shattering windows, cracking stone.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," Raziel muttered, holding his arm. Howls echoed in the distance. "This is our last fucking stop. We go inside, get the stone, then we're going back to Ravenshade." More howls broke the silence, closer this time.

"Go." Raziel shoved me toward the manor.

"Deal," I murmured, following him up the path to the front doors, blown wide open by my magic.

Harehollow Manor's darkness swallowed us the moment we entered, as cold as if we were treading along the veil between the living and the dead.

If Varitus was cursed, then this place was the root of that evil, and I reached out and grasped Raz's hand, wondering if we'd escape here untarnished.