With that, he’d kicked his mount into motion, and Kell had had no choice but to follow, or be left behind.
Now the bridge disappeared beneath them as they reached the northern bank, and the avenues filled by ostra-favored shops and houses. Alucard urged the horse on, slowing only as he turned at last onto a wide street.
Helarin Way.
He drew to a stop, and Kell stopped with him, the two dismounting as a carriage rattled past, and slowed, pulling up before the open gates of a well-lit house. It didn’t strike Kell as the kind of place rebels would meet—it had all the subtlety of a parade—but perhaps that was the idea.
“Mind the horses,” said Alucard.
Kell glared. “If you think you’re going in without me…” But he trailed off as Alucard shot him a long-suffering look, and held his reins out in the opposite direction. A shadow peeled away from the walls and took the ropes, first from the royal consort, then from Kell.
He shrugged out of his coat, and turned it, abandoning the grey exterior that he’d been wearing since his trip to the Sanctuary, and exchanging it for the lightless black of Kay’s mantle. He donned it again, exhaling as the new coat settled over his shoulders with a comfortable weight.
He slicked back his hair, and then pulled up the hood to hide the copper.
“Oh yes,” said Alucard blandly. “They’ll never recognize you now.”
Kell gave him a dark look, then reached into the coat’s pocket and withdrew a black mask, settling it over his cheeks. His two-toned eyes vanished.
“What are you supposed to— No, you know what, I don’t care,” said Alucard as he turned up his collar, and strode across the street, clearly unconcerned with blending in.
A man in white stood waiting on the front steps, his own face concealed behind a golden mask. The door was open behind him, but any view of the house beyond was hidden by the crisp black curtain that filled the doorway.
“Welcome to the Veil,” he said, extending a gloved hand. “Do you have an invitation?”
“Yes, of course,” said Alucard, patting his pockets. “Hm,” he said after a moment. “I must have left it in my other coat.” He smiled as he said it—the kind of smile that must have charmed others, but made Kell want to kick his teeth in. “But surely, you can make an exception.”
The host inclined his head. “I’m afraid,” he said, “I cannot.”
“Oh, wait,” said Kell, stepping closer and reaching into his coat. “You gave it to me.”
Alucard cocked a brow. “I did?”
“Yes, here it is.…” He looked down, and so did the host, only to go very still as the tip of a blade came to rest beneath his chin.
“Walk away,” said Kell softly, and perhaps the host caught the glint of his black eye, and guessed at the identity of Alucard’s companion, or perhaps he simply did not think it was worth dying for, because as soon as Kell withdrew the point of the knife, the host turned, and strode down the stairs, tearing off his mask and casting it into the bushes as he went.
“You know,” mused Alucard as Kell slid the knife back into his coat. “I think you’ve been spending too much time with Lila Bard.”
“So it seems,” said Kell, stepping past him and through the curtained door.
Inside, a wall of black and white masks lined the entry hall, more than half of them now claimed. Kell opted to hold on to his own, but Alucard selected a white mask, fastening it over his face. And together, they entered the Veil.
V
Pain.
Ringing, black-edged pain rolled through Lila’s head.
She couldn’t see. Her vision was gone, replaced by a flat, black nothing that made her chest tight, panic rising like bile in her throat. She had never been afraid of the dark, because the dark wasn’t really dark. There were always shades to it, layers of shapes and shadows. But this was different. This was impenetrable. This was blindness. This was the thing Lila had been afraid of since she lost her eye. But as her skull stopped rattling, and the pain quieted enough to let her other senses speak, she blinked, and felt her lashes scrape cloth.
Not blind.
Blindfolded.
She rolled her neck, which sent a fresh wave of pain through her skull. She flexed, tried to move, but her shoulders strained, and rope scratched rough over her wrists, along with something else—cold metal? Either way, it seemed her hands were bound behind her.
Once again, Lila reached for her magic.
And once again, it didn’t answer.
At last, her senses cleared enough to reach beyond her own limbs, and she picked up the weight of a body shifting on the wooden floor nearby. She wasn’t alone.