It didn’t make sense. He’d hidden these paths from me, along with my magic, my blood, and my past. And yet—he had loved me enough, too, to offer me this safety precaution alongside his own.
So did he trust me, or not? Or did even he not know?
“I don’t know,” I said curtly. “Maybe it’s just recognizing his blood in me. Let’s go. It’s this way.”
I drew my father’s sword from my back, trying and failing to ignore the overwhelming wave of his presence that hit me the moment my hand closed around the hilt, and started walking before Raihn could say anything else.
Not that he tried.
The tunnels were poorly maintained, narrow, and winding, a side effect of them being kept in absolute secrecy—they’d been built around the existing infrastructure of the castle by an extremely limited team of workers, and then never maintained afterward because Vincent did not want to risk a single soul knowing about them. After a hundred years or so, they were starting to show their wear. Even though Raihn and I were already under the castle, it took a good long while of walking before the tunnels began to look a bit more like the hallways I’d grown more familiar with.
Soon, we scaled sets of crooked stairs, leading us up into the building itself. Muffled, harried voices echoed through the walls—all of them frantic, even if we couldn’t make out the words.
“Sounds like they’re having a wonderful time,” Raihn muttered, as the unintelligible voices of warriors yelling at each other faded away behind us.
“Not sure that you’re in a good position to go judging someone else’s coup,” I said, “seeing how yours has gone so damned well so far.”
He laughed softly. “Fair point.”
We reached the top of this set of stairs, the tunnel now splitting off into two directions. I kept my voice low, conscious of how thin the walls could be in some parts of this ancient building.
“We’re behind the second-floor library right now.” I pointed to the left path. “That one’s yours. It will take you to the dungeons. Just go down, and to the right.”
Raihn eyed the other path. “And that’s yours?”
I nodded. It would take me up to the upper floors of the castle—up to my rooms.
My rooms, where I had hidden Vincent’s pendant.
Only I knew the convoluted path up to the top level of the castle. Only I could carry Vincent’s blood-bound artifacts. So that meant I had to be the one to go up to get it—because, of course, we couldn’t leave that in Simon or Septimus’s possession. We may not know what it was, but we knew it was too important to lose.
Which meant that Raihn would need to go to the dungeons to rescue Mische by himself, at least temporarily, until I could join him.
We’d talked this through at length. We couldn’t both go to both places, which would attract attention too quickly. Our only chance at achieving both goals was splitting up, albeit temporarily.
Still, now that our paths diverged, I couldn’t help but hesitate—my eyes lingering on Raihn’s body, where I knew his leathers hid evidence of still-healing wounds.
Despite myself, I was starting to doubt that this was a good idea.
“Are you sure you can do this?” I said.
His brow twitched. “Are you worried about me?”
“I’m being practical.”
“I’ll be just fine. I can handle a few of Simon’s guards. I’m the Nightborn King, remember?”
“I remember having to save your ass from ‘a few of Simon’s guards’ about thirty-six hours ago.”
His smirk faltered, like this was a legitimate sore spot for him. Raihn may try to play the unflappable king, but I knew he really, really didn’t like to lose. “That wasn’t a fair fight,” he said. “They drugged me. And surprised me. I look forward to the rematch.”
I was unconvinced.
“Besides,” he said, “if it all goes poorly, I just need to stay alive for a few minutes until you can come save me all over again, and I’ll even let you gloat about it all you damn well please.”
It was a little appealing. A little. Still, I couldn’t shake the knot of unease in my stomach.
Maybe Raihn felt some of what I did, too, as he gazed over my shoulder to the right path, stairs disappearing into shadow.
“Be quick,” he said. “In and out. Simon doesn’t deserve the honor of killing you.”
I scoffed, like this prospect was ridiculous. My bravado, though, was a little less convincing than Raihn’s. Yes, I’d killed dozens when rescuing Raihn. Yes, I’d won the Kejari. But I still had a lifetime’s worth of fear of vampires ground into me. A hard thing to leave behind.