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The worst-case scenario etched itself into my mind. Oh, my scales. They were going to burn her. I knew that this was done because whenever they found anyone deserving of treason, they would burn their bodies as an example to the rest. I could see the flames and smoke filling the sky from my tower when this happened.
Sickness filled my stomach hearing the terror that released from her lips. There was only one explanation for her diseased face and how they were acting. Thiswasthe work of Deathlies. They were real.
Chapter fifteen
AURELIA
People were hastening out of the ballroom, picking up their dresses and lengthy tunics, heading out the front door with intention. Why did she come to the castle in the first place? How did she make it past the guards? Did they see the boils and not want to let her in? Thoughts raced through my mind. How did she make it in?
I felt someone grasp my hand and tug me out of the way and toward the same hallway where I ran into the man with the red suit.
I saw purple hair. Cora.
“Cora!” I cried out, desperate to speak to her about what I saw.
“Aurelia, what on scales do you think you are still doing here? Are you crazy? It’s past midnight! You know what your grandmother said! Your eyes are back to normal. I can see you! Anyone could see you!”
We were in the hallway, hidden from everyone else, but that didn’t mean we still couldn’t be caught or found.
“I saw them. The Deathlies.”
She was about to respond when I heard my father’s bellowed voice ring through the castle. “The party is over! Everyone out now!” Immediately I could hear the shuffling and scraping as each individual scurried through the ballroom floor, reaching the exit. No one wanted to have anything to do with the disease.
“You saw them? You are a fool for not going back to your tower. You could’ve been touched!” The wheels of my brain were spinning, roaring uncontrollably, not wanting to believe what I saw.
We waited in the hallway until we couldn’t hear any more footsteps throughout the castle. Cora grabbed my hand and pulled me out back to the main hall. My father stood there with a few of his counselors.
And Tobias.
The blood on his head had dried, becoming flaky to the touch. His eyes were bloodshot, and as they met mine, he glared, staring daggers I could feel as pinpricks throughout my whole body.
I sucked my lips in with anxiety. Thankfully, Cora was dragging me. Otherwise, I didn’t think I would’ve been able to confront him after what happened.
My father and the counselors turned to look at us. “Aurelia. What are you doing?” he said through gritted teeth, knowing that I shouldn’t be out of my tower.
“I know about the Deathlies,” I said, making it known to him that I wasn’t as naïve as he may still believe.
“In my chambers. Now!” he commanded everyone. We all shuffled after him, getting out of the exposed main hall, avoiding the plagued area.
We went up the large grand staircase where I was introduced as MissLaneux1 not long ago. The burnt brown wood railingstretched along the sides of the walls and reached up to the balcony of the upper floor.
Walking down a long corridor, canvases and flickering sconces lined the wall, the faint light illuminating the oiled paintings of the portraits of each king and queen prior to my father, protecting the Clandike Kingdom.
Taking a sharp turn, we were led to a large ornate door that was ink black and as tall as the ceiling. A man walking near my father reached into his pocket, pulling out a golden key. Unlocking the grand door, the room revealed what appeared to be my father’s chambers.
Entering slowly, I saw as my mother was lying on her ottoman near the fire, warming up her cold hands. Her hair was still intricately laced up from the party, and she was still in her fancy green dress with colored beads. She had a shawl over her shoulders as she looked back at us. However, her face was filled with concern, and she wasn’t acting like herself. Her motions were stiffened, and it looked as if she was frozen in place, scared to move. That was when I noticed the bruises speckled across her cheeks and neck.
Anger laced my veins at the sight. Was my father hurting her? Were those early signs of the disease? The thought made me ill. She saw me eyeing the bruises and self-consciously covered them up more with her shawl.
My father slammed the door as we all shuffled in. His golden and silver hair shimmered from the fire, his purple robes gleamed with rubies and diamonds.
“King,” the counselors bowed, “what shall you have us do?”
“I can’t believe it,” he mumbled, peering through his window. The room was dimly lit, with the fire being its only light source. There was anger in his tone, a fiery rage so brash I had never witnessed before. “There’s only one way,” he said.
“The relic,” Tobias said, turning to look at me. He knew I had the map. Did he make a copy? By the way his fierce scowl lingered, I knew he did not. However, his face was scrunched with worry. He didn’t want me to have the map.
“The relic, yes!” the king said, looking at the rest of us. “Tobias, I need you to go. My mother has the map, I believe?”
