Page 93 of Of Masks and Fury

“The best kind.”

The lock clicked open.

Isi pushed the door inward, revealing a narrow stone passage beyond. Complete darkness waited, the kind of absolute black that swallowed torchlight and gave nothing back.

I stepped through first, my shoulders barely fitting in the confined space. Cobwebs draped across the corridor in curtains, clinging to my face and hands as I pushed through them. The smell of damp stone and rot matched the guilt twisting in my gut.

I thought of the fierce young woman who’d bonded with a dragon and fallen in love with my cousin. Who’d volunteered for adangerous mission without hesitation because she’d wanted to help end the threat to both our kingdoms.

I’d sent her into danger. I’d approved the mission myself, and now she was paying for it with torture and flight. I was responsible for anyone who got hurt under my command.

Those games Isi had played with her felt like grim rehearsals for this very moment.

If she died because of my orders?—

“It’s not your fault,” Isi said, as if reading my thoughts. “Addie made her own choice. She always did.”

I wanted to believe that. But the weight of command and every decision that put people I cared about in harm’s way pressed down on my shoulders, making me feel like I weighed more than the world.

We continued deeper into the passage, the darkness complete except for the faint glow of magic I used to light our way. Just enough to see a few paces ahead, not enough to draw attention if anyone looked down the tunnel from either end. It wasn’t one of my best skills.

Voices ahead made us freeze.

Men spoke in low tones, their words indistinct but close.

We stopped and went absolutely still, not moving until we were sure they weren’t coming our way.

The passage ended at another door. Through the cracks in the wood, I spied a small room. A glance showed it was empty other than brooms and buckets and mops.

We eased the door open and stepped into the closet, remaining there while peering through cracks in the door leading to a hallway beyond. I spied torchlight. Shadows moving. Two guards stationed near the dungeon’s side entrance.

Derren should’ve drawn them away by now. The fire should’ve started. We should have a clear path. But we didn’t.

Had something gone wrong?

We pressed together in the darkness, Isi’s back to my chest, my arms around her. Barely breathing. Barely moving.

My body aligned with hers perfectly, every curve and angle fitting against me in a way that felt both natural and devastating.Her sweet scent filled my nose. I wanted to hold her like this forever. I wanted to stop time and exist in this moment where it was just us, where the rest of the world and all its demands couldn’t reach us.

I kissed the top of her head, a promise without words.

Minutes ticked by. Each second stretched into eternity while we waited, pressed together in our hiding place, listening to the guards chuckle about how the next Day of Mercy would make for good executions.

How much longer could we wait? If the fire escalated, it could trap us down here, our diversion turning into real disaster.

Then the faint tinge of smoke wafted in.

“Fire.” The shout came from somewhere above us. “Fire in the servant’s quarters!”

The guards gaped at each other.

“Did you hear that?” one said.

“Yeah. Should we go?”

“It’s a fire. Everyone helps during a time like that.”

They bolted for the stairs.