Page 93 of The Dragon and the Dove

Her face was drawn. ‘We never did talk about your plan.’

‘I’m still going with death.’

‘You’ll need a horse once you get out. Or, better yet, a Strix.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

The silence of the trees was eerie, as if the forest was listening in. The birds had abandoned their nests, no doubt fleeing when the Strix arrived.

They reached the northern treeline. Bellevue Castle was not far then, close enough that Ransom could see the stern faces of its archers and the long red tail feathers of the Strix that slumbered on the roof.

He dismounted the horse and adjusted his weapons.

Paola looked down at him, her brow furrowed. ‘What now?’

‘We part, with my thanks. You can turn around and ride to safety.’ Dipping his chin, he stepped back from the horse. Shadows plumed, kissing his fingers. His soul sighed at the release. ‘And I’ll go and do what I do best.’

Kill, and kill, and kill.

Stepping through the treeline, he set his eyes on the monolith before him. Magic spilled from him in great black rivers, swallowing the dawn light and casting a dark promise across the sky.

Death had come to Bellevue.

And it would not be merciful.

Chapter 23 Valerie

Midnight in the Hollows was noisier than the harbour marketplace on a sunny day. As a young Cloak, Val used to love it. Night after night, she would lie awake in her bed with a grin on her face, listening to the jaunty tavern music, drunken catcalls and bawdy cackles.

Tonight, she cursed those bastard taverns and their shitty music. While the rest of Fantome cowered in wait for the Silver-tongue Saint and his armies, the Hollows was kicking up its heels and getting pissed. Again. If she never heard another accordion in her life, she’d be blessed.

She was exhausted. Wrecked from their getaway from the Appoline and worrying herself mad over her friends: Sera, who had been taken hostage at Bellevue Castle, Ransom and Paola, who, in a hasty ill-advised plot had sneaked off to rescue her, and Theo…

Theo, who was fighting an enemy inside himself.

Soul-eater.

A saint-killer made flesh.

Things really had gone to hell around here.

Losing Bibi had been like getting her heart ripped clean out of her chest. Every time the memory seized her, Val felt a scream build in her throat. If anything happened to Sera or Theo, she wasn’t sure she would survive it. She wasn’t sure she’d want to.

Dark thoughts, Saint of Truth.

Worse than those out-of-tune accordions was the irritating voice inside her own head.

‘Shut up,’ she snapped at it. ‘I’m trying to sleep.’

It had been a long night. After unveiling the true insidious nature of Theo’s power, she couldn’t get out of that cloakroom fast enough. He had locked the door after her and hadn’t come out since. She’d run into Paola in the hallway. She was on her way to meet Ransom, who was waiting for her out on the street. With a stolen horse.

When Anouk woke up, she was going to be pissed.

Val was glaring at the ceiling, waiting for the sweet oblivion of sleep, when a wolf howled outside her window.

She bolted upright, sure she had imagined the sound. There were no wolves this far south of the Pinetops. Certainly not in the heart of the capital.

‘AWOOOOOOOOOO!’