Blood Prophecy
Page 45

It was too easy to picture them falling out of their blood-soaked beds, littered around the fire or discarded in the hay, the horses wild with the scent of violence. Still, I wasn’t actually convinced it was enough to cause Madame Veronique’s fear of her. After all, she hadn’t stopped her son from chaining his wife to a post on and off for years, all because they assumed Lady Venetia cheated on him. They’d had no idea yet that the Drake men could father children, even as vampires. It was horribly unfair. As was what had happened to Gwyneth. It made sense now, why she hid in the forest, with her scarred throat, bruised face, and blood on her gown. And I understood why she wanted to stay away from Viola. But I was going to need her help if I wanted my undead life back.
I left the relative safety of the cupboard, creeping out as quietly as I could. I paused long enough to rummage through the clothing hanging from the hooks, choosing a simple gray cloak and pulling its hood up to conceal my face. The hall was deserted and cold. I took the spiraling stone staircase, trying to move as if I belonged here and had a purpose. The guards would be searching for a girl who was clinging to the shadows.
I was so nervous when I passed the first knight, I was sure I was going to throw up all over him, especially when he stopped me. His arm blocked me. “Supper’s late in the kitchens,” he said. “Lend them a hand, would you? I’m half-famished.”
I swallowed, grateful that Aunt Hyacinth had been so strict about teaching the proper curtsy. She’d made me practice for so many hours I could now curtsy perfectly even when terrified and nauseated. “Yes, my lord,” I whispered.
He let me pass and I struggled not to break into a run. I followed the circular stairs, listening intently for shouts of alarm or warning. There was nothing but the murmur of voices from the hall and the cursing of the cook in the kitchen. He was red-faced and sweating through his shirt as he wrestled with a giant pig on a roasting spike. I skirted around the doorway, heading lower still to the cellars and dungeons. Another guard waited at the bottom of the steps.
“You there.” He frowned. “What are you doing down here?”
I smiled, hoping it didn’t look like a grimace. “The cook sent me for turnips,” I said. “He’s in a right bad mood.”
The guard snorted. “Not turnips. Can’t stand his mashed turnips.”
“I’ll see if I can find some leeks instead.”
He smiled. “Good lass.”
I went down the corridor and turned the corner out of sight. I allowed myself a brief moment to slump against the wall and catch my breath before continuing on to the fallen-in tunnel. Dust and debris leaked out from under the door. I’d been hoping I could clear just enough space to fit through, but the door was wedged shut with the pressure of the dislodged stones. I’d have to find another way out. For that I’d have to pass the second guard again. I opened all the doors until I found a cold cellar with barrels and baskets full of turnips, leeks, dried lentils, and onions. I stuffed leeks into a basket and headed back out, making sure the guard saw that I’d left the turnips behind. He winked at me.
Since everyone was currently obsessed with food, I’d use it to my advantage. I dumped the leeks out onto a table littered with carrot tops and stuffed the basket full of bread and apples. I added a wheel of cheese wrapped in cloth. “Eh, where you off to with that?” the cook barked, as he hacked off one of the pig’s legs with a giant cleaver.
“To the gatehouse,” I replied, keeping my eyes downcast. “They’re complaining.”
The cook snorted. “They’re always complaining. Don’t take them good cheese.”
I left the cheese behind and slipped out the door before he could stop me again. The courtyard was full of knights bustling back and forth and a man in a stained coat feeding the dogs in the kennel. Fires burned in iron holders, belching smoke. The sun was setting slowly behind the trees on the other side of the lower bailey. I wanted to sneak out before night fell completely, just in case Viola was stronger at night. She was a vampire, after all.
I went through the first gatehouse without incident. The grassy lawns were empty of knights as they returned to the hall for dinner. I hurried to the last iron gate, glad to see the portcullis was raised. One less obstacle to deal with.
I stopped at the arched doorway. “I’ve brought your supper,” I called up the tower. My voice echoed. I took one of the torches out of its holder as the guard came down the stairs, scowling. “About time,” he said.
I just smiled and whacked him in the head with the torch.
He hit the wall, his helmet ringing against the stones. He slumped on the stairs. I shoved his feet up out of the side and then put the basket next to his head. “Sorry,” I whispered, before replacing the torch. And then I darted over the bridge, trying hard not to look at the moat of bobbing corpses. Sunset leaked red light through the trees, reflecting off the murky water. Bile burned the back of my throat. I ran faster.
An alarm bell started to ring from the gatehouse. My lungs and leg muscles were taking turns stabbing me by the time I reached the edge of the forest. The sun had nearly completely set. I could see the shadow of the dragon circling over the castle and the borders of the woods, silhouetted against the lilac and red sky. I ducked into the oak trees, pushing the hood off my head so I could see it better. I had no way to fight it if it saw me and decided to attack.
I followed the scorch marks from my last encounter with the dragon until I reached the caves. Warm firelight glowed from one of the openings. I climbed up, sweat soaking into my hair, which lay cold and damp over my neck. By the time I stumbled inside, I was covered in dirt and grime. Gwyneth didn’t even look up from the fire she was poking with a stick. “I knew you’d be back.”