Throne of Glass
Page 43

 
 
Chapter 26
The doors to her bedroom banged open, and Celaena was on her feet in an instant, a candlestick in hand.
But Chaol took no notice of her as he stormed in, his jaw clenched. She groaned and slumped back onto her bed. “Don’t you ever sleep?” she grumbled, pulling the covers over herself. “Weren’t you celebrating into the wee hours of the morning?”
He put a hand on his sword as he ripped back the blankets and dragged her out of bed by the elbow. “Where were you last night?”
She pushed away the fear that tightened her throat. There was no way he could know about the passages. She smiled at him. “Here, of course. Didn’t you visit to give me this?” She yanked her elbow out of his grasp and waved her fingers in front of him, displaying the amethyst ring.
“That was for a few minutes. What about the rest of the night?”
She refused to step back as he studied her face, then her hands, then the rest of her. As he did so, she returned the favor. His black tunic was unbuttoned at the top, and slightly wrinkled—and his short hair needed a combing. Whatever this was, he was in a rush.
“What’s all the fuss about? Don’t we have a Test this morning?” She picked at her nails as she waited for an answer.
“It’s been canceled. A Champion was found dead this morning. Xavier—the thief from Melisande.”
She flicked her eyes to him, then back to her nails. “And I suppose you think I did it?”
“I’m hoping you didn’t, as the body was half-eaten.”
“Eaten!” She crinkled her nose. She sat cross-legged on the bed, propping herself on her hands. “How gruesome. Perhaps Cain did it; he’s beastly enough to do such a thing.” Her stomach felt tight—another Champion murdered. Did it have to do with whatever evil Elena had mentioned? The Eye Eater and the other two Champions’ killings hadn’t been just a fluke, or a drunken brawl, as the investigation had determined. No, this was a pattern.
Chaol sighed through his nose. “I’m glad you find humor in a man’s murder.”
She made herself grin at him. “Cain is the most likely candidate. You’re from Anielle—you should know more than anyone how they are in the White Fang Mountains.”
He ran a hand through his short hair. “You should mind who you accuse. While Cain is a brute, he’s Duke Perrington’s Champion.”
“And I’m the Crown Prince’s Champion!” She flipped her hair over a shoulder. “I should think that means I can accuse whomever I please.”
“Just tell me plainly: where were you last night?”
She straightened, staring into his golden-brown eyes. “As my guards can attest, I was here the entire night. Though if the king wants me questioned, I can always tell him that you can vouch for me, too.”
Chaol glanced at her ring, and she hid her smile as a faint line of color crept into his cheeks. He said, “I’m sure you’ll be even more pleased to hear that you and I won’t be having a lesson today.”
She grinned at that, and sighed dramatically as she slid back under the blankets and nestled into her pillows. “Immensely pleased.” She pulled the blankets up to her chin and batted her eyelashes at him. “Now get out. I’m going to celebrate by sleeping for another five hours.” A lie, but he bought it.
She closed her eyes before she could see the glare he gave her, and smiled to herself when she heard him stalk out of the room. It was only when she heard him slam the doors to her room that she sat up.
The Champion had been eaten?
Last night in her dream—no, it hadn’t been a dream. It had been real. And there had been those screeching creatures . . . Had Xavier been killed by one of them? But they’d been in the tomb; there was no way they could have been in the castle halls without someone noticing. Some vermin probably got to the body before it was found. Very, very hungry vermin.
She shuddered again, and leapt out from under the blankets. She needed a few more makeshift weapons, and a way to fortify the locks on her windows and doors.
Even as she readied her defenses, she kept assuring herself that it was nothing to worry about at all. But with a few hours of freedom ahead of her, she brought as many of them with her as possible as she locked the door to her bedroom and slipped into the tomb.
•
Celaena paced the length of the tomb, snarling to herself. There was nothing here that explained Elena’s motives. Or what the source of this mysterious evil might be. Absolutely nothing.
In the daytime, a ray of sunlight shone into the tomb, making all the dust motes she stirred up swirl like falling snow. How was it possible that there was light so far beneath the castle? Celaena paused beneath the grate in the ceiling, peering up at the light flowing through it.
Sure enough, the sides of the shaft shimmered—they were lined with polished gold. A lot of gold, if it meant reflecting the sun’s rays all the way down here.
Celaena stalked between the two sarcophagi. Though she’d brought three of her makeshift weapons, she’d found no trace of whatever had been growling and screeching last night. And no trace of Elena, either.
Celaena paused beside Elena’s sarcophagus. The blue gem embedded in her stone crown pulsed in the faint sunlight.
“What was your purpose in telling me to do those things?” she mused aloud, her voice echoing off of the intricately carved walls. “You’ve been dead for a thousand years. Why still bother with Erilea?”
And why not get Dorian or Chaol or Nehemia or someone else to do it?
Celaena rapped a finger on the queen’s pert nose. “One would think you’d have better things to do with your afterlife.” Though she tried to grin, her voice came out quieter than she would have liked.
She should go; even with her bedroom door locked, someone was bound to come looking for her sooner or later. And she highly doubted that anyone would believe her if she told them that she’d been charged with a very important mission by the first Queen of Adarlan. In fact, she realized with a grimace, she’d be lucky if she weren’t accused of treason and magic-using. It would certainly guarantee her return to Endovier.
After a final sweep of the tomb, Celaena left. There was nothing useful here. And besides, if Elena wanted her to be the King’s Champion so badly, then she couldn’t spend all her time hunting down whatever this evil was. It would probably hurt her chances of winning, actually. Celaena hurried up the steps, her torch casting odd shadows on the walls. If this evil was as threatening as Elena made it seem, then how could she possibly defeat it?
Not that the thought of something wicked dwelling in the castle scared her or anything.
No. It wasn’t that at all. Celaena huffed. She’d focus on becoming King’s Champion. And then, if she won, she’d go about finding this evil.
Maybe.
•
An hour later, flanked by guards, Celaena held her chin high as they strode through the halls toward the library. She smiled at the young chevaliers they passed—and smirked at the court women who eyed her pink-and-white gown. She couldn’t blame them; the dress was spectacular. And she was spectacular in it. Even Ress, one of the handsomer guards posted outside her rooms, had said so. Naturally, it hadn’t been too difficult to convince him to escort her to the library.