Page 83 of A Whisper in the Walls

Screams. The screams of children.

He rushed inside without hesitation. He was no longer afraid of dying. The sound led him past four different rooms and up a flight of stairs. There was a pair of his soldiers in the hallway. Laughing together. They’d barred a set of double doors with an ancient-looking sword. Something they’d plucked from one of the displays. Smoke whispered out from the crack at the bottom of the door. The screams were coming from inside.

“Who is in there?”

Both guards reached for weapons, then realized who’d asked the question. Their temporary commander. “Just some Brood runts,” one answered. “Don’t worry. They won’t scream for much longer.”

Dahvid swiped the tattoo at his wrist. His sword hummed quietly into the air. His fingers closed around the grip. He saw the look the two men exchanged, a silent agreement reached. Their pact did not last for long. Three quick moves, and both slumped to the floor. Death always felt nearby now. Maybe it would feel that way for the rest of his life. Maybe it was the only thing he was good at in this world. He set his sword down and slid away the makeshift lock. A shove had the doors opening. Smoke flooded out.

A man stumbled free with three children in tow. Dahvid did not know who they were, and he did not care. They could have been Thugar Brood’s children. It did not matter. They would not die here today. He picked up the smallest one and walked them back through the halls. Outside, where the smoke could not keep blacking their lungs. The man thanked him but fell quiet when he saw the bodies piled in the distance. The strangers picking through pockets. His eyes cut back to Dahvid.

“No one will harm you. Or them. You have my word.”

He knew he needed to go back inside. Find out if there were other survivors who needed help, but he worried what might happen to the man and the children. He paced instead. His eyes kept flitting back to the little ones. The oldest couldn’t have been a day over ten. There were two brothers and a sister—or maybe cousins. It was like looking into a distant mirror. Being shown his own past, played out all over again. He realized that he had patiently and methodically done exactly what he’d promised to do. He had crossed the world. Summoned an army. Defeated the looming villain of his story. All so that he could shove the same chain of events back into motion. Would these children grow up as he had? Hating a name they whispered into their pillows each night? Dreaming of the day when they might find him and revenge all that they’d lost today?

This is what he’d done. And for what?

Cath was dead. His sisters’ fates unknown. Ware’s ghost had not thanked him. His brother had not come back to life as Thugar Brood fell to the ground. Dahvid had dreamed and dreamed and dreamed, and never once considered that he might be walking into a nightmare of his own creation. Yes, Thugar was dead. That much he knew was right, but the rest of it? How could he ever live with the rest of it?

He sank down to the ground. The children were watching him. Concern lined their small, round faces. The man approached. He had Ware’s face. Long hair, bright eyes. He looked like he would live forever.

“Are you all right?” he asked in the wrong voice.

Dahvid nodded.

“I just… I just need to sleep.”

And he did.

44 REN MONROE

The other great houses began to arrive.

From the ramparts, Ren could see banners flying for the Shiverians, the Graylantians, and the Winterses. There was an old joke that the Proctors were always the last to arrive, as they’d been on the last ship to reach Kathor. Their battalion could be seen snaking up the valley, just a step behind the others, almost as if they wanted to live up to their family reputation. She noted that they’d kept their companies deliberately small. Tactical units that she knew could do some serious damage, but none so large as to draw attention. That was expected. The leaders of the city would not want to advertise what was happening at the Brood estate until they knew exactly how it might help or hurt their own houses.

Theo took his place on the ramparts. He reached out, briefly squeezing her hand, before straightening his shoulders. He looked breathless but ready. There’d been a great deal of commotion. Putting out the fires inside the castles. Negotiating a reasonable amount of spoils for all the remaining mercenaries, so they could begin counting their rewards instead of hunting innocent servants. Tessa Brood had been captured. Thugar Brood was confirmed dead. It was finally quiet inside the gates, just as it grew noisy outside them.

Marquette Brood strode up the steps. She’d agreed to the transfer of power. Theo Brood would officially be named as successor. He would lead their house forward. Offered the chance to swear loyalty to him, Tessa Brood had spat on the stones. Then she’d cursed Theo’s children, his children’s children. She likely would have gone on cursing successive generations if he hadn’t ordered her to be taken away.

A group of emissaries came forward from the larger army. Ren saw Seminar Shiverian with them. Able Ockley was with them, too, his eyes tracing the ramparts carefully. Most likely he was searching for some weakness in the magic. Ren didn’t know the others by name, but she knew there was at least one representative from every major family. That wasn’t surprising. After all, the last coup had been during the War of Neighbors. Everyone would want to have a say in what happened next, because they all stood to gain or lose a great deal.

“Care to let us in?” Seminar called. “We’d like to assess the damage. Begin negotiations.”

Ren smirked. How casual of them. Theo answered.

“I can hear you just fine from there.”

The protection around the Broods’ estate still held. Theo and Marquette Brood were the only ones who could open the gates. What had been an obstacle now became a shield, holding the grounds from outside invasion. For all their power and magic, the other houses could not simply force their way inside, because none of them were Broods.

“I’d figure out a way inside eventually,” Seminar said, her eyes on Ren now. “There’s a key for every lock. All it would take is time. A few months maybe.”

“Let us spare you the trouble,” Ren said.

Theo nodded. “We think our way is easier.”

He gestured. Marquette Brood stepped forward so that the emissaries could all see her from below. “I have accepted Theo’s request. My husband is gone. My firstborn son is dead. My daughter has abdicated her rights. Theo Brood will officially take control of House Brood until he finds a worthy successor of his own.”

She choked out the last words and fled back down the steps. Some of Theo’s guards were waiting there. Ren knew she cared for Theo. Their last conversation proved as much. But she was certain that did not make it easy to bury another son, to lose a husband.

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