Page 166 of Bloodguard

I pause to adjust my rings, attempting to act casual. The rings will go to Brynne and Lita in exchange for helping me smuggle the King Sword into my wing of the castle undetected. The coin from the jewelry will support their families for several years. I only hope that fear won’t force them to report me. Sorocannothave that sword.

“You’re dawdling,” Tut says, obviously annoyed I didn’t answer his question.

“Forgive me,” I say in the same tone.

I hurry down three more steps and almost trip when, instead of another step, my feet strike flat ground. Tut lights the next torch and moves to where the maze of bones begins.

I cough when Tut kicks up enough dust to form a film along my tongue. It’s sweltering down here. The close walls of the maze provide some relief, but it will only get hotter the closer we get to Aurora.

I cough so violently, I press my hand against the wall to keep my balance, only to jerk it back when my fingers slip into the eye sockets of a skull.

Disgust roils my insides when I think about just how many bones are in this place and how many lives were lost to make Aurora, and thus Arrow, stronger. It’s wrong. All of it. But Arrow is strong with or without a phoenix. Somehow, we’ll survive without Aurora. I just need to figure out how to release her myself without the risk of her falling into the wrong hands again. But not anytime soon. My first priority is retrieving the sword.

Tut coughs and spits on the ground when we take a wrong turn. “Ugh. I taste the dead.”

I cover my mouth.Me too, Tut. Me too.

We pick our way through the veritable minefield of bones leading to Aurora’s cage.

“I presume you plan to return here tomorrow?” I ask.

“Your birthday, wedding, and coronation are the distraction my people and I will need to free the phoenix.” He narrows his tiny black eyes. “You have to do this, Princess. I brought you down here like you asked. You owe us this.”

Something about Tut’s tone feels off. I wipe the perspiration dripping from my chin with my sleeve. His questsoundsnoble, but…as much as I need him, I definitely don’t trust him.

I try to act casual. My sweaty hands grip my skirt to flap it.

“Why did you wear that down here?” Tut asks, sounding annoyed.

“It’s how I’m sneaking the sword back to my people,” I say. “The black will also hide the amount of sweat sticking to me.”

“Ya,” he says as he turns to face me, sizing me up like an opponent, not a coconspirator.

And that’s when my suspicions are confirmed: Yep, I’ve walked right into a trap.

So be it.

chapter 60

Maeve

The sword hidden in my skirts—the one I’m planning to switch out for Grandfather’s—isn’t real. It’s a mere replica that Lita located in Vitor’s former apartment. It’s slightly shorter and about as sharp as a spoon. It’s made well enough that the real one won’t be missed if someone journeys down after us, but the blade is definitively not enough to bring an ogre down.

I let out a breath when Tut turns to continue through the maze. Ordinarily, I would never go unarmed like this, but Soro stripped my room of anything I could use against him, going as far as removing anything glass, including the bottle of belladom. I can’t imagine how he guessed my many fantasies about smashing it over his head and shoving the broken shards up his nose, but here we are.

I keep my eye on Tut’s dominant hand as he lumbers ahead of me. If I don’t reach Grandmother’s statue in time, my speed and agility will be my only protection.

Tut’s meaty shoulders droop with relief as we reach the end of the maze. The incline lies just ahead, ripples of heat pulsating from Aurora’s nest and creating small waves in the soil.

He motions me forward. “After you,” he says.

Ah, no. I don’t think so.No way am I putting this ogre at my back.

I pretend to cough. With all this dust and surging heat, it’s not that hard. I wave him ahead, my sweaty fingers so slippery, I fling off one of the emerald rings I’m wearing. It bounces off Tut’s hard chest and to the ground. He doesn’t pick it up.

“You first. You’re the one who must figure out the dynamics of the gate to set the great phoenix free,” I say, snatching the ring from the dirt.

He cocks his head, the muscles along his bulldog-like features tightening with distrust. Fine. I don’t trust him, either.

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