Page 33 of Crown and Dragon

I have a broken hand,by the way. I hid it from you when you were prepping to leave. I broke it on Anslem’s face. He is a prickbrain. I do not regret it. I won’t tell you what he said because it’ll only get me riled up again, and I’m trying to study.

Yes,prickbrain is a word. You can look it up in the library when you get back.

Your friend,

Fara

Chuckling,Tahlia blew out the candle and settled back under the blanket with Marius. She curled her body around his, soaking in the heat and solidity of him. His scent filled the air and she fell asleep with the thought that someday soon she’d be surrounded by Fara and the other knights, that Lija would be healed, and all would be well.

Tahlia woketo Marius gently shaking her arm. He stood over her, dressed and ready.

“It’s time,” he whispered.

Behind him, the guard with the dark eyes stood waiting, lines forming between her eyebrows.

After a quick chug of watered wine and gobbling down another corncake, Tahlia followed Marius and the guard out of the room and into the corridor. The dawn’s first gray light slid through archways in the passageway. The place was quiet as a tomb, but that was a good thing. It meant King Crazy was likely asleep and his cronies gone for the time being.

The guard stopped at the end of the third corridor they’d hurried down. This one bent sharply to the right. “Down there. Third door. You can’t miss it.”

“And our two are in place?” Marius glanced at Tahlia, then looked her up and down as if cataloging her breathing, stance, and general level of preparedness.

The guard breathed out, then pursed her lips. “As far as I know, one is on duty. Hopefully, both, but we couldn’t ask because there wasn’t any clear moment to do so without raising suspicion.”

“Understood,” Marius said.

“May the Old Ones bless you,” the guard whispered quickly before heading off.

Keeping her steps as light as possible, Tahlia trailed Marius through the shadows that the fire from the wall sconces tried to shatter. Golden runes glimmered above one of the doorways. The entrance was housed in an alcove. This had to be the one. The guards were likely right on the other side of the heavy oak.

Marius turned the doorknob.

A guard with a beard rushed out, opening the door outward and slamming it against Marius.

“Filthy Fae spies,” the man hissed as he lunged for Tahlia.

Marius was pinned to the alcove wall.

Tahlia bent to grab the dagger from her boot. Pulse flying as fast as Lija on a clear day, she shot upward, jamming the blade into the bearded guard’s throat. Gurgling, he dropped, and Marius slid out from behind the door and began dragging him into the room they’d just opened. The other guard, the one presumably on their side, looked from Marius to Tahlia, then grabbed the dead guard’s leg. He helped Marius hide the body behind a row of boxes.

The guard shoved his shoulder-length red hair out of his face, then tugged a linen cloth from his belt and started back toward the door.

“I’ll get the blood cleaned up. That guy was such an arsehole. Glad to see the last of him. Durniad was his hero.”

“How did he know about us?” Tahlia cleaned her knife on her trousers, then returned it to the sheath sewn into the inside of her boot.

“He was your man until last night.”

“Oh?” Marius’s face was flat, emotionless as he knocked on the green-painted flagstones that made a half circle at the next door—the entrance to the labyrinth. What was he thinking? Did he not trust this guard?

“Yes, he was down here late last night,” the guard said, “and when I showed back up this morning, he said Durniad had changed his mind. That he had it all wrong and that I had better get back on the right side of things or he’d kill me too. Didn’t manage that now, did you?” The guard snorted and laughed.

“Do you think Durniad used the crown on him?” Tahlia asked.

Marius found the right stone and pushed one side. The stone tilted, and Marius reached into the space below it.

The guard shrugged. “It’s possible, I guess. But Durniad is a great public speaker. He can charm anyone—even those he is about to kill in cold blood.”

“It’s a wonder he thinks he needs the crown,” Tahlia said.

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