Page 69 of Blood Red Woes

When I don’t say a word, Rune admits, “I think things would be very different if I had a body.Very.” He puts a lot of emphasis on that last word, which causes my thoughts to branch off in many directions.

How the hell am I supposed to take that? What does he mean by it?

“How different?” The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them.

Rune sighs, and it’s like he’s right next to me, sighing into the crook of my neck. I shiver in spite of myself, unable to control the mirrored sigh that escapes me seconds later. His voice comes out low, his accent making each word sound a strange mix of irresistible and dangerous, “Perhaps that is a question we can revisit after we figure out what’s going on over Acadia. For now, I believe it’s best if you try to get some rest.”

I don’t want this conversation to be over, but he’s not wrong. Even with the storm outside, I am inexplicably tired. Even my bones are tired.

“Fine,” I mutter with a yawn. “But we will revisit this conversation later.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Getting to the castle is not the easiest thing with a shadowstorm raging around. The first time I was here, I could spot the castle walls from the river, and I was able to hop off the river and march right up to the front gate. This time, I don’t see the walls through the scourge until I’m surfing along the river, around the side of it.

Going back would mean backtracking quite a bit, so I use magic to help me climb up and over the outer wall.

The storm doesn’t stop at the wall. It covers the entirety of the Acadian castle. The village, the afflicted people roaming the streets; I can’t see any of it. It’s all covered in a thick, black haze. It makes parkouring off rooftops to get to the castle a lot harder.

The gates blocking off the way to the castle are still closed. I fling myself over them and land with a magical thud, the yellowish-white sparks from my magic the only bit of light around me. The shadowstorm is everywhere, even over the castle. Something had been keeping it out of the castle grounds before, but now… now it’s running wild, and I worry that the Emperor has become one of the afflicted as well.

I’m still calling him the Emperor. I don’t know his name; the dude never shared it.

I race up the steps to the castle as quickly as I can, and the moment I see the doors, I throw myself at them and burst inside.

The air inside the castle is clean enough, though stale and stagnant. Better than the shadowstorm outside. As the doors swing shut behind me, I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with air that’s not tainted by the scourge.

I give myself a few seconds to gather my breath and calm my heart, and then I push on. Walking down the carpeted path, Ishould be greeted with the same sight as I was before, the last time I was here—but it’s not the same.

The vines that were growing on the walls, surrounding the picture of Empress Morimento, are dead and withered. A result of the shadowstorm outside that’s been raging constantly, or is it from something else? Something nags at me, but I don’t know what it is, so I ignore it and push deeper into the castle.

With the storm raging, it’s dark. The candelabras on the walls that had burning candles the last time have nothing on them, nothing but old, spent wax and no flickering flames to be seen. I have to use my tattoo to light up my way.

Something is wrong here. I can feel it. My instincts are flaring to life just as they did in Laconia right before the shadowstorm swept across the lower district. I don’t know what it is, though, and I have no choice but to keep going.

I follow the carpet that leads to the throne room, and my feet stop me just before the doors. The only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing—the anxiety of knowing something is wrong without knowing exactly what’s off is taking its toll.

My palms sweat. My skin crawls. The only thing that’s left to do is go inside that room and see what I’m dealing with here.

If the Emperor is off the throne and one of the afflicted, I’ll have to kill him. With any luck, killing him will end this eternal scourge and stop it from happening in Laconia again. But then, when has my luck ever been good?

My hand reaches for the door, and I steel myself as I push inside, ready for whatever will come.

The inside of the throne room is not like the rest of the castle. It’s bright, and the sun shines through the glass behind the throne, enough to illuminate the wide space. It’s like the shadowstorm no longer rages outside—but that doesn’t make any sense. The same guards that lined the walls the first time Iwas here remain in place, as if they themselves haven’t moved an inch.

The throne room is completely untouched.

What…

I cautiously walk past the guards, moving toward the throne. The Emperor sits, his gloved hands flexing on his armrests, his blond head tilting as he watches me approach with an expression I can’t read.

I’m about fifteen feet away from him when I open my mouth with the intent of asking him what the hell is going on here. I want to know how this can be possible when so much of the land is engulfed in the scourge, but I don’t get the chance to. The Emperor speaks first.

“And here I thought you wouldn’t come back.” His eyes, a brilliant, vivid blue are so focused on me, his expression so intense, that the breath is knocked out of my lungs. The corner of his mouth quirks in the quickest smirk I’ve ever seen, causing my stomach to twist involuntarily thanks to how handsome he is. “I was beginning to wonder what else I’d have to do to drag you back to me, Rey.”

The way he’s talking… doesn’t sound like someone in need of help. Shit. Is this guy the reason for the shadowstorm over Laconia? Am I going to have to kill him just like I killed Empress Gladus?

Fuck. And here I’d started to hope he’d be able to help me find my way home.

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