Page 29 of The Shadowbound King

The distant sound of a door opening echoed down the corridor.

Ginhad grabbed my arm, mild panic on his face. “Let’s get out of here. That’s probably Lerendyl coming to invite me to another evening of hippocras and horseshoes, and there’s not enough hippocras in Ishulum for me to forget where he puts the stake.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “Why don’t you just travel through the shadows?” Immediately, I wanted to take the words back. If Ginhad didn’t have awere, maybe he couldn’t run the shadows, either.

But he didn’t seem offended as he hustled me toward a wide staircase. “It’s not safe. Not with Autumn’s magic so imbalanced.” He frowned. “And I don’t know if we should be talking about this, so?—”

“Throw rug,” I said. “It’s fine.” I’d gathered more information. For now, it was enough.

After a few more twists and turns, we neared the biggest set of doors I’d seen since entering the castle. Fashioned from thick, black wood, they gleamed under the chandeliers. Ornate carvings decorated every inch, filling the panels with trees and animals.

Like the other doors I’d encountered, they swung open as we approached. A Great Hall spread before us, the soaring chamber easily four times the size of the hall at Purecliff. Wooden trestle tables lined the walls. Their benches were empty, the hall quiet and seemingly unoccupied. Massive chandeliers fashioned fromantlers filled the hall with light. A dais at the far end held a carved wooden throne and several other chairs.

As they had outside, gold and red leaves tumbled slowly from the ceiling before fading from sight.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

Ginhad squinted at the rafters. “A few years ago, someone charmed the leaves to look like anal beads. That was a sight. Noisier than you might think.”

I didn’t know what to think. And my confusion must have shown on my face, because Ginhad rubbed his jaw.

“You’ve never heard of…?”

I shook my head.

He released a wistful sigh. “Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t. We used to be a lot more respectable in the Autumn Court, except at harvest time, of course. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. For as long as I can remember, it’s been nothing but riding crops and the aforementioned anal beads.” He turned his gaze back to the ceiling, his expression thoughtful. “I think we originally imported them from the Summer Court. They’re wild in the South, with their oils and gladiator matches.” He gave a low chuckle. “More likeglad-he-ate-her.”

After a second, he looked at me. “You know, likegladhe…” Ginhad cleared his throat. “I’ll show you where we keep the wine.”

It only took a few minutes for me to learn which tables to serve first and where to carry empty cups for the kitchen staff to clean. Once Ginhad pronounced me competent to keep the castle’s nobles plied with wine, he announced we’d visit the stable next. “But we’ll have to keep it short,” he muttered. “I’m starting to feel too sober for comfort.”

We made our way to the courtyard, which looked much larger now that it was deserted. Leaves tumbled through the air as we crossed terraces and passed under stone arches. Wedescended several wide staircases to what appeared to be the lowest level of the Embervale. When I looked up, the castle rose above us, its towers piercing the sky.

But when I looked toward the meadow I’d crossed with Rane the day before, the Edelfen was a black stain on the horizon.

“It’s best not to look at it,” Ginhad said, his voice uncharacteristically somber. He guided me down a path that led to a low, stone building flanked by a paddock. The scent of leather and manure permeated the air.

Some of the tension eased from my shoulders. In my time as a healer, I’d tended animals as well as humans. Animals were always better patients.

Ginhad stopped outside the paddock’s sturdy-looking fence. “Our mounts can be a little unconventional in the Autumn Court. We don’t have many?—”

The thunder of hooves cut him off. I whirled as a cloaked and hooded rider clattered into the stable’s small courtyard. The horse was winded, its sides heaving. Mud splattered its legs, and sweat glistened on its black coat. A deep gash on its chest bled freely. A thick, black cloth wrapped around its head. With a start, I realized it was a blindfold.

The rider brought the beast to a halt. Dismounting in a single graceful movement, he ran a gloved hand down the horse’s side before moving in front of the animal. The horse shied, blowing hard through its nose.

“Whoa…” the rider murmured. Slowly, he pulled the blindfold away and pressed his forehead to the horse’s forelock.

I held my breath as the horse appeared to calm, its eyes drifting shut. After a moment, it whinnied softly. Its long tail swished, and its breathing slowed.

The rider lifted his head. Then he swung toward me and yanked his hood down.

Surprise jolted me. The rider was an elvenwoman. Tall and beautiful, her black hair was braided away from her face and threaded with diamonds. A thick black scarf circled her neck. Long lashes framed her bright blue eyes. She was dressed like a warrior in leather trousers and silver armor. Her chainmail shirt clinked softly as she strode forward.

“King Andrin and the others are coming,” she said, addressing Ginhad. “We have several injured. Fetch Othor and tell him to be ready.”

Ginhad sketched a hasty bow. “Of course, Lady Vivia. I’ll go at once.”

The woman’s blue eyes landed on me. Her mouth tightened, and her expression went hostile as she lowered her eyes to my collar. “Put the king’s pet back in its cage before you seek Othor. It shouldn’t be out in the first place.”

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