That sounds strange. I flip the sheathed weapon over in my hand, eyeing it. It seems rather plain for a magical weapon. “And are you magical, blade?”
The thing positivelyshivers.
I yelp and drop it on the bed. For a moment, it felt alive.
Erynne picks it up again and holds it out to me. “I can’t be with you in the tower, but you can ask it questions about usback here. And you can ask it to give you advice about the other person in the tower with you. You might have to take drastic action, Candra. I know you joke that you’re a weak thing, but you’re strong, and you’re determined.” The look in her eyes is fervent as she leans in. “Both you and the Fellian must step across the threshold of the tower, and no one can enter or leave for seven years. Nothing says that both of you must be alive the entire time. Remember the stories of Old Eliza?”
Wordlessly, I take the knife from her again. I do remember. Old Eliza was of the Vestalin bloodline and served the tower two hundred years ago. She went in at the age of ninety and after seven years, she did not come out. They went in to find her and found a skeleton lying in bed, hands politely folded over her breast, and she had died of old age. Yet the kingdom had seen prosperity, because Eliza had never stepped foot outside the tower. “So you’re saying that I should go to the tower, murder the Darkfell sacrifice, and sit with the body for the next seven years?”
“If it’ll keep you alive.” Erynne’s gaze is hard. “Then yes, that is exactly what you should do.”
I shake my head, horrified at her suggestion. “I’m not a murderer.”
“Then you have two days to learn to become one,” my sister the queen says. “Because after you go into the tower, Lionel’s ships are going to sail for Darkfell. And if their Royal Offering has a way to get information from outside, they might come seeking revenge on you. Seven years is a very long time to be locked away with the enemy.”
Staring down at the knife in my hands, I clasp it to my breast and nod. I hate this. I hate all of it, and the situation seems to be getting worse by the moment. At least my sister wants me to go in prepared for anything.
If it’s as bad as she says it is, I might have to strike first, and the thought sends fear racing through me.
Chapter
Five
I’m awoken before dawn the next morning and dressed in a traveling gown. The court is not there to see me off, because my journey to the tower must be done in secret, lest we run into Darkfell assassins or even brigands from our own country. My sister and the king are there to wish me safe journey, but the goodbye is a tepid one. We hugged and wept (or at least Erynne did) last night. Today, she only touches my hands briefly and gives me words of encouragement for the sacrifice I am making for the kingdom.
Lionel only says “Go with the gods.”
I wish utter disaster upon him. Not Erynne, just Lionel. But I smile sweetly and curtsy because my sister is married to him, and she’s trapped as much as I am.
And then I’m loaded into a carriage at the head of our caravan, the escort from the Alabaster Citadel riding atop a white steed beside my coach. We move slowly along the coast, trunks of dresses and foodstuffs packed into the wagons behind my carriage, all of it guarded by the king’s military retinue and finest knights. The journey is faster over sea, but of course we won’t be going that route until it’s no longer avoidable. I think of Meryliese and the terrible shipwreck, and I can’t imagine whatmust have happened. Did she drown? Or was she crushed when the ship was destroyed? Or did the monsters of the sea finish her off? Her body was never found, so I assume any number of horrible fates.
I gaze out the window at the blue waters, trying to absorb every bit of the outdoors and fresh air. I’m told the tower has no windows, and that I must be careful with the candles packed for me, because they must last an entire year. Every summer the Gray Moon disappears for a day, and then we mortals are without any gods to watch over us. On that day, new supplies will be brought to me so I can continue to live on in comfort at the tower. They will give me no reason to leave.
Not that Icanleave, of course. The door will be bricked up behind me and I will be sealed in.
Just thinking about it makes a panicky knot form in my throat. I stare at the coast, willing something to happen. For the gods to step in. For a monster to rise from the shadowy depths of the waters and knock the tower into the sea. I give myself a vial of prepared medicine, feeling faint at the sight of the needle entering my arm. I want to throw up, but I force it back, shoving down the plunger on the syringe as quickly as I can. My head swims as the carriage rocks back and forth, dragging me onward to my doom. We travel through the night, and I do my best to sleep despite the continual jostling motion.
“Will I be saved from my fate?” I ask the dagger, trying it out.
Nothing happens. There’s no resultant shiver, and I frown and shove it into my bodice, tucking the sheath into my cleavage. Stupid knife. It doesn’t know anything. Erynne probably just gave it to me to make me feel better.
The thing shivers between my breasts, and I clutch the front of my bodice.
Okay, so the knife can pick up my thoughts. Good to know. Certainly not unnerving at all.
The hated tower comes into sight the next morning, just shortly after dawn. Now, when I look out to the crystalline blue waters of the sea, I see something large and menacing rising up from the waters themselves, like a hand reaching towards the heavens. That’s the tower, situated on a tiny island where nothing dwells. The reality of my fate sinks in and I take frantic, shallow breaths as I stare out at the detested spire that blots the horizon. Soon, we’ll board a ferry and make our way to the island, where we’ll meet the contingent from Darkfell and the ceremony will begin.
Is it too late to escape?
The knife between my breasts shivers and I choke back a sob. I won’t cry now. I’ll cry when I’m locked in the tower.
Years of courtintrigue have enabled me to keep a cool demeanor as we make it to the edge of Lios’s lands. For as long as I can see, the waters along the shore are empty and calm, gently brushing against the tall cliffs. I know just to the north, though, the beaches are covered with ships being loaded with supplies. Armored men practice drills, and sailors ready the sails for the upcoming departure. All waits upon me, and the moment I cross the threshold of the Tower of Balance, the war will begin.
But for now, all is peaceful, and I enjoy the sight of the beaches, as this is the last day I will spend outside for the next seven years.
I watch in silence as a nearby ferry is loaded with my trunks and cask after cask of dried foodstuffs. I have a list that Riza made for me of all the things they have brought for me, along with meal suggestions to make my supplies last. She’s truly tried to make this easy on me, and I should be grateful. I know she’sas anxious as I am because she loves me, but right now she’s with my sister back at Castle Lios and I’m staring down the Tower of Balance, which is a spindly, menacing finger on the horizon.
It’s hard to feel grateful for anything right now.