Page 66 of A Steeping of Blood
They hid him behind a stack of crates labeledcinnamonwith the EJC logo branded into the wood. Arthie ignored the rage that flooded her veins at the sight and transformed Calibore into a hairpin, tucking as much of her mauve locks away before pulling the guard’s cap tight over her head.
“Don’t lose sight of them,” Arthie whispered to Matteo, and they hurried across the yard in the direction of the wave of guards leading Jin around a bend. They kept their heads low and shoulders relaxed as though they belonged. Arthie stopped to snatch up Jin’s umbrella. She wasn’t going to leave such an important part of him behind.
Matteo nearly tripped, straightening with a curse as a red canister rolled to its side with a clang. “Why are there so many canisterseverywhere?”
He was right. They lined the covered walkway that ran the perimeter of the fort, going on for as long as Arthie could see.
“Fuel. Oil, I think. For the ships that port here,” Arthie answered. Jin was getting away. She tipped her hat down and kept moving. “Not now. They’re going to the sanatorium.”
The sanatorium looked like a miniature version of the fort with its gray-brown stone. As the guards neared, the grand doors groaned open.
“I don’t know if walking in plain view is a good idea,” Matteo murmured.
“We can’t let Jin out of sight,” Arthie said. Especially not when the men referred to him as though he wasn’t human.
The guards marched into the sanatorium, prodding and pushing Jin along. They passed through the threshold, Arthie and Matteo on their heels. There were plenty enough guards marching around, making it easier for the two of them to blend in.
Before the doors shut behind her, Arthie glanced back outside to where a woman stood in a sari the color of blood. Her mother—no. Her mother was dead, and Arthie’s mind was playing tricks on her.
Still, Arthie met her eyes, and the woman squinted at her through the sun with a strange expression, as though she couldn’t quite place Arthie and the clothes she wore.
Why are you here?Arthie thought those eyes asked.Why have you returned?
And then the doors closed, sealing them inside.
“Odd place,” Matteo murmured as Arthie tried to shake the woman’s uncanny scrutiny from her mind.Why are you here? Why have you returned?Had the sea not asked her the same question when she’d arrived? She forced herself to study their surroundings.
The sanatorium was a lot smaller than Arthie had thought it would be. It looked less like a facility housing vampires and more like a bank, with a welcoming foyer, windows, and lacquered wood, complete with a vault-like door near the back wall. The ceiling pitched high, with amural and lavish lights. Evening sunlight poured in through the windows, painting a cheery display. Out of place, stacked along the side wall and awaiting export, were crates stamped with the EJC logo.
“Tea,” Matteo said beside her.
Arthie knew one of Ettenia’s greatest exports out of Ceylan was tea, but it was different seeing it in person, and it wasn’t until Matteo brushed a finger down her arm, sparking a current in her veins, that she released her clenched jaw.
Behind the polished counter, a stately man wore a false smile and a short top hat. He nodded as the cluster of guards continued to that vault-like door in the back, dragging Jin between them. Arthie and Matteo followed, as closely as possible. The man didn’t look fazed in the slightest. He held up that fake smile and pulled a latch.
And the door began to open. It was imposing, standing with a sense of foreboding and finality. Arthie could hear mechanisms dislodging inside, groaning awake like a beast from its slumber. She quickly whipped her head away when one of the guards glanced back to the wide windows.
The door ground to a halt, and the guards continued inside in varying degrees of excitement: some hushed, some scared they’d found a vampire roaming the streets, others all but thumping their chests in a display of pride. Arthie considered thwacking one in the back of the head with Jin’s umbrella.
“Onward?” Matteo asked, eyeing the door with dubiety.
“Onward,” Arthie replied without breaking stride.
And the vault door shut behind them. It swallowed the last of the Ceylani sun, leaving them in wan light. A series of gears rolled and the door sighed as it locked into place once again. Their exit was barred, sealed shut like a tomb.
Arthie and Matteo exchanged a glance.
“This looks more like a sanatorium. A miserable one at that,” he said, taking in their surroundings beyond the short hall.
Indeed.
The structure was even larger inside, not because it sprawled or rose high, no. It was built deep into the ground. As warm as it had appeared from the outside, the inside was anything but. It was cold, sterile, and lifeless. The very air felt forlorn, and Arthie was about to agree before Matteo yanked her into the shadows of an alcove.
“Why—”
He pressed a finger to her lips, dragging a shiver through her, and nodded to where they had just stood. A pair of guards had pulled away from the group, circling back in suspicion. Matteo pulled her flat against him, and she forced away a memory of another moment like this. Atop the Old Roaring Tower.
She shivered and craned her head back. “This was entirely unnecessary.”
