Page 30 of Music of the Night
“Last night.” Samara squeezed my arm, her eyes sightless as she stared into space. “Madame Blu found her near the cellars, where the trapdoor is. It leads to an underground lagoon that’s long been disused, but we keep the grate locked.”
With a pang, I recalled that I had unlocked the grate. I’d let him in. This was my fault.
Trembling, I threw my arms around Samara and we held each other, rocking back and forth in sorrow and grief. Why hadn’t I listened when Uriah told me to run? Count Zorik was right, I had done this. I had opened the door and let the devil inside. Guilt racked me like it had when my father passed. I’d always wanted more than I had, and my desires led to corruption. My father had given me everything I requested, which led to massive debts and the ruin of our family. My ambition to sing had led to murder and bloodshed.
Pulling back, I faced Samara. “I’m sorry,” I told her. “We have to leave High Tower Castle, we have to get out of here.
“And go where?” Samara begged, eyes wide. “We have nothing.”
“We can steal horses and ride away to the city.”
Pressing her lips together, Samara shook her head. “The guards would bring us back, and Count Zorik is always watching. If we go out there, the spirits will catch us and kill us!”
I’d forgotten how superstitious she was. “But we have to take a chance,” I pressed. “The darkness is already inside…”
Samara shook her head. “We must pray that it passes and passes quickly. It has already taken four lives. What more could it want?”
“Do you want to stay here and wait while it takes us, one by one?” I demanded.
“We have to give it what it wants, and then it will leave us alone.”
The horror of her words hit me full force. Of course. What had Uriah told me? One more song, and he’d set me free. I could almost hear the faint echo of my dreams.
Sing, Lady Aria. Sing for your life.
If I sacrificed myself, then High Tower would be set free from this madness. Was that what Lucia had done? Had she tried to stop it twenty years ago? I could never be sure, but I knew one thing. . . I had to try.
28
Aria
Samara was right. Fleeing was not an option. Guards were stationed outside my door. With each passing day, my throat healed from the light bruising until I could sing again. The production ended while I healed and this time, Count Zorik gave the performers a week to rest before rehearsing for a new production. The music matched my mood. Dark and foreboding, haunting almost, and each evening when I left my room—escorted by the guards—I wondered what had happened to Uriah. For at long last, the tower was silent.
Opening night drew near on swift wings yet my mind wandered. Why was the tower silent? Would the monsters return? What was happening to Uriah? If I were free, I’d run back there, inexplicably drawn by him. But I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere alone, and during rehearsal I sensed the cold eyes of Count Zorik, watching me with an intensity that sent shivers up my spine. Even worse, the weather in High Tower changed. The mist thickened to a white haze that made it almost impossible to see more than a few feet in front. When I opened my window, it twisted inside, cold and clammy, making me shiver with unease. I wanted to sing through it, call through it, but the bleakness outside matched my soul. Plans to escape filled my mind, and I determined I’d sneak away during a performance or when I was supposed to be in my dressing room. I had to take action instead of waiting for Count Zorik to relent.
When Samara tapped on my door, I sat up with relief, grateful for a familiar face. Behind her came another maid, one whose name I did not know. She set down my meal and excused herself while Samara hung up my dress for the performance.
“I can’t stop thinking about her,” Samara whispered as the door latched behind her. We’d taken to whispering now that guards stood outside the door, unsure how much they would hear.
“Kita?” I sat up in bed but had no motivation to get out or prepare for the production.
With a sigh, Samara plopped on the bed and rubbed her eyes. “It was so surreal, I sent Kita up with your meal. When she returned, she told me you weren’t there and then, later that evening she was just… Gone.”
Suddenly a ringing went through my ears and I sat up straighter. “You sent her to my room?”
Samara nodded. “It was late, I know, but Madame Blu had me sewing costumes. Just the hems, mind you, those are easy. I forgot what time it was and when I noticed, Kita volunteered to run your meal up. We assumed you weren’t there because you grew tired of waiting and went off to the kitchen yourself.”
My breath caught in my throat.
“What is it?” she asked. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!”
I pressed my lips together. “Not a ghost, but, Samara, this was four weeks ago this time? On a Thursday?”
She gave me a strange look. “Yes, why are you so concerned about the timing?”
I leaped out of bed and spun away from her, pressing a hand to my mouth. If Samara was right about the timing, then I had been with Uriah. There wasn’t a way for him to sneak inside and kill Kita, which meant perhaps I’d been wrong about him. My heart thumped wildly as I tried to make sense of it. Lucia’s jumbled note indicated there was someone, unless she was a raving lunatic… But Madame Blu had confirmed her story. I racked my mind, considering the times I’d been with Uriah.
For certain, the first death had taken place during or before the performance, which implicated Uriah, unless another creature of the night roamed the castle, killing at will. Yet the deaths were infrequent. It seemed as though a creature craved blood at a specific time or it was vengeance. The threads of the mystery started to furl together. Was it wishful thinking? Was my desire clouding my judgment yet again? I knew for a fact Uriah possessed abnormal magic, although all he demanded from me was a song. Was it something dark and deadly? Or were the deaths simply a coincidence he had nothing to do with? Lords and ladies came to and from the theater at all times. There were too many of them to narrow down, although some were patrons of the theater who attended every performance. Could one of them secretly be a creature of the night waiting to pounce? I dismissed my idea again, for at least two of the murders had taken place outside of performance time, when the castle was supposed to be quiet.
