Page 1 of Lured By the Dus
1Tanith
Wings beat in the night sky, the sound whirring in my ears as I climbed out of my bedroom window. Jerking my gaze skyward, I narrowed my eyes, letting out a sigh as a tiny black bat flew by. A thin slice of moonlight revealed its pointed wings and red eyes. Was it an omen?
Shaking my head to dislodge my guilt, I wiggled onto the roof and used the stucco siding as a handhold to guide my way to the ground. It wasn’t the first time I’d snuck out of the palace, but tonight, I had a dark purpose. Tonight, I planned to rob a saint’s tomb.
When my feet touched the ground, I took a deep breath and scanned the area. The guards were indoors, likely drinking ale to warm themselves against the cool night and harassing the servant girls sent down to keep them company. Although no sounds of torment carried into the courtyard, I hurried across it, keeping to the shadows.
If they caught me—no, I wouldn’t think about it. The bruise on my stomach had only just healed from the last time I’d displeased my uncle, Lord Faren of Dowler. He’d punched me so hard I couldn’t breathe without pain for two days, leading up to my decision to stop just thinking about escape and to take action. The side gate was ajar, just as I’d left it earlier, and I slipped out, following the path toward the graveyard.
The walk would be faster on horseback, but the noise would alert the night watch, which ensured the citizens of Dowler stayed indoors after curfew. My chief concern wasn’t being caught by the guards, or my room being discovered empty—for after a few unsavory incidents, I’d gotten wise and started to lock it each night. No, my primary worry was what lay in the graveyard and whether the rumors about monsters were true or false.
The half-moon sulked behind a cloud, making the night more eerie. A breeze kicked up, cold like dead fingers, forcing me to pull my cloak tighter around my neck. Even though it was only late summer, the mountain air always held a bite, making me long for the warmth of Solynn. Tonight’s theft would allow me to return to the city where everything had gone wrong. What I’d do once I arrived, I wasn’t sure, but one step at a time. I had to focus on tonight’s plan and unravel the future once I escaped this cursed place.
The graveyard was a plot of land near the outskirts of the city, and I was out of breath by the time I arrived. I slowed, searching for signs of life.
“Tanith?” came a low murmur.
“Carter?” I whispered back, my scalp prickling as I neared the field of death. My accomplices had come, which meant there was no turning back now.
“We’re here,” he confirmed.
I climbed over the low stone wall and pulled back the cowl of my cloak. A lantern sat in the overgrown grass, giving off a small pool of light, enough for me to see the faces of the orphaned brothers who worked in the palace: Carter, a lean youth of about twenty and his seventeen-year-old brother, Kinder. Carter was smitten with me, and it hadn’t been difficult to persuade him to assist me tonight, while Kinder followed along because he was a bit slow and easily intimidated.
I tugged at the clasp of my cloak, chest tight, as we huddled together. If caught, I’d be subjected to a lecture from my aunt, Lady Matzie of Dowler, and some violence from my uncle, but Carter and Kinder, as mere servants, would be severely punished. I’d never forgive myself if I were the reason they were beaten.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Kinder’s voice quavered.
“We’ll be quick,” I reassured him, for I had no desire to linger among the departed souls any longer than necessary. Superstition held it was bad luck to disturb the dead, but considering my uncle’s violence, the blood rituals at the temple, and the scent of rot that wafted up from somewhere beneath the palace, I’d take my chances with the dead. “Carter, can we get into the mausoleum?”
Carter’s voice surged with pride. “I stole the keys from the groundskeeper two nights ago and he didn’t even notice.”
Mouth dry, I turned back to Kinder. “Stand watch. If anyone comes, hoot like an owl and disappear.”
“I will, but hurry. It’s creepy out here,” he fretted.
I nodded in agreement. We could not get caught. If we heard anything odd, we were supposed to run in different directions and disappear as quickly as possible. If anyone was out, they’d assume it was the spirits haunting the graveyard. At least, that was the hope.
“I brought shovels in case we need to dig up anything,” Carter said. “And here, I have extra candles.”
His fingers were rough but steady as they brushed mine. I tucked the candles into my pocket, determined to do this with steely courage. The dead did not need the relics they were buried with. We did.
“Let’s go,” I told him.
We crept through the long grass to the mausoleum, a small building in the heart of the graveyard, carved with glyphs and guarded by statues to honor Saint Dowler, for whom the city was named. He’d founded it hundreds of years ago by cutting a path through the mountains and using the surrounding river to make it prosperous. The citizens treated Saint Dowler like a god and even left offerings for him during the turn of each season to ensure continued blessings and wealth.
Rumor had it that when he died, the people had buried a portion of his wealth with him, which was why the mausoleum was kept under lock and key. But an aura of fear surrounded the graveyard, and I often wondered why the tomb of a saint who was so revered was on the outskirts of the city instead of behind the temple, where my uncle’s family line was buried.
Three steps led up to the door, and Carter pushed his shoulder against it, the sound of stones scrapping against each other loud in the silence. Stale air assaulted my senses and a sudden panic clawed up my throat, making me long for the fresh night air. Pressing a hand to my stomach, I forced myself to step inside. If we succeeded—no,whenwe succeeded—I’d finally be free of my uncle’s violence and the threat of hidden corruption that laced the palace. This would be over soon. I could stave off my panic long enough to finance my return to Solynn.
“Here.” Carter passed me one of the shovels.
A moment later, a torch flared, casting a pale glow around us. Just inside, a set of stairs led into darkness. Goose bumps went up my arms as Carter led the way down, holding up the light. I could feel the cold stone even through my shoes, as if death were seeping through the rock, trying to find me. When we reached the bottom, a sense of foreboding passed over me, making it difficult to forget about the supposed curses that haunted those who disturbed the dead.
“Look,” Carter said. His voice wobbled, making him sound both younger and smaller.
He waved the torch, allowing us to see the sloped walls and the empty space ahead. My throat tightened.
“Wait, this can’t be right.” Where was the elaborate tomb with offerings stacked around it?
