The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and Ash 3)
We climbed the stairs and made our way over to where Kieran and Delano stood by the crates. They and the crew were dressed similar to us, cloaks and caps shielding their faces. I looked over my shoulder to where ramps had been placed on the deck of the ship, connecting it to the pier. With a cap pulled low over his face, Perry spoke with someone dressed in black. They were guards from the Rise. Beyond them, the pier was a mass of controlled chaos. Men hurried from ships to the brick warehouses and wagons. Street vendors hocked food and other goods. My gaze swept up to the deep gray walls of the Rise, constructed of limestone and iron. Guards patrolled the wall, stood on the battlements, and were perched in their nests like birds of prey. I saw no black mantles, but there were…a lot of guards. More than one would expect to see at Oak Ambler on a normal day.
But today was not any other day.
The Blood Crown was within those walls.
Chapter 44
“Come on now, you lazy bastards,” Perry shouted, and I raised an eyebrow as he stalked across the deck, smacking his hands together. “Get a move on.”
“He’s really enjoying this far too much,” Delano muttered under his breath, and I stifled a giggle.
Casteel and I lifted a crate and started moving toward the pier. The wooden ramp wobbled under our feet, causing me to gasp as I glanced down at the churning dirty waters.
“Easy now,” Casteel murmured.
I nodded as Perry led us to a wagon. Kieran and Delano were right behind us. My heart pounded as we passed the guards, but the men weren’t paying us any mind, their attention drawn to the few women who were catcalling at the men still on ships, their faces heavily painted.
Thank the gods for some men’s inability to focus on anything else if a pretty face was nearby.
“What in the hell are you all doing?” a man demanded as he rounded the side of the wagon, a severe frown set in the heavy jowls of his face. “This isn’t—”
“Quiet.” Casteel spun toward the man, and the power, the slickness in that one word stole my breath.
The man went silent as he stared into Casteel’s eyes. His entire body had gone stiff as he was held there, suspended by invisible strings of compulsion. I was fixated myself as it was so rare to see Casteel use compulsion.
“You will not say a word—any word—while these crates are loaded into your wagon. You will not make a single sound,” Casteel said, his voice soft and fluid. “Once the crates are loaded, you will take them to wherever it is you’re going. Understand?”
The man nodded, blinking slowly, and then he just stood there as the other crew surrounded us with their crates. I couldn’t help but stare at the blank expression on the man’s face.
“Go,” Perry whispered under his breath as he leaned in between us. Bottles rattled from the crate Delano and Kieran placed in the wagon. “And may the gods be watching over you.”
“May the gods be watching over you,” Casteel replied, slipping around Perry.
Casteel nudged my shoulder as he brushed past. I turned, glancing briefly at Perry. “Be careful.”
“I will, my Queen.”
Turning, I kept pace with Casteel as we quickly slipped into the cloaked and jacketed mass of workers streaming in and out of the Rise gate. Scanning the crowd, I knew better than to look behind us for Delano and Kieran. They would find us. I focused ahead.
The closer I got, the…worse the smell became. Sweat and oil mixed with the scent of spoiled fish. I knew it would only grow, increasing due to all those forced to live in the small homes below the Rise, nearly stacked on top of each other, where the sun didn’t seem to penetrate. The stomach-churning smell wasn’t the only thing I noticed. The condition of the Rise caught my attention. There were tiny…fissures throughout the massive, thick structure. I’d never seen anything like it and couldn’t quite think of what could have done that kind of damage.
“Look at the Rise,” I said under my breath, and Casteel’s head lifted the slightest bit.
He said nothing as we crossed through the gate with the throng of workers entering the city. He led us toward the narrow streets of the business district, where markets crowded the road covered with the waste that horses and mortals alike had left behind. Awareness pressed against my back, and I knew that Kieran and Delano had found us.
A horse-drawn wagon passed, the driver hunched over and unaware of the small child racing along the cobblestone sidewalk, carrying a stack of papers. His red-cheeked face was stained with soot, and his blond hair was slick and unkempt as he rushed into the street—