The War of Two Queens (Blood and Ash 4)
The guards scrambled into the fog, dropping their weapons and leaving their horses behind.
“Clever mortals,” Reaver remarked.
“Now, why couldn’t the knights have done that?” I asked.
“Because we don’t threaten the mortals’ food source.” The draken prowled forward, eyeing the guards who had shrunk against the wall as if they were attempting to become one with it. “I’m watching you. All of you. Keep being clever and you’ll survive this night.”
None of them moved as Kieran eyed the horses. “We should stay on foot,” I advised as we entered the road skirting the walled fort known as Eastfall. “Everyone will be heading inside. The horses will draw attention as the mist starts to fade.”
“Good call.” Kieran kept a watchful eye on the walled fort. “Where should we go?”
I scanned the mist-covered road ahead. “If Carsodonia is anything like Oak Ambler, there has to be an entrance to the tunnel system.”
“Agreed,” Kieran said. “Do you know which one is closest?”
“I think the Temple of Nyktos is. We should start there.”
“The Shadow Temple,” Reaver said, looking up.
I glanced at Reaver. “The what?”
“That’s what the Temple was originally known as when this kingdom was called Lasania. The Sun represented the Primal of Life, and the Shadow represented the Primal of Death,” he said.
I had no idea that those Temples were that old. Then again, I couldn’t remember if my parents had ever taken Ian and me to them before we left Carsodonia. I hadn’t been allowed to enter either place of worship when under the Blood Queen’s guardianship.
I’d never been allowed to leave the castle grounds.
“The one you called the Shadow Temple,” I asked, “is it in the area of the Garden District ne—?”
“Sits at the edge of a neighborhood known as the Luxe,” Reaver finished for me.
I shot him a frown. “Yeah.”
Reaver cleared a bit of the blood from his face with a swipe of his forearm. “I think I remember how to get there.”
“How familiar are you with Carsodonia?” I’d lived here for years and a much shorter time ago than Reaver. When he spoke of Lasania and Iliseeum, he’d made it sound as if he hadn’t been in either very long.
“Familiar enough to remember the way,” he replied, and that was all he said, leaving just how familiar he was a mystery. We picked up our pace and steered clear of Eastfall. The dormitories were silent. Those training there had most likely been sent to the wall or beyond to deal with what they believed was a Craven attack.
I tossed the sword aside as we reached the outskirts of the Luxe—a neighborhood I remembered being known for its lavish rooftop gatherings and hidden dens I wasn’t supposed to know about. Reaver led us straight into one of the vine-covered passageways that Ian used to talk about. He’d been allowed to leave Wayfair and explore them when we were younger, so I only ever heard of the trellised tunnels that snaked throughout the entirety of the Garden District, leading to anywhere you wanted to go.
The distant sound of a shrill scream shattered the eerie silence of the city. The kind only one creature could make.
A Craven.
“Gods,” I whispered. “The mist. It must have beckoned the Craven from the Blood Forest. I didn’t…”
I hadn’t thought of that.
“Luck is on our side then,” Kieran said from behind me as we followed Reaver through a tunnel heavy with sweet pea blossoms. “This will keep them occupied.”
“Agreed,” Reaver chimed in.
They were right. But where the Craven were, death awaited. I clamped my jaw shut. I hadn’t wanted that, but death…
She was an old friend, as Casteel had once said.
“Don’t think about it.” Kieran’s hand curved over my shoulder. “We’re doing what we have to.”
It was almost impossible not to think about the consequences. What if the Craven managed to get over the Rise here like they had tried before in Masadonia? The Rise had never failed, but as far as I knew, a Primal mist had never swamped Carsodonia before, either.
Reaver’s steps slowed as we cleared the sweetly scented passageway, and I saw that not even the Primal mist dared to cloak Nyktos’ Temple. It was the only thing visible.
The Temple sat in the foothills of the Cliffs of Sorrow and behind a thick stone wall that encircled the entire structure. The street was empty as we crossed it and passed through the open gate, trekking across a courtyard constructed of shadowstone. I couldn’t suppress a shudder as I looked up at the twisting spires that stretched nearly as high as the cliffs, the slender turrets, and sleek, pitch-black walls. At night, the polished shadowstone seemed to lure the stars from the sky, capturing them in the obsidian stone. The entire Temple glittered as if a hundred candles had been lit and placed throughout.
We climbed the wide steps, crossing between two thick pillars. The doors were open wide, leading to a long, narrow corridor.