Crescent (Book 1)

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The castle is alive much like it had been the night of Ceth's party. It's as if the castle is a living, breathing thing- the kitchen pumping breaths of air smelling like buttered foods and sweet desserts into the grand hall. The library, where dinner will be served, is loud with the clatter of servants finishing with the last of the decorating and the quartet of performers strumming up their instruments.

My blood hums. I only have a few hours until the ambassadors arrive and Ceth comes looking for me. From the hall overlooking the courtyard outside the library, I watch as the stable hands ready everything. The gargoyles keep careful watch from the battlements, and horses are being led toward the stables past the bridge. When the carriages arrive, the stable hands will really have their work cut out for them.

Ceth expects to see me before the ambassadors arrive. He left a note this morning telling me to meet him in the grand hall. And with my visit with Jackaby yesterday, I've already conjured up a plan. I only have a short window to get to the tower. My guards are busy with preparations, and now that the ambassadors will be arriving, it will pose too many questions to have me followed around. So, I take one last look at the door to my right- the same door Jackaby used to get to the towers- and push through it.

Wind blasts my face, and snow steals my breath as its icy hands wind their way down my back. The snow is heavy enough that I can't see the towers, but I know they aren't far. I wrap my cloak tighter around my shoulders as I dart down the stone path to the opposite side.

I'm almost surprised when I find it unlocked. I step inside, warmth floods my senses, and I keep my hood drawn. No one is inside. A thick fog fills the tower's bottom, and before I can choke on it, I find the winding steps that crawl upwards. At the top, a door blocks passage to a room, and I listen, waiting to hear anyone inside. There's only silence. The door's locked.

I peer through the keyhole, the slot just big enough that I can see across the room to the tower's top window. There's a bed to one side. To the other, there's a desk full of fogging glass decanters and glass vials held over small flames. I gasp, jumping backwards when I see someone cross in front of the slot, but they haven't heard me. They continue from one side of the room to the other, carrying a large capped syringe in their hands. I can't see their face, but I can tell the male is young from the smooth hands peeking out from under his cotton riding shirt. I watch in morbid fascination as he crosses toward the bed where someone is lying in the sheets. I recognize the scout's black uniform immediately.

The male uncaps the needle, injecting the substance into the scout's neck. The scout stirs, jaw hanging slack, and then they go still. There's nothing. The male reaches for the scout's wrist, feeling for a pulse. Are they dead?

It's quiet for several minutes. The wind howls outside the tower window, and liquids quietly simmer on the desk inside. Lanterns flicker on the wall behind me, and the male taps his boot impatiently- seemingly waiting for something to happen.

Then, all I hear is a shrill scream.

The scout cries out, the sound so loud, so deafening that I slam into the stairwell. There's no way the male didn't hear me. Their footsteps come trudging toward me, and I know to run. Run, run, run, I take the stairs two at a time, footsteps echoing off the stairs as I wind my way down.

I can still hear the scout's screaming even as I burst through the tower door into the storm. I know better than to look back- to get a good look at whoever I'd seen- and I don't stop until I cross the wall and make it inside the castle. The corridor is too quiet, my breath filling the space too quickly. The portraits hang on the walls like watchful ghosts as I calm my racing heart. If I'd been caught...

I hear a servant approaching before I see them, and it gives me enough time to straighten my cloak and pull the hood down. I pretend to study a particular painting of Ceth's father when the servant comes round the corner, carrying a neatly folded stack of sheets.

Her eyes widen when she sees me, and she bows her head. "Forgive me, m'lady. I didn't know you were here."

"It's no trouble," I tell her, pretending to scrutinize a particular detail before turning to her.

Her mousy brown hair is covered in a white wrap that matches the cotton of her dress. Ann- I think I remember her from the kitchens with Janice. Her eyes dart between me and the door as if maybe she knows I'm not just browsing pictures. "Shouldn't we be getting you dressed, m'lady?"

"Of course. I just lost track of time." I smile, folding my hands in front of me before motioning to the bed sheets in her hands. "Are you dropping those somewhere? I can walk with you."

She shakes her head, eyes widening again. "Oh, no. I couldn't ask you to do that."

"I don't mind." I halve the stack in the middle and carry it alongside her. "Show me the way, Ann."

She gapes, her eyes meeting mine for a split second before dropping. I follow as she strolls toward the rooms on the second floor where the doors are already opened. Leaning inside, I find the room meticulously styled with burgundy curtains and metallic gilded furniture. One of the rooms where the ambassadors will be staying. Ann's heels click across the shining parquet flooring as she arranges our sheets at the end of the velvet-pressed bed. She smooths out the wrinkles with her palms before turning back and closing the door behind her.

"Can I ask you something, m'lady?" We both quietly take the stairs leading to my room. I nod for her to continue as we pause outside the door. "I know it's not my place to ask, but I was just hoping if... wondering if- maybe Lord Shawcross was planning on sending another party out to Cold's Summit."

My brows rise, mirroring my confusion. "What do you mean?"

Her hands become nervous fists at her sides, and she fiddles with the sides of her dress. "Well, it's my brother, m'lady. He's been missing for almost a week now, and I thought that maybe you were sending out another search party."

Is that why Ceth left? And Jackaby too? The poor girl's eyes well, and I realize she's still waiting for me to answer. "Ann, how many other servants have family that's still missing?"

"I know at least three other girls. Two others already got the news that their family didn't make it. The fever took 'em before they even got to say goodbye."

She's counting on me to tell her the things she so desperately wanted to hear. But, I don't know where her brother is. My stomach sinks as I think back to what Jackaby said. The fever... the cots and the blood downstairs, the soldier in the tower. In my gut, I know they're connected.

The bustle, the excitement downstairs grows even louder. The ambassadors could arrive at any time. They'll have a few hours to get settled before dinner where my real performance will finally begin. I still need to get dressed, but I grip Ann's hands gently, smiling at her.

"I will look into it myself. If I find out anything, you'll be the first to know."

Her eyes are watery orbs as she squeezes my hands. "I would be most grateful." She retreats back a step, and straightens herself, wiping the water from her eyes. "Shall I send Moira up to help you into your dress?"

I remember Ceth's note, and the promise of something to do before the ambassadors finally get here, and I shake my head. "Not yet. I'm afraid Lord Shawcross has something for me to do first."