𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫

Chapter 9

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐩𝐞

After being in the dungeon for months, walking through the castle felt like walking on the rim of a volcano. I might as well have been back in the cold, sunless prison cell where I belonged. But this same building was where I used to spend most of my waking hours if I had no missions to take me out of town: here I trained, received orders, and often met with the other three Shavan to pass the time. Caeswen was my home, but this was my life.

Yet, sitting in wait, I felt restless. Every passing set of footsteps was a patrol to fetch me. Every guard was waiting for the ideal moment to reach out and shove me back in my cell. Even my skin felt like a trap. My fingers drummed nervously on the armrest of my seat, my feet tapping along on the floor. Everything felt the a threat–I should just bolt and leave the castle while I still could.

I winced at the dull pain in my neck. The morning's ceremony turned out to be just one of the memorable things from today.

Another was Paxton.

I hadn't entirely settled my feelings for him yet–I supposed that was my reason for being here, waiting for an audience with the king. I had taken his word and found the letter he'd spoken of . . . which hadn't much helped to quench my suspicions. I had a few schemes sculpting in my mind, but I needed the king's approval first.

After the ceremony, I'd immediately confronted Eva about the letter. "What if it's important?" I'd cried. "You know I'm supposed to receive one about the parole. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You had enough on your mind already! There was no reason you should be occupied with whatever politics or threats or other nonsense might have been written there." She had paused, averting her eyes. "And plus, it was blank."

I gaped. "You opened it?"

"I know, I know! Your letters are confidential and secret and all the other words that stop people from nosing around. But I worry about you, Calliope. I was just trying to help."

"Did you toss it?"

Once we fished it out of the wastebasket, I turned it over in my hands. Imira's breath was warm on my shoulder as she stood on her toes to peer at it. She took it from me, flipping it again and echoing Eva's words. "It's blank."

"No, it's not. Get me a candle."

Eva frowned at me while I struck a match and let the hungry fire eat up the wick. Carefully, I brought the paper to the flame, far enough that its rumpled edges didn't catch fire. At first, nothing happened. Then, as if an invisible hand was scrawling loops and lines, brown words blossomed on the page. "Lemon juice," I said, snuffing out the candle. "A kindergartener's favourite trick, but no one ever seems to think of it when they see things like this." Imira looked delighted, like she herself was a kindergartener discovering the he mechanisms behind a magician's show. She huddled close to me again to read the delicate cursive, but I pushed her away.

"Right," she said. "Confidential."

𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚅𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎,

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕. 𝙼𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝙿𝚊𝚡𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗. 𝙰𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐-𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝.